Taking out the trash: People edition
So I'm knee-deep in moving! Yes, the dance studio I own, Legacy Dance Project, is moving locations, and I'm excited, thrilled, and relieved about the new chapter that awaits the studio's students.
I'm also engaged, remember! Haha So, Chris and I have started wrapping our brains around blending families; what does five children in one house look like, and how will we be navigating our families and households to make the transition as seamless and painless as possible.
It just so happens that the church I attend, Goldsboro Worship Center, has a huge yard sale to benefit the children's ministry coming up. So this was the perfect time to pour into the beautiful ministry where I love to serve the Lord, declutter our personal spaces, and begin to consolidate and evaluate what needs to happen in our future home.
I love a yard sale. I don't particularly appreciate getting up before the sun, but I love a bargain. I get such joy from the rummage, the search, the deals, and the love or utility you pass on to someone else. I don't know if you've ever orchestrated a yard sale, but the first step is usually to separate your goods into piles.
The Trash Pile: things that are broken, expired, don't work anymore, or have had so much love (wear and tear) that it's no longer functions properly. It could be an item that holds terrible memories from long ago that you chose to physically throw away.
The Keep Pile: things that are sentimental, practical, items found that you once thought you had lost forever but are grateful that it resurfaced, needed tools and supplies, things that bring you joy.
The Sell Pile: things that still work but maybe you have double or triple of, something that once upon a time served its purpose but is now nonapplicable to your current situation, things your children have outgrown or don't play with anymore, items you purchased but then realized you really didn't need.
As I went through notes written by once-upon-a-time students, office supplies, and unused costumes... a message dropped into my spirit. This is how we treat people. People are discarded, cherished, or used for advantages and added value, not necessarily in an immoral way. I let that settle into my spirit, and then it hurt deep in my stomach and heart. We play roles in life whether we auditioned for them or not. You are someone's hero in one story and the villain in another. I began thinking about how I felt about the times I had been thrown away, disposed of, and scrapped. I'm gonna be completely honest with you guys, and it will be brutal for me.
Here are some reasons I was cut out of another person's life. I'm attempting to see these situations from their point of view. I am forming this pov because of what they have told me or what I infer from their actions. These are my villain moments in their stories:
I was the enemy because I was following my passion and calling to start a dance studio.
I disappointed a friend one too many times by not showing up for her when she wanted/needed me to.
I offended people because open, gentle communication was not an option during a dispute.
I broke a person's trust with my actions, and trust is one of the hardest things to mend.
I didn't give enough praise, recognition, or esteem to those who believed they deserved it.
I laid down a boundary for what is acceptable, which was viewed as me not loving those people any longer.
I was more concerned about my lingering, personal issues than celebrating another's success.
I'm unwilling to engage in superficial relationships where I witness manipulation, blame, and shame as tactical maneuvers.
Y'all, this list is heavy and hard for me to write. There is some truth in it, and there's a lot of the enemy, the devil himself, swirling it all together, enjoying the confusing concoction he made.
I also began thinking about the hurt we carry when we are the ones doing the cutting and pruning. If you are anything like me, even the idea of dismissing someone is almost too much to bear. (Recovering people pleaser extraordinaire) Here are some reasons I've removed people from my life because it was the most healthy move for me:
I was tired of degrading comments, constant competition, feeling like "the help," and the never-ending cycle of proving my worth.
I felt cornered, attacked, and disrespected in front of my peers.
I refused to allow others to dictate aspects of my business.
People were insistent on misunderstanding my intentions, and I will never change their minds about how the storyline is in their heads. Trying to convince people about the state of your heart is futile.
My self-worth was in the garbage because I was being made to feel like a less than woman and generally a human being.
People decided that my feelings were not a priority, nor were they willing to seek forgiveness when they had upset me. They have placed me so low on the caste system that it's easier to exit than to hang around for the next slash to my heartstrings.
Some people want your attention and ear to spread cyclical negativity, not to seek help or resolution, and I've had to realize the difference.
This is what the Holy Spirit was trying to tell me and what I'm challenging us to focus on for a second. We throw people away because, essentially, they are broken. Those people don't work for you anymore. They aren't loving you as they should. They cut you with words, and failed you when you needed them the most. Almost in every situation where I was the guilty villain, I can also look at my weak, blind spots where I was the broken one. Things like this:
I was an extreme people pleaser and carried the guilt of moving on to the next chapter.
I was still focused (or perhaps blinded) by my trauma from my teenage years, my divorce, and/or my mother's sudden death.
My behavior was taken as rude because of my human reaction to another's accusation.
I was lonely, felt abandoned, and worthless, so I searched for empty joy and confirmation from the world.
I operated for a long time in survival mode because of my poverty mindset and barely getting by. That sneaks up A LOT for me!
I felt threatened by unsatisfied clients that would seek retribution, a pandemic, a divorce, and/or unhealthy trends that began circulating around my business.
As a co-dependent person, I realize that I carried much more weight in relationships, mentally and physically, and I wasn't strong enough to successfully continue in the way I was.
So, as I began to understand, when I was at my worst, it was because I was broken. Therefore, the people I needed to prune also operated in such a way because of brokenness, making me believe in the simplicity of people. Maybe they sense the hurt; perhaps they don't. Either way, when you view the villains in your life as broken people instead of intentionally malicious, it gets easier to... let go. You begin to understand that at some point, all of us will operate in a mode that is less than pleasing to God because we are broken people in a broken world. And when it comes to being put back together, a surgery only God can do, some of us require a longer time frame. Being mended back into one piece, a person that will never be like they were before isn't a simple five-step series or a checklist or any PowerPoint plan. There is no Dave Ramsey envelope of healing. It's God's will as to how He does it and His timeline to operate and control. I wish that were different for our benefit, but it only works that way. Letting go of people means you're not severing ties completely. Instead, think of it as you're creating more space, more room, more allowance for a positive change, for both people, you and them. Room for improvement. Room for healing. Room for understanding and revelations. Room for God.
I pray you'll find yourself back in someone's keep pile. That that glorious resurfacing will happen. I pray you take advantage of the room as a gift. I pray that someone will be grateful that you were found.
K Bye
Megan
Doing life, the best I know how…