excusing yourself from the table

they say from the ages of sixteen to twenty-two that you will meet a lot of temporary people. i used to hate that idea; i just couldn't hang with the assertion that people i met, invested in, loved, and grew with would suddenly just become fleeting moments in years already littered with growing pains. i held desperately to the people i had and refused to let others into my life through a highly understated fear of sitting at the table of life alone.when i turned sixteen and almost like some coming of age film (circa the thirteenth year), i rapidly began experiencing the rejection of people in my life paired with the oncoming of new people. i realized that i had a choice in who i wanted in my life and who i desperately did not.  but, as most people above the age of sixteen know, sixteen is much too young an age to cope with the power of choice in love and loss.

the pattern i fell into as a teenager of frivolously investing in one person and catering life to keep them was not actually a power of choice. instead, it was a power of fear. this fear was so deeply rooted in me that i poured everything i was into someone else simply so i could have someone on my team and at my table. to summarize, that was an incredibly naive choice of a young girl. luckily, as all heartbreak does in God's plan, this laid the great foundation for my ability to reflect on self-imposed loneliness, the true ability to be alone in one's person, and to excuse myself from the table.

if you haven't realized yet, i like to equate my relationships and interactions with other people to sitting around a table. probably a rustic, true wood table with whirls that have been lovingly sanded and stained to a rich distinction; sturdy legs and a round shape with large, comfortable reading chairs situated around it.  in other words, this table is well-loved and well used for hearty meals, deep discussions, belly laughs, serious pow-wows involving subtle tears and ugly crying met with deep hugs, and an overwhelming amount of acceptance. 

.::.the table of friendship.::. 

this table, throughout my time in college, has sat many people both old and new, had a few people leave the table, and even sat at the table alone at times.

however, whenever people have sat at my table, even if only for a small amount of time, i used to find myself trying to shackle their feet to the floor and their arms to the table top so they couldn't leave. i so desperately hated sitting at the table alone that i'd keep any kind of company regardless of what they brought to my table.

(here's a chicken for your table.)

and then i turned twenty-one. something about twenty-one....the year my table is suddenly filled with a variety of booze, outfits, and new people sitting at my table; new people that brought something to my table more sustaining than food, good drink, or blooms. instead, they fed my soul. and they were hungry for the same things i was.

the introduction of these people to my life, my table, and my journey allowed me to realize the value of the people i allow at my table. simply, not everyone i come across is someone i want to have at my table. not all of these people bring good things to my table. instead they bring the junk food of life: enjoyable at first but eventually toxic overall (oh an addicting). aspects like gossip, negativity, constant sun-syndrome (aka center of the solar system), judgement, manipulation, and pressure have all sat around my table in human forms. sometimes, i've sat at other people's tables and played one of those roles. but that isn't who i want to be or who i want to be with; that isn't what i want to try to love or invest in. ultimately, those people aren't good for my table.

i want to be powerful and ambitious, loving, positive, and a shoulder to people. i want people in my life to help me become this person and to push to be even better than my dreams. but how can i do this when i sit at a table with someone that is toxic? what if, at sometimes, they are the only person i find myself sitting at the table with? i used to think it'd be better to sit at that table and deal with everything i knew was wrong and allow myself to mold to those distasteful attitudes and attributes. but not any more.

i'm not asking to be excused, much to my manners' horror. not, instead, i'm just allowing myself to exit, though, quite politely. over the last six months, i have sat around tables in my life that make me sick to my stomach. i have told myself that i could ride out the hard times if i hunkered down. i have told myself that i am strong enough not to bend to the way of the world. however, i am not.

God and i sometimes have chats across a table. some chats are comforting like a cup of warm coffee, others are surrounded by swallowed sobs and tears. let me say, i talk way to much at this table. in fact, i babble on about the same things to God in our chats; i tell him about my table and my place at others' tables. i pound my fist on the table demanding to know why people are not willing to be different. God sits across from me, nodding knowingly because He does know. 

and over the course of our chats, God as constantly and consistently put something on my heart. and i've made it a mantra in my life lately; i tell everyone i can about this, especially when they are dealing with problems within their relationships of all sorts.

people are a blessing or a lesson; some people are both. know yourself and know what you bring to the table and never be afraid to eat alone. you're not ever alone.  

and then there was ezra.

.:and now for a little space, grace has been shewed from the Lord, our God, to leave us a remnant to escape and to give us a nail in his holy place, that our God may lighten our eyes, and give us a little reviving from our bondage:.

ezra 9:8

i've said it before, but man do things hit me like bricks sometimes. i am not bound to tables of man. i am not trapped in toxic people, places, things, or thoughts. i have a means to escape and i'd rather sit alone for what i truly believe in and what i am truly trying to become than eat at a table of a million people lost in the world because that is truly coming to a table alone.

leaving the table is a hard thing to do, it becomes even harder when you love the person opposite you and have come to a horrible realization that you are not what they want or need and vice versa despite the love between you two. pulling myself out of relationships that are at their cores vial and poisonous with people i want to be there for, people i love at the root of my soul, and people that were once a positive influence in my life is a trial i'm still facing. 

when you love people, you let them go. and they'll come back someday, if it's what God has planned. that i know to be true down into the depths of my soul and existence. and with this, let me encourage yourself to excuse yourself from the table. excuse yourself with love. continue to love the person across the table. and love yourself. 

excuse me.