Dented Knight


I thought it was you. A wounded knight guarding my door.

I remember putting berries and leaves into my finest china, not caring that I hadn’t brushed my hair or that my princess dress was wrinkled.

I was high in my tree house, guarded by my brother Johnny. He fought off Godzilla with sticks and barked at my oldest brother to stay away from the castle.

I was a good princess; Dancing, singing, and making “soup” for my hero.

When I was done playing the role and tried to climb down, Johnny yelled at me to stay in the house to stay safe.

An early memory of obeying instead of listening to my desires. To stay safe. A comfort that I’ve been taught to cling to and constantly seek. A numbing of my true nature to fit in.

These beliefs caused a rift between my little body and vibrant soul. A disconnection fueled by the message that there’s something wrong with me.

I remember getting so sick and having terrible pains in my belly. When I saw myself in a mirror, I was shocked at how pale and sad this girl looked.

When I was 5, my spleen ruptured and I had to stay in the hospital quite a bit. The tender stinging of feeling my flesh being stitched together would make me cry. I wasn’t in pain. It was another message that there’s something wrong with me. Couldn’t my parents see how miserable I was? How I hated being coddled and helpless?

Religion constantly pressed into my tender wounds. I loved God. I felt so much joy digging in the dirt, watching worms dance and play. I felt God as I sang and walked through the garden. But the Kingdom Hall was a place I had to escape from. I couldn’t be in the moment or present without getting nauseous or angry.

So I would use that time to travel. I would go deep into daydreams of being an astronaut or a singer on a huge stage. I remember being 4 years old and reading Song of Solomon. I would howl and giggle. How beautiful. He worshiped the Goddess, embraced her beauty, sang about it even. Where was that in real life?

I looked everywhere. The closest I could find was Jean Grey and Scott on my Saturday morning cartoons.

Today I reflect on my life. I’m not shy about my desires: Success, Travel, Love.

They sound vague and general- doesn’t everyone want that?

Except success for me is in the millions. Millions of lives touched, in a million languages on a million platforms with millions of dollars to lift up others.

Travel- Not just to sunny places. Travel to get a solid reading on the world outside of what I’m told it’s supposed to look like. Looking into the face of people that don’t have the freedom to dream as vivid. But they will.

And love. Not a wounded knight fighting my battles for me. (I’ve seen enough Disney movies to know that a royal life is one of choice.) A king. A partner that lifts me to a higher version of myself. Able to hold my emotions, my big dreams and let me fight my own battles.

I hear his voice in my ear as I sleep “Hi Gorgeous. You’re made for this.”