YOU ARE NOT TOO MESSY

At seventeen, after my last spinal surgery, my seminary teacher invited me to the front of the classroom to share about my hospital experience. 

I don’t know what he expected. Maybe some romanticized version of what happened, but that’s not what I divulged. 

I told them the raw, honest truth. 

How I bruised and bled. How I heard children screaming down the hallway at 3AM. I shared about being poked and prodded with IV’s and a catheter. About my high fevers and non-stop vomiting. I even revealed my scars to the class. 

Bad idea. 

One by one, every single boy left the room. Even our teacher. 

Since it got awkward, I slowly trailed off and just shuffled back to my seat. 

Our teacher strode back into the classroom, the boys trailing behind him, saying, “Well, Amanda, um, thank you for that…”

A knot formed in the pit of my stomach, tears pressing at my eyes.

What I took away from that day was that I was too messy.

Too much to handle.

That I would only disgust boys with my story. 

I don’t know what you’ve been through or how “messy” or complicated your past has been, but please don’t allow the lie that “you are too much” to creep into your mind and destroy any sense of hope in a future partner who will love you through it all. 

Cody has shown me that the greatest kind of love moves toward the hard parts of your life, sits with you in it, and helps lead you out of it with grace and kindness. 

Time and time again, he has assured me, “You are safe and you are loved.”

I wish I could sit beside my seventeen-year-old self that day and say, “Forget those squeamish boys! You are going to marry a GREAT MAN. One who admires the hell out of you for your strength as a result of your past trauma. And your ‘mess’ will only allow you to love others better through theirs.”

You, my friend, are not too much. 

But rather deeply, deeply loved.

Take Care,
Amanda