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stevenatroupe · 1 year
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Does One Truly Find Themselves?
Life is a never ending battle of learning and understanding yourself
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Our whole lives we go about finding ourselves. That's what's stitched in our brains  as young children. “Go out in the world, and find yourself.” What exactly am I finding? and why am I finding someone or something that's already inside me? Better yet how’d it get lost in the first place.
I personally believe one never finds, but discovers. You didn’t find out you liked music, you discovered it. This world is a big and sometimes scary place. We are forever changing, and developing into creative individuals. In a world this big you'll be forever hunting to find you.  
I’m a 26 year old female who has yet to find herself. But I'm okay with that, because on the journey of finding myself  while losing myself, I discovered a part of who I am. I wish the term finding yourself never existed. I spent 16 years of my life trying to find someone who had already existed on the inside. I was losing sight of the people, places and things  around me. Chasing after a dream that I  never even wanted. Because if I just found myself, did everything society wanted out of me, maybe my life would feel somewhat complete. 
Now in no way am I saying finding yourself is a bad thing. I truly believe without the opportunity of  trying to find myself I  Wouldn’t have had the  fighting chance to lose myself.  The term  makes it  feel like you have to be happy 100%  of the time,  and if  not you’re failing. That’s when  self  destruction takes over. It destroys your mind, and leads you to  believe you’re not good enough. When in reality you’re having a bad day because you’ve discovered something that makes you feel uneasy.  And instead of being down on  yourself you  should ask yourself questions. Start to be curious within you. For example -– Right now my heart feels heavy, and my mind is racing. What activity just happened to make me feel this way? How can I  change this situation so next time I know the proper way to react?
While some may think self discovery, and finding yourself is equivalent, It’s truly all about how you interpret it. In today's world people have put a fairy tail stigma on the term “finding yourself”. They make it seem like  it’s all light and rainbows. Posting short clips on Tik Tok, making vlog videos, and even  writing about it in blog posts. They give you the short edited “good” stuff. Rarely ever do people show you how they got  there. You don't wake up one morning and say “I found myself” and be done. It doesn't all of a sudden click.You are constantly moving through life and changing. You’re discovering new things about yourself daily. Your perspective on things hardly ever stays the same. 
Self discovery is about understanding who you are. Doing the things you’ve always wanted to do  without regret nor shame. Meeting people you never thought  you would. Most importantly self discovery leads to vulnerability. Self. discovery is a form of art.
The Philosophy of self discovery: 
“the central inner force common to all human beings and yet unique to each, which is the deep source of growth… [that is] free, healthy development in accordance with the potentials of one’s generic and individual nature.” Horney, 1950, p. 17
According to this view, a person’s true self essentially lies beneath the surface, and our task is to recognize, or understand that which already exists. Once you have, you can then make choices about your life and identity that are more consistent with this self-knowledge (Waterman, 2011). 
In other words — there  is no right or wrong way to discover yourself. If you’re willing to put in the effort of understanding yourself it will come.. Stop seeking. the validation of others, and start seeking it from you.
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stevenatroupe · 1 year
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Acceptance
How it starts
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I now accept. I  accept all things I went through, I accept all things I'm going  through, and most importantly accept the season of life I'm currently in. I know this  journey is long overdue. And God has definitely been revealing that to me. 
While reading “What Moving On Really Looks Like” in the book Single. On Purpose. By: John Kim - Which I highly recommend reading if you're in a relationship, single but looking, single and not looking, or have never been in a relationship at all. The book not only helps you become a better you, but become a better you for the people around you. The book is good. Anyways. The “chapter” is on Acceptance. It describes why acceptance is good for you, and by holding and not accepting the feeling continues to grow. “Like a virus we  may be able to bury it for a while by distracting ourselves but it will eventually come back.” 
For a while I never realized how much I was suppressing my past. Rejecting all things that happened to me physically, mentally, and sadly sexually. Because if I told myself it didn’t happen then it never happened. I can move on with my life. This is not at all true. 
I was born in Gary Indiana, raised in Apple Valley MN, and moved around within the Minnesota  area a lot. Most summers my family and I would take a road trip to Indiana, and stay there for the summer. By road trip I mean my mom would literally drive there in one day non-stop, drop my sisters and I off and turn around and head back to Minnesota. We wouldn’t see her again until she came back to gather us late August. 
I remember  one summer, which was my last summer ever traveling back to my grandparents home. I think this summer was so memorable  to me because it was the most traumatic. Two events happened. The first event was when my  older sister was doing my hair outside, I was sitting in a chair in my grandparents parking lot holding gel in my lap, and she was standing behind me braiding my hair. I no longer wanted her doing it  so I asked if we could be done. She said no and I instantly got up. It’s summertime, I wanted to hang out with my friends, not sit around getting my hair done. I should also mention, My mom had done my younger sister's and I's hair before heading to Indiana and I can remember her exact words. “Don’t let nobody play in  your hair.” Black moms take hair seriously. Me getting up triggered something in my sister. She had always dealt with  anger issues, but I’ve never experienced it due to her being one of two sisters who stayed in Indiana with my grandparents (My  mom was  a single parent to seven.) Her reaction to  me getting up and not allowing her to do my hair was her fighting me physically. Now at  this time I was about  seven or eight. The  only physical hurt I've ever experienced at this moment  was a whoopin by my mom. I had never been in a fight before, so defending myself was out of the question. I allowed it. My grandma came and got her off me, And when she finally let up I threw her jar of gel  on the ground and it shattered. 
The second event that happened to me was something I've never suppressed  and thought about more than I should. I don’t know if I’ve never  fully accepted it, or if it  hurts so much that It’s always been at the center of my brain. Maybe I’ve never truly forgiven, and until I do it will continue  to sit. This one involves lotion, sisters, uncle, and a belt. My uncle was known for giving out grand whoopins. He’d have us lay our hands on the edge of the couch, stick our  butts out, and if we moved  we got more hits added on to the ones we already “earned.” we  got  a whoopin for everything. I was sick  one day, threw up on the floor and got a whoopin… I was sick and a kid . but that's a story for another day. This one I like to think is wild. 
One day my Uncle called my sisters and I to the kitchen in my grandparents house. As he brought us all together  he  asked  a question I will never forget. “Who spilled all the lotion in the bedroom closet in the back, and didn’t clean it up.” Everyone was  silent, because they knew whoever answered was  getting in trouble, and if no one did we were all getting  in trouble.  It was silent for about a minute until I raised  my hand and  said I did it. No, I didn't do it. But  I also didn’t want my younger  sister to get in trouble for  something she didn’t do. After I answered he told me to go and grab the belt, and get into placement. I  did as I was told. When he got to me he  had asked  how many licks I wanted. (licks is what he called hits) Not knowing I could just say one, I said five. But me being me  I moved a lot and got a lot more then five. After he was done giving me my “licks” he said “Now go clean up the lotion.” I again did what I was told. But after realizing there was no lotion on the fool, I went to him and stated what I had seen. He said “Yes I know, you got the whoopin because you lied.” I was pissed. But I think I was more pissed that my grandma, and sisters said nothing after they heard this. And even more pissed that no one asked me if I was okay after essentially lying to them. 
Now I can take these situations and look at them in two ways. One being they both taught me lessons, Especially my uncle. Don’t ever lie for someone, or to someone. Or I can just accept these experiences were not okay, they could have both been handled differently and I Deserved better. They hurt me physically, and long term mentally. If I didn’t want my hair  done, I shouldn’t have had to get it done, and my uncle should have come up with a better, more sustainable way of teaching my siblings and I how not to lie. 
I’ve come to the realization that although I say I have forgiven my sister and Uncle, I have not. I have never really accepted the hurt this caused me, and how much this was actually still hurting me. You don’t think about them every day, but something happens that triggers the memory, and sends you down a spiral. Pressing this has allowed me to accept, now I have to go through the journey or moving through, with these stories, and so much more. 
“As you start to accept what happened, you will naturally start to move on. I'm going to give you another new definition: You are not moving on. You are moving through. Acceptance isn't a corner you turn. It's a journey, and journeys take time. But eventually a journey can lead You back to the village, a changed person, because with every journey there is a transformation.” - John Kim 
This is two of many stories I will share. I'm no longer sitting in silence. It’s time for me to be heard, to heal, and to move through. 
Stevena Troupe 
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stevenatroupe · 1 year
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The Construction Of Faith
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No one ever talks about. how hard healing is. I mean real healing. The kind where you start at the roots and discover the real you. Instead we glorify it. On social media people post glamorous vacation away from the world, making their bed every morning, or going to get manny petty’s (eye roll).
No one talks about the days when you can barely lift you head off your pillow, the anxiety attacks you get on your way to work, the loneliness you feel, because not only are you actually alone, Through the healing you realize the people who you thought were there were only there for themselves. They rarely ever mention the part where you have to unlearn everything you thought you knew, because in reality that wasn’t really you, it was a programmed version of learned behaviors passed down from your teachers, parents, partners, and “friends”.
Let’s not mention how you have to fight to keep your faith, trust, and identity in God. You start to think he was never there, it was all made up. Because how could he see those things happen, and do nothing.. You get angry with him, you fight, and ask all the why questions that may never get answered. You go day in and day out asking for signs, peace, and clarity But still you feel nothing. You get stuck in your head and forget what real and whats not.
Although this has been a hard, lonely, and frustrating pill to swallow. It has also been really rewarding. To see the growth not only in myself, for myself. But to allow my faith to flourish and trust God more than I’ve ever allowed myself too. At the start I screamed and cried, but at the end he indeed was there. I just wasn’t still enough to hear him. (No one talks about that either)
This is where I will be telling my story. No, not to reach people. But to reach me. This.. writing will be my outlet. This journey is nowhere near over, it’s only just begun (Side note I cried last night). Writing is where I will connect to me, someone who I’ve never met before. Is this scary HELL yes! but will it be worth it? I hope so..
Here we start the Construction of Faith.
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