#FiveMinuteFriday: Hidden

Faith Solitude Strength Writing

I’m joining #FiveMinuteFriday over at Kate Motaung’s place. The word prompt is HIDDEN. Below is five minutes of free flowing writing. The forward slashes indicate where the timer started and ended. Go!

todayi-am-600x600// I’m digging through the pages of scholarly terminology, highlighting phrases that stick to my mind with patterns of new knowledge. I feel like I’m in a classroom again. Cold, anxious, doubtful. Do I belong here?

I remember others asking, “Are you sure you want to go to college? Just find a good man to support you.”

I remember feeling sick and displaced in a classroom of higher education. Maybe I didn’t belong there. 

One semester was enough to send me packing and traveling back home. My then roommate changed rooms because as soon as she took one look at me she assumed I wouldn’t take college seriously. She voiced it loudly in her motion to overturn our room assignments.

I remember thinking, “Is it because I’m poor?”

I used to feel hidden from the world and desperately wanted to make my mark. Loudly. So I was the most talkative girl I knew. I wanted to be heard. And when I wasn’t, it did something to me internally. It wrecked my idea of higher education. Maybe I wasn’t meant to be there.

It took me ten years to complete my Bachelor’s degree. A number of life matters took up space between a four-year degree and a lifelong commitment to school: pregnancies, motherhood, depression, anxiety, laziness, excuses, money.

I don’t think I’ve talked about the roommate situation my first semester of college at Southwest Texas State University. I think it’s something I like to stamp out of my mind. It’s been fresh on my mind for numerous reasons and the muse walked by and plugged it in there. Specifically for this free-write, I assume.//

There is never a time that someone else should define you, but it happens so often.

Differences in class and social status are flippant things until they are shoved right into our faces. I should’ve known then I was defined by the Most High and not by my gray T-shirt, extremely short hair, cut-off jeans, dark skin and wannabe Doc Martens.

Because I let that (and many other lies) define who I was, I missed a lot of great things in my life. I missed understanding I had a voice mightier than the one coming from my mouth.

I had a pen and I had His definition of me.

No weapon formed against me shall prosper. – Isaiah 54:17

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Thanks for joining in the five-minute free write today. Would you like to join? If you are a blogger join the #fmfparty on FB , Twitter, and/or link up toKate Motaung.  Leave a comment on what the word HIDDEN conjures for you.

 

Linked at Kate Motaung’s place: Five Minute Friday

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