In the Beginning: Early Thoughts on Starting Now I See

It’s 7:30am on a rainy Sunday morning. In many of my past years, I would be in a rush right now. Frantically trying to figure out what to wear and anticipating what the sermon of the day would be, ignoring any facts my body was trying to tell me- “I’m tired. I hate this. Please stop.”

But today, I’m sitting at my desk in my cozy, beautiful office listening to the rain and the birds while my beagle, Josie, sleeps on the chair beside me. It’s a church of my own making, and I am eternally grateful for this. It’s been a busy week full of sickness, big projects, big thoughts, big feelings, and big accomplishments. And I don’t have to worry about going anywhere. I can actually rest today, and it’s a testament to the power of growth that I don’t have any guilt about it.

I live in a house of peace, mutual respect, and love. We might snip at times- the natural outcome of two strong-willed, independent people sharing space- but we don’t yell or fight. I’ve never been made to feel guilty here. Any form of support I lack is of my own making because I’m still too afraid to ask for it. I dreamed of this kind of peace when I was younger. I’m so glad I was able to finally accept it. It’s strange how peace can first feel like boredom when you’re so used to chaos. It’s nice to be deciding what makes me feel truly alive instead of equating danger with excitement and anxiety for ambition or purpose.

I’ve been trying to ease into the power I need to make this podcast a reality. I’ve been through the initial excitement phase, the planning phase, and the narrowing down phase, and now I’m in the space of action and contemplation. I don’t think I expected the contemplation piece to hit this hard. Over the holidays, I saw so many people from my past show up to offer me kind words. It was lovely, and I was surprised by some of the praise I received. I’ve spent a lot of my life living for that praise, and now it’s very possible that they will regret it and change their minds about me. It pains me. I hate to disappoint people. I’ve contorted myself into so many different versions of Amber that I’ve lost track of who thinks what about me. Now, at 34, I’m coming clean and setting the record straight. This will inevitably ruffle some feathers. But, as my therapist likes to remind me, I’m a spicy meatball and spicy meatballs aren’t for everyone. She also likes to remind me that I keep trying to be oatmeal, and it ends up making me unhappy, frustrated and sad. I really don’t want to be those things anymore. So I’m doing what’s calling for me.

I know there will be people who think I’m just being rebellious, mean-spirited, or cruel. There will be those who think I’m just angry, short-sighted, or even working as an agent for the devil. I also know that none of those things are true and that there are so many people who will see what I’m doing differently- many of them are people who need it. I cling to this and the belief that I may not be able to change the world, but I can create a space for hurt people to heal in community. I can create a part of the world that is better, even if it’s very small. I can stand in power knowing this.

I’m not fully healed, so I’m not trying to teach anyone what to do. I’m just creating space for us to learn together in hopes that a little vulnerability might go a long way. I hope that embracing myself as a spicy meatball helps me learn more about myself, what I want in life, and what I can actually do. I also hope that being open helps others do the same.

Finally, I hope that every pastor, institution, and person who used a god to hurt others is exposed. We’ve had enough.