I can do anything a man can do.
I don’t need someone to open my door for me or carry my stuff,
I am perfectly capable on my own.
I don’t need someone to speak up for me or defend me when I am weak,
I have a voice of my own.
I don’t need someone to provide for me and I don’t need someone to rely on,
I can sustain myself… all on my own.
I am perfectly capable on my own.
I have a voice of my own.
I can sustain myself… all on my own.
Single and alone.
Entirely on my own.
Solely by myself.
No need for anyone else.
I can do anything a man can do.
I don’t need men.
I don’t need a man.
I don’t need a father.
I don’t need a savior.
I am a victim of abuse.
I have been rejected by men.
I can live without a man.
Men bring hurt.
So I will build walls,
So I will guard what has been wounded,
So I will protect myself because men cannot.
I will repair what has been broken inside of me.
I will provide for myself what has been lost.
I will guide myself back to the way I once was.
I can do anything a man can do.
But can I… could I?
I thought I could.
I really thought I could.
I thought I could be my own savior, that I could be my own protector, that I could be my own provider, that I could be the guide to my own path.
Why did I think these things?
The Bible had told me to guard my heart vigilantly (Proverbs 4:23) and if men were the ones who had broken it, then I sure as hell was not going to let them back into it. So, I shut out my brother, I shut out my father and without even realizing it I shut out my savior.
The past four years I have been living in these mindsets and honestly not thinking all of them were wrong. The Bible, God’s spoken word to me, says to guard my heart and I gathered because men were the ones who had hurt it, shutting all of them out would be something God would approve of.
And so, shutting them out is what I have done.
I shut my brother out.
All he would try and do was love on me. Sure, we may not have the same view points on everything and yes, he could be a bit stubborn but we had always had a close relationship, being only eighteen months apart. But I had to protect myself and so I no longer let him be my brother. He would try to give me a nougie or tickle me and I would tell him to cut it off. He would try to give me advice or wisdom and I would act as though I already knew. He would try and protect me in small but noticeable ways and I would blow it off. In the spirit of what I thought was strength and wisdom, I rejected my brother.
To my brother, I am sorry.
I shut my father out.
I had given him one chance, one chance to break through my walls and save his little girl. In hopes that he would hold me, in hopes that he would seek justice for me, in hopes that he would be the savior I needed.
I unlocked the caverns of my heart to him about three years ago, thinking he would be different from the others. I cried to him and my mom about losing my virginity and all the shameful things that had followed, hoping that he would save me from my shame. Instead, I was met with the caring words of my mother and the silence of my father.
Through the silence rang ear-splitting rejection. He was ashamed of me. He couldn’t love me after what I had just laid before him. And so the caverns of my heart that were boldly opened were then sealed shut as to never see the light again.
But I was so selfish to think this and so wrong to shut him out. He did his best and failed me, but only because I had set an expectation for him to be my savior, someone he was not capable of being. In a fleeting moment he was unable to meet my expectation, just like any other man who had let me down.
My father is not just like any other man. My father had provided for me relentlessly. He had spent many nights working into the early hours of the morning because he wanted to provide for me, because he loved me. He didn’t only meet the early morning hours for work but also for prayer. He woke up to pray and I would oftentimes see him kneeling at our living room couch, talking to the Heavenly Father. He desired to spiritually lead our family, because he loved me.
He loved me so well and in so many ways. He was a father any little girl would be blessed beyond belief to have. He would dance around the living room with me, wearing blankets like capes to act as though we were flying while listening to “Fly like an Eagle” by Steve Miller Band. He would take my socks off after I got into bed and wear them on his hands, pretending to eat my feet. He would sit in the mornings and eat our favorite cereal with me while I searched for the blueberries swimming around in my milk. He filled my life with love and laughter.
So when his little girl came before him and confessed what she had done, his heart broke. His heart broke for me and for the little girl that had been hurt. My father is a thinker and a processor, it takes him time to make decisions because he is an analyzer, because he is someone who cares. And in a single moment with an impossible expectation, I determined whether or not I would shut out my father who had been by my side during the entirety of my life. He had loved me so well yet in the spirit of defense and ignorance, I rejected my father.
To my father, I am sorry.
I shut my Savior out.
Subconsciously, as I shut men out of my life and as I took on the mindset of not needing them, I positioned my heart to rely solely on self. I would still read my bible, still talk to God and still continue to be heavily involved in church but I wanted to prove that I did not need a man to get back up. I didn’t need a savior if I could be my own.
I was like the prodigal son, knowing I needed to come back home but convincing myself that I could find home on my own. I could find my way back without any help. My Savior, my Abba Father, my Papa, He had been calling me back home. He had been calling me into rest. He had been calling me into healing. He had been and has been calling me back home. To come back home and find rest, to lay down the burdens that I carry and to let Him heal me, to let Him help me and to let Him hold me.
But my walls were sealed tight, my caverns had been closed. And so to prevent myself from being hurt I would not let myself be helped, I would not let myself be healed and I certainly would not let myself be held. I would carry my own cross.
The past three months I have tried. I have tried to lift up my cross, to carry my shame, to redeem my own name. As the prodigal I have wanted to return home… I have, I truly have wanted to just collapse into the arms of my Heavenly Father.
But I would not accept brokenness.
I would not accept shame.
I would not accept forgiveness.
I rejected the gift of the cross in attempt to help, heal and hold myself.
And so the past four years I have been strong, I have lived without the need for men and I have continually rejected their help in attempt to prove something. Out of the deep bitterness in my heart I didn’t think I needed men to heal me or hold me in my brokenness… And my life would be the proof.
Men have hurt me and so I put up walls.
Men have hurt me and so I didn’t need them.
Men have hurt me and so I stopped listening to them.
Men have hurt me and so I will live without them.
The Bible told me to guard my heart and so I closed it off.
“Then the Lord God said, ‘It is not good for man to be alone.'” -Genesis 2:18
“Wives submit to your own husbands, as to the Lord. For the husband is the head of the wife even as Christ is the head of the church, his body, and is himself its Savior. Now as the church submits to Christ, so also wives should submit in everything to their husbands. Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of the word, so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish.” -Ephesians 5:22-27
I was never created to walk alone but in being alone I thought I was being strong and I thought I was protecting myself from rejection of men. But in seeking self protection, in seeking self provision, in seeking for salvation, I became my own savior and I did the very thing that I feared they would do to me…. I rejected them.
I no longer allowed men to be men to me.
I no longer allowed myself to be vulnerable with men.
I no longer allowed myself to be someone who needed the love of a man.
I no longer allowed myself to be seen as someone who could be submissive…
Because I can do anything a man can do…
But I couldn’t.
But I can’t.
But I won’t.
I am giving men back their rights.
I have realized that I am not made to be alone.
I can be a strong woman and I believe I am a strong woman…
But…
I do need men.
I do need a man.
I do need my father.
And I desperately need my savior.
I cannot do this on my own.
I need a defender when I feel alone.
So I will look to the cross.
For it was for me that my Savior’s life was lost.
To my Savior, I am so unworthy to receive such a gift but I am so thankful that you never gave up on me. You were always there and you kept trying even after I rejected you. You helped me when I was in need, you healed me when I finally let myself break, and you held me as I crumbled into the broken woman that I am.
I am a woman, made to do wonderful and beautiful things…
Things I could never do without a man.
