Unraveled
telling you about the last 12 months of my life without telling you about the last 12 months of my life
imagine you have a sweater.
not just any sweater, of course - it’s your favorite.
it’s soft against your skin, and it cradles your shoulders in a familiar hug. maybe your grandma knit it. maybe you forget who did it, but it doesn’t really matter because you pull it over your head every day. you wouldn’t be caught dead without it.
there’s a loose stitch in the seam, but you don’t pay it much mind. it’s hardly noticeable; easy to pretend it isn’t there. after all, it’s your favorite sweater, of course you’re not going to stop wearing it.
eventually, you buy a home - your dream home. it has everything you said you wanted: good bones, good character, a good place to build a good life. there is a barbed wire fence around the perimeter but you don’t pay it much mind. it’s hardly noticeable; easy to pretend it isn’t there. after all, it’s your dream home.
life is good, sitting in your home in your sweater.
you spend your time outside, planting gardens and pruning trees, daydreaming under the sun.
sometimes you wander too close to the fence and it snags on that loose stitch.
no matter, you think. you’ll just stay back and be more careful next time.
and the next time. and the next time. and the next…
and then you realize you can’t remember the last time you left the house.
you see, there’s more barbed wire than you thought, and you don’t have the tools to dismantle it.
the loose stitch in your sweater became a hole, and it’s gaping at you in disbelief. it’s getting harder and harder to wear, as it catches on any sharp corner or unsuspecting door knob.
you decide to pull the yarn tight, tie it shut, shut it up,
but the more you pull, the more it unravels
until you’re sitting in your house
with some yarn in your lap
that used to be your favorite sweater.
That’s me, sitting in a pile of yarn, wondering where I go from here. It feels like the more I pull on that thread, the more it unravels other pieces of my life. I started pulling on the parenting thread and it started to unravel all the fears I have surrounding emotions.
I started pulling on the emotional thread and it started unraveling how I view my relationship with God. I started pulling on that thread while simultaneously, desperately ignoring the fact that the person I married was not the person I thought I married and that I was not safe with him.
Now I’m unraveling my thoughts on the church structure, my relationship with my parents, my thoughts on sexuality, my thoughts on body hair, my thoughts on sin/hell/Jesus/salvation/the gospel, my thoughts on who I am, what I want, and what really matters these days.
I think I will be pulling on those threads for awhile. Maybe someday I’ll have enough yarn to decide what to make of it, but for now I’m just trying to get comfortable with the discomfort.
I am so thrilled that you’ve decided to join me on my journey. My hope is that some day, some how, something beautiful will come out of it.
Yours openly,
Camilla Joy
Oh good grief…!! This is breathtakingly honest, inviting, humble , beautiful, vulnerable… Thank you for sharing with us - those who have so much to learn in our own journey and are grateful to learn alongside you.
I loved it. I thought about it. THe sweater once it is gone to a pile, there you are in life, with nothing coving you but you. Exposed to us all. It can be carry. It's why I keep a blanket on hand. So when you need to protect and comfort, [metaphor] you can keep going. In other words, you have support and friends here who will help guide and protect. Won't let you stray to far but let you explore and find yourself. You got this. Never out of the fight.