Yet I Hated You

Yet I Hated You

by Guest Blogger April 30, 2019 1 Comment

By Tyrek Corry

It was cold. It was dark. It was lonely.

I was scared and this was not the first time I found myself scared.

I was hiding in a closet until the screaming stopped. I shielded myself. No one wanted to hear my story. They wanted my gifts, my dreams, my body, and my voice.

I tried so hard to be perfect and shed that sinful imagination created by hellbent preaching and anointing oil.

I tried and I have failed. I have failed and tried.

I have struggled to seek and know a different place. I wanted to reimagine and you stopped me. I wanted to trouble the water and you told me no. You kept telling me no! Why did you never say yes?

I sat in the pew and wrestled with the ways that God could have placed me in such a terrible history. God, you knew. I wanted to be perfect in all of my ways. I did not want to be destroyed. I wanted my dreams to catch wings, to fly.

I was battered and bruised. I was torn and betrayed. I kept hearing messages about love and it felt like pain. Honestly, it was pain.

I sat in the pulpit that Sunday. I had just sat through another argument between them and myself.

I was mad. I denied you. I cursed you.

I did not want to die but I wanted to give up. I was crumbling but they kept wanting more. All these people that were affirming my gift could not see my sadness. I guess I should blame you. Right?

I hated you. I know that is strong language. But I hated you, though.

I felt as though you left me behind. I had to search through the trash for what I believed.

I preached and I preached.

I served and I served.

I tried to hold it all together and each part crumbled to the ground. I wish I could only desire the things I can have. I wish all could be reconciled and drawn together again.

 

 

________

Tyrek Corry is a recent graduate of the Master of Divinity program at Duke Divinity School and the Master of Social Work program at UNC-Chapel Hill. He is from Gaffney, SC but has lived the last four years of his life in Durham, NC. Currently, he is a project manager for the Center for Supportive Schools in Wake Forest, NC.

 

Hey, up next are some Blessings.

 

 

Photo by Samuel Martins on Unsplash




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1 Response

Laura
Laura

May 23, 2019

Tyrek, this is gorgeous. Thank you for writing this, especially this line: “I kept hearing messages about love and it felt like pain.” I am just now starting to reckon with the spiritual trauma of my upbringing, and those words remind me that I am not alone.

Thank you.

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