Page 110 of A Lesson In Beginning

Damnit.

“Okay, fine. You win, damn you. So, maybe I might love him. Maybe. Probably not, but maybe. I don’t know. Are you happy?” I shoved the stack of items into the closest box, not even bothering to sort them or pack them neatly.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means that I don’t know yet. I’m unsure. Do I have feelings for him? Of course I do. Have you seen the man? Have you spoken to him? He’s wonderful. But love? Love is something different. I’m not even sure I know what love is anymore.”

“Love is complicated; even more so when you come from a world that lied to us. But why do you question your feelings about him?”

“You’re annoying. Did you know that? All these questions? I’m just trying to pack here.”

“Come on. Take a break, and just talk with me.” She literally whined, pouting like she did when we were children.

“I just don’t understand why.”

“Why what?” I dropped the pile of things into my lap, exasperated with her utter stubbornness and unwillingness to just leave me alone and get things packed.

“Why would he choose me? Out of all the other people in this world, out of all the other women at the club, why me? Why choose the homely nobody who barely knew what sex was until a few months ago?”

“Because you are so much more than that. Sex you can find anywhere, but a genuine connection with someone? That takes work; it takes effort. And you have found a connection with Joel. Don’t cast it aside, don’t shrug it off, just because you can’t see the worth in yourself that we all see. Worth is not defined by our own self-awareness. We lie to ourselves each and every day where that is concerned. Worth is defined by how we are seen by those around us. By the things we contribute to this world. And most importantly, a person’s worth comes from the simple fact that they exist. They are here, in the world. Every human being, no matter who they are or where they came from, has an inherent worth just because they are alive. Ultimately, worth is the culmination of all the things around us. And let me tell you, Adah Price, you have so much more worth than you could ever know. It’s high time you start seeing it in yourself.”

She stood from the bed, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of my head before somewhat precariously exiting the room, leaving me to linger over her thoughts. The door closed with a resounding thud, but I simply sat there, ruminating over her words.

Thoughts jumbled in my brain, and immediately I had to write. Locating my journal was a laborious task, but once found, I settled myself back there on the floor, amidst the junk and boxes and packing tape, and began to write.

As my words filled the page, I realized it wasn’t simple thoughts I was writing, but truths I had yet to fully accept. My hand cramped in just a few brief minutes, struggling to keep up with the thoughts that flowed through me, from brain to hand to pen to page.

Sobs welled up in my chest, silent and shaking, as I wrote line after line, page after page of thoughts. Ruth’s words had pulled at something deep inside of me, something I had buried so deeply, I thought for certain it would never surface. But the more I wrote, the more I realized it wasn’t an inability to surface that was the problem. It was the fact that I had repeatedly and painstakingly pushed it down, burying it time and time again, refusing to acknowledge the truth.

These were not mere words on a page. They were a letter to the woman I once was.

Each and every trial I had faced, every burden I had been forced to bear, was not a failure on my part. It was the product of the life of pain I had been born into. I did not ask for it. I had not deserved it. It had been thrust upon me like boulders, entombing me in a pile of rubble and rubbish. The forced marriage, the strict religion that had held me captive for so long; I had not asked for those things. I had survived those things. The pain of infertility, the feeling of worthlessness and irrelevance, those were not merely obstacles stacked against me. There were people — villains — who kept score cards, tallying my virtues and demerits, playing gods themselves. Oh god, the loss of my precious daughter. I did not deserve that. I had not earned that from my own misdeeds. I had not chosen the life that was given to me.

But I could choose now.

Pain stabbed at my chest, emotion bubbling out of me through every pore as I poured out my heart out on those pages. My heart pounded against my chest so violently, so wracked with emotion, that I feared my ribs would literally break with the pain of it.

Patches of wetness blotted the ink on the page; my tears, staining the letter I had written to my former self. I clutched the journal to my chest. The truths I had written turned to vows in my mind; promises I made to myself to keep, to hold, and protect.

The girl I was raised to be had left Zion, seeking solace and sanctuary in a world completely unknown to her. She had been fed lie upon lie, and those lies had become the truth she had held near and dear to her heart. But that young girl was no longer here. The Adah Price who had been raised in a false faith, sworn to serve a God who did not exist, was long gone. I had left her behind in Zion, even if I had not realized it at the time.

The woman I had become was strong and sure of herself. I had faced adversity and survived it. Not only survived it, but thrived in the aftermath of it. I had endured a trial through fire, and where once there had been a timid and fragile young girl, now stood a fierce and fearless warrior. Looking back, I could see clearly just how far I had come.

That little girl I had once been deserved to be loved, cherished, and protected. My elders had failed me in that; really, they had failed in every way possible or even imaginable. I would comfort my inner child, holding her in great regard, with love and tenderness. I would do so by protecting my son, and showing him what actual love was. A parent’s love was not some conditional thing to be bought, sold, earned, or borrowed. It was priceless; a beautiful thing that was invaluable, irreplaceable, and, most importantly, immeasurable.

Those who raised me were incapable of loving me unconditionally. But their incapacity did not mean I was unworthy. So, since they could not, I vowed to love myself unconditionally. That was the love I would show my son. And I was ready to show that same love to myself; to the young girl from Zion I still carried with me. But I was no longer that girl. I was a woman, strong and fierce and ready to live the life I deserved. I was unstoppable. And I was worthy.

In the end, of all the lessons I had learned, it was the lesson in beginning again that led me to my true self. And I vowed then and there, I would never look back.

EPILOGUE

“I swear Ruth, if you leave that curling iron on too long and singe off my hair, I will kill you flat out dead in your sleep.”

“Oof, and that’s my cue to leave.” Levi chuckled, turning away from the bathroom door.

“Pussy!” Ruth called back at him, cackling.

“Listen, when the Shepherd sisters start making death threats, it’s a sure-fire sign to get the fuck outta there.” He chuckled, walking away and likely situating himself back into the small living room of my new apartment. It was modest, but it was mine. And that was all that mattered.

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