Anyone who has know me for awhile,  especially my childhood friends, will tell you of my protective nature.   I have always been drawn to fight for people outnumbered and outgunned.

It started when I was very small,  fighting little boys on the pre-k playground who were being brutish little bullies.  

By the time I was 8 my aspirations hit the big time.   My dream was to be a Marine.   I was devastated when someone told me that women couldn’t fight on the front line.

Next I decided to be rich somehow so I could drive around big cities on a bus,  collecting homeless people and bringing them to apartment complexes I’d paid for, supplying them with clothing,  groceries,  and resources so they would be able to recover from whatever ailed them,  gain employment,  and get back on their feet.

The world hasn’t made me any less protective.   I remember being in a rehab facility a few years ago,  taking on the “cool chicks” who’d been picking on an awesome little lady who felt alone and outnumbered, until I arrived.

I feel like I was born with it.   Circumstance has only made it stronger and looking back through the history of my family this trait may be genetic after all.

I have a great uncle,  Uncle Lloyd,  who made the brave decision to martyr himself on a battleship.   He and a few others locked themselves behind a door to seal the sinking ship so the others up top could survive.  My father himself fought as a Marine during the Vietnam War.   Enlisted as a minor teenager,  sent overseas when he had just turned 18.   Marine Corps,  Hard Core.  Semper Fi.

So many men in my family have been active in the military.  My grandpa fought in WWII,  cousins,  uncles,  heroes.   But,  the women have been spectacular pillars of strength,  as well.

My Grandmother attended a private college during a time when most married women had babies and fed men for a living.   Nothing wrong with homemaking,  I’ve been doing it for almost ten years,  but that example carried through our family’s history,  making education a thing of importance to the young women I’m related to.  The other grandma went in the other direction,  beautiful,  fiery,  smart.   She raised 7 children on a farm,  working from dusk until dawn selflessly to keep her loved ones happy and safe.

Then there’s my Mama.   The Mama eagle.   She worked hard every day.  I never saw that woman give up.  She did the most difficult thing a mother can do.  She turned me away so I could save my own life.   She set boundaries and rules while I was going wild.  I broke them.  There were consequences.  They led me to feel the full gravity of the pain I was causing myself and my loved ones, which is the only reason I found long lasting and absolute recovery at such a young age. 

She died fighting.  A prolonged and painful battle.  Cancer.  But,  she smiled,  she laughed,  she held me,  she held my children,  she won if you ask me.  She didn’t let that disease beat her at all.   It’s what killed her, that’s true, but it didn’t beat her for even a second.

Protection,  strength,  bravery.   Lofty ideals to some.   They aren’t just applicable to mutants in movies.  They are attainable to anyone who makes the right choice despite the consequence coming their way.   Choose.  You are what you want to be.  People like me will help you become it.   Find us on the internet,  in a friendly smile,  a kind gesture. 

Most importantly,  pick yourself up along with all of the others you assist.   Helping others doesnt hurt if you don’t let it.  Choose who you are and be that person and one day you’ll look at your idols and see that you’re becoming them and that you yourself, have become an inspiration to someone else. 

No excuses,  no justifications, nor self preservation, ego or pride will take you as far as integrity does.  Decency doesn’t hurt either.  Love and kindness are always good.  Just be who you want to be. 

It’s hard to be new.  It’s difficult at first,  but you can do it,  I did.  I set myself free.   And,  I have a gut feeling that it’s my duty to help you do the same.

Call me pretentious and ostentatious or grandiose if you’d like,  but I don’t care anymore.   When I was a little girl trauma trapped me in a lonely dark place and I WISH I could’ve gotten on the internet and found words like these.   I’m 32 and the internet was new when I was in middle school.   Encyclopedia’s didn’t give out information like this and loneliness is what was killing me,  slowly.   So,  slowly. I wasn’t brave enough to ask for help to benefit myself back then, though I’d fight for you until it killed me.

I made it to freedom before the darkness took over.  I was given innocent’s to defend and a purpose to fulfill. Not everyone is this lucky. 

So take my words with you,  wrap them around your heart like armor, because you are not alone.  I can’t physically shield everyone I feel called to.  I’ve learned some don’t deserve my protection, as well.  Ive also learned that many do, but can’t have it without drowning me too. So,  if all I can give are my words,  please take them.  They’re free. They’re free of agenda,  cruel intentions,  or any desire for reward.  Just take them.  They’re yours now.  Be safe.  Be free.  Be happy.  You deserve it.