New Adventures

Exciting things are happening for me. One of which is the fact that I am starting a new blog with a new domain. If you’d like to check it out, here’s the link.

www.kendragonartistries.com

While there will be some reused content, (I’m working full time, running an internet shop, starting a business with a friend, and creating a new blog all at the same time so please cut me some slack) the new blog will go in a different direction. Based on what this blog has evolved into and factoring in what I’ve come to enjoy it life, it will focus on my art and crafting projects, my cats, short stories, and my geeky interests.

I’ve appreciated all the support you wonderful readers have given me. Thank you for making this a great experience, and I wish you happiness and success in all you do.

Maybe I’m the Villain

Have you ever thought about how, in their own mind, everyone views their self as the main character? For example, in my narrative all the events revolve around me. But in a stranger’s narrative, all the events revolve around them and I may not even be in the story. And in the grand scheme of things, neither of us may warrant a mention. It’s all about perspective.

But it’s deeper than that. Not only does everyone consider their self to be the main character, but we consider our self to be the hero. No matter what mistakes we make or what trials may come our way, we will ultimately prevail in doing what is necessary to move the story forward. We are the hero so we can do no wrong. It’s how we justify things. For example, I may have just made a huge mistake. But I learned from it so if we look at the big picture then making the mistake was actually the right decision as it made me a better person.

But not everyone is a hero. The news gives us ample proof of this fact. Which means that while we all think we’re the hero, some of us will be wrong.

I’ve discovered something about myself recently. I have a dark side that I have done a fantastic job of burying throughout the years.

And I wonder, what if I’m the villain?

What if my struggles don’t make me a better person, but a worse one? What if my story arc doesn’t improve or create anything, but instead destroys and corrupts? How would I know?

I’ve had a lot of crappy relationships in my short twenty-two years on this earth. Manipulative, controlling, degrading, abusive, painful, and damaging relationships with friends, family members, and lovers. I’ve been hurt more times than I can count.

And it’s because I’m a sucker. Because I’m trusting. Because I’m forgiving. Because I took the whole “turn the other cheek” thing a little too seriously.

I always took the high road. I was always the bigger person. I always forgave first. And I always paid for it.

Even in my good relationships, I’ve always been used as a punching bag. Need to blow off some steam? Take it out on Kendra. She’ll forgive you. Don’t worry about hurting her feelings, she’ll always put your needs above her own. Good old Kendra is always there for you.

I’ve always been the safe risk. The one everyone tried crap with because they knew they could get away with it.

And I’m tired of it.

So I did what I’ve dreamed of doing since I was a child. I stopped being that person.

In the past few weeks, I’ve withheld forgiveness. Someone asked me to turn the other cheek and I refused. I’ve cut people out of my life. I’ve spoken my mind and hurt feelings with no remorse. I haven’t been kind or forgiving, I’ve been horrible.

But I’ve never felt better. Because after willingly submitting to everyone my entire life, it feels good to be in charge.

And it makes me wonder, is this how villains are created?

Mistakes and New Discoveries

I did a stupid thing the other day.

Remember when I wrote about the weight of censorship? Well, I decided that the weight was too heavy.

So I dropped it.

Hard.

I’m not going to go into great detail, but let’s just say that there are a few beliefs my family holds which are so central to who they are that they cannot be challenged without great distress and retaliation. And these core beliefs branch out to a few other big beliefs which are less integral to who they are, but still can’t be discredited without tremendous offense to my family.

And I don’t agree with one of those branched out beliefs. I hinted at such with a social media post. And my family responded as they usually do.

But instead of letting the issue drop, I pushed it. And when they threatened, I didn’t back down. It turned into an argument and I stood my ground.

I deeply wounded and infuriated some of my family members in the process.

And I should feel terrible about it, but the thing is. . . I don’t.

For the past few years any time I’ve hinted at having an opinion that differs from their own, my family has responded with extreme negativity. They tore me down saying that I was naive. I didn’t have the necessary life experience to form a proper opinion. They tried to guilt me by saying that my views were immoral (according to their definition of certain codes). If I was as righteous and faithful as they were I wouldn’t feel this way. And they tried to devalue me by saying my opinion wasn’t my own. I clearly wasn’t thinking about myself. I was letting the world make up my mind for me. If I thought for myself I would obviously agree with them.

I was always treated like my opinion didn’t matter. That I was stupid just for arriving at a different conclusion than they did. And I was tired of it.

So when my family once again tried to tell me that my ideas weren’t valid, I snapped.

I argued with them.

And I won.

I said what I wanted. I proved my points. And I silenced them. Victory was mine.

But what was the cost?

I hurt people I care about. I mangled relationships that I care about. I drove a wedge in between myself and others that can never be removed. I behaved horribly, and was somewhat in the wrong.

I want to feel terrible about what I did. I want to have a deep desire to beg my family for forgiveness and sweep this all under the rug.

But I can’t. Because when I threw down the weight of censorship I also broke the chains that came with it. And once they were gone I felt more powerful and alive then I’ve felt in ages.

I have the power to win debates.

I have the power to break free from unwanted expectations that have been placed upon myself.

And I have the power to choose.

Maybe my family’s right and my moral compass is broken. Maybe I’m drunk on the paltry power from being stubborn. But if I’m wrong, I don’t care about being right.

I’m powerful. And I love being that more than I’ve ever loved being anything else.