Rebel

I recently hung out with someone, and afterwards was trying to figure out why we didn't connect as we have in the past. We couldn't find things to talk about for the most part, and we didn't particularly agree on what to do. Our time together wasn't necessarily awful, it was just exhausting.

In going over it with one of my confidants later, I realized that before, we connected over our mutual rebellion against some of the same subjects. For instance, we both disagreed with strict Church or parental rules, and we both got that ridiculous teenager joy of knowing we had gotten away with something.

I also realized that though I feel passionately about many things, and stand up against some things very strongly, I'm no longer a rebel.

I haven't given up, I've overcome.

I don't have to fight to try to get out of a box, because I'm not being shoved in one. I'm still in a box, because I'm a finite human, but I made this box and it's comfortable and it has enough space for me to turn around in. I don't have to fight: there's nothing to push against.

It's interesting that such a large part of my previous identity has faded away.

But, it makes sense. I don't go to a Mennonite church anymore- therefore I follow the rules that I create for myself, not the rules that the church makes me follow. (Nothing against Mennonites,  this is just from my personal experiences/feelings.)

I live in an apartment, and while I still respect my parents standards and wishes, they're not here to tell me what to do.

I used to say that I was doing these things because I believed in them. Wearing the head covering, wearing skirts, speaking and acting with decorum, these things were foisted upon me as a child. I defended them, but I still mostly did them because I had to. Now I am doing them because they are mine; it is my choice to speak, act, dress, live a certain way.

I don't need to rebel anymore.

I hope you don't have to, either.

~Dolly