Why is this the hard one to write?
Why is this one freezing up my fingers and slicking my skin with ice cold sweat?
But guys, I have a confession: I’m a Christian.
This is kind of exploding every single brain cell in my skull right now because sometimes when I even say it out loud, I think, No you’re not. You’re a cat glitterer, you crazy woman. You’re a car keyer and avoider of all office situations. You’re the person who lies on the floor in Target and puts nacho cheese in her bra.
You’re Ericka, gosh darn it.
But see, that’s the thing.
I’m still Ericka. I’m still Ericka “What Did Her Mother Put in Her Bottle?” Clay. I still love cats and glitter to the point that I’m not allowed in the state of Vermont anymore. (Spluh, like I need their stupid cheddar…sniff.)
But even more than that, I’ve taken to re-sculpturing my life so that it can support a more loving and open heart. I’m taking steps that have left me less lonely, less dark and more willing to smile and ask you your name than write you off as something you may not even be. Because fear is easy. Fear and misunderstanding is the name of the game in this world.
But I’m learning it doesn’t have to be. And man, does that feel good.
So really, this whole Christianity thing isn’t taking me away from Ericka. If anything, it’s made more Ericka-like, so much so my face won’t stop sticking this way. It’s okay. I have amazing teeth.
And no worries, you guys. I love you for you. There will be no requests to follow me down this journey because everyone has the exact road they need right beneath their feet.
All I ask is that you accept me for me. That’s it. (And to smuggle me some cheese from Vermont.)
Because “me” I fully am now, and I can’t wait to unleash all that I’m on this amazing world.
Cats, I’ll give you a five minute head start.