We Define Labels...They Do Not Define Us

                YouTube is the greatest invention ever gifted to man. I, like so many, was looking at a funny video on this glorious site. As I was looking through my favorite Alx James’, hilarious YouTube extraordinaire, videos I ran across an old youtuber. He’s not old years, but he is someone I have watched since I was a confused junior high student. His name is Shane Dawson. He is also a comedian by trade.

This video caught my eye though because it was titled “I Am Bisexual.” It was not something I expected from him since all his videos were comedy based. I wondered if it was supposed to be funny, which would have aggravated me, but I decided to check it out anyway. It was a coming out video for him. He was doing something similar to what I do here. He was using it as an outlet to express his feelings, so that they were no longer inside of him. More on that in a minuet.

 In his video he mentioned being depressed. This is something I understand. There are so many more levels to depression than just being sad. A lot of the time is feeling anxious, and disliking an aspect of your personality or life. You have all of these feelings of self-hatred and self-doubt that you don’t know what to do with. They build up until you don’t know if you will survive the sadness or the fear. I just really want you to understand why this blog is important to me, and why Shane’s videos are important to him.

Now, back on topic. In the video he further describes  why he isn’t either 100% gay or 100% straight. In essence he said that we are not defined by labels. He is so right. He is SO RIGHT it hurts, and he is not the first person to say it. My best friend, who is also in the middle of the spectrum of sexuality, spoke very similar words to me over the summer. Words don’t give us meaning, but we do give them meaning. We are the ones that assign weight to labels. WE give them meaning. He chose to not let these words decide his fate. All he wanted to do was share this part of himself with the world without fear of rejection. I understand that more and more people are more accepting toward those who are not heterosexual. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t still people out there that are hurtful with labels, and they are not always understanding to diversity. He was brave to trust us with this part of his life.

The lesson I desperately hope you take away from this: we define labels. This can go two ways. Either I want you not to use labels to define other people, or I want you not to use labels to define yourself. I suffer from depression, but I am not defined by it. Shane happens to be bisexual, but he isn’t only that. He really spoke to me by saying that we aren’t what other people see in us, or even what we see in ourselves. 

Price to be Paid

                Music is one of the greatest things on the planet. It’s something that can connect people across the world. I listen to a wide spectrum of different genres. If you were to take a look at my iPod you would see anything from country to heavy metal to show tunes. Music is like air to me.  I need it to breathe. One of my favorite bands, Five Finger Death Punch, recently released an album called Got Your Six. I have been listening to it obsessively. One of the songs, Hell to Pay, really stuck out to me. At one point in the song Ivan sings, “…the hell I had to pay, everything comes at a price.”  He really speaks to my soul here.

                There are obvious things you could think of that come at a price. You go to the store, and you buy milk. To purchase the milk you had to pay the price of $1.99 or whatever it was you paid. I’m thinking of the more abstract connotations this lyrics provides. I am a devout Christian, and I do believe in the existence of a soul. I believe every human has one. The soul is a beautiful thing. It provides life to the person who it resides in. The other part to this is that there are some actions that can cost a person a part of their soul. I’m not just talking murder, rape, or any of the other God awful crimes humans commit. There are smaller things that will eventually cost you a part of your soul. I’ve seen it firsthand.  

When I left my home town I moved with my aunt. She was leaving and offered to take me with her as long as I helped her keep up pretenses. She had been lying to her boyfriend about where she lived previously, and she wanted me to help her keep up all these lies. I agreed because I had wanted nothing more than to leave Holbrook. Before I knew it the lies had spiraled out of control. I also was becoming more like my aunt. Not something to be proud of. She had convinced me that I was nothing more than what she gave me. Without her I would still be stuck in rural Arizona. She told me I was unattractive and, “that no man would ever marry me if I dressed like that (my usual jeans and band t-shirt look).” The price that I had to pay for so-called freedom was being abused by someone else. Not a smart move I’ll admit. I gave a part of my soul to follow this person. I lied to people I desperately cared about. By the end of it I realized that I didn’t like the person I was becoming. I didn’t like having a part of myself stripped away.

                The lesson here is to really consider what the price is for something. For all you smart alecks out there I am not talking about the grossly overpriced dairy products of your local store.  The price you need to consider when you take a person into your heart. If they are good for you then by all means let them in. However, I know some of you have a person in your life that does more harm than good. They make you feel insecure. They tell you lies or want you to lie for them. The price for having them there may cost you part of who you are. Consider that before it costs something you can’t get back. 

Egypt

I haven’t written in this blog since I was a senior in high school. I don’t know what possessed me to write in it again. The only explanation that I can give is that I am currently at a cross roads. My life has taken quite the turn since I was a senior. For instance in the last year alone I have been homeless twice. I know that very few people actually care what I have to say, and I’m alright with that. I just need to have somewhere to air my thoughts, or I may possibly lose my mind.

                The title of this post may be a little confusing. “Why Egypt? Is that where she was homeless?” No, children of the internet, it was not. About a month ago I was kicked out of the house I was living in. I was living in Mesa, Arizona. Once I realized I had no place to go that kept me in the city I knew that I had to return to my home town.  This thought made me nauseous. All night, while I waited for my parents to come get me, I cried. I did the only thing that made sense. I had to get spiritual healing. I called my best friend Jasmine. She reminded me of the story of Moses.

                The story of Moses tells us that a young man was adopted into the royal family. He was a prince. That is until he realized he was actually a Hebrew slave. He ran from Egypt trying to find solace in the desert. Eventually, he found a community that accepted him. He worked for years to work past the issues of his past, and he became a wonderful leader. He thought he was complete. However, God had other plans, as He usually does. He sent Moses back to Egypt…back to his adversity.

                I related to this story more than I thought I would. Jasmine reminded me that we all have pasts and hardships. She also reminded me that because of those difficulties we had grown. She told me to think of myself as She-Moses. Holbrook was my Egypt. I had fought so hard to leave this town. Then just when I thought my adult life was becoming manageable God was like, “No, child. You have much to learn. Back to Egypt with ya.” At first I was angry. I didn’t want to go back. Of course there was a lesson to be learned from it.

                My family desperately needed my help, so coming back had a purpose. I was mean to pick up the slack. The lesson for the rest of you interweb adventurers is perseverance.  There are thousands out there that have suffered some sort of adversity. You get past it, or you suppress it. Whichever. I don’t judge.  But the point is that there was some issue that needed getting past. Yet at some point in your life this issue is gonna resurface sometimes with a vengeance. You need to see past the pain or blind anger and remember that you’ve faced this before in some form.  Work through it. Then when you look back at the epic pile of suck you’ll realize that it wasn’t all bad. There was a purpose. Keep on keeping on.