The first time I met her, I felt like a broken, baby bird had been placed into my lap. I had never, ever met another human being so fragile and broken. She was broken physically, emotionally, spiritually. Kelly (I’ve changed her name) came to my office on a referral from the police department. As she curled up on my couch, like my daughter would have done, I realized that she was going to be a handful. Kelly and I were exactly the same age, but mentally, she was more like a 6-year-old. Her mannerisms, voice, and ability to converse were on par with my youngest daughter at the time. She had been abused as a young child and often times childhood abuse victims are stunted emotionally and intellectually at the age when the abuse started.
As I slowly, so slowly, coaxed out her past to get an idea of how I could help her, I was overwhelmed with how much this person had endured. I won’t go into the details of her abuse, there is too much to mention and I don’t want to shame her. In all actuality, her life had been one constant, endless saga of suffering. You simply cannot imagine what this poor girl went through. Her parents were seriously unhealthy people themselves and they had controlled every aspect of her life. She had never been on a date, never had a first kiss, never had an all night chat fest with girlfriends, never really did one normal thing in her life. She was very uneducated because her father thought that it was wrong for women to be smart, because that made men feel bad. Yes, you heard that right. Makes your blood boil, doesn’t it?
So, after listening to her for a good long while, I had this great idea that I was going to fix this broken bird. Oh yes, Savior Amy to the rescue! We were going to work on self-esteem and self-confidence. I was going to get her out of her parents’ house. I was going to bring to life a strong, independent woman that would release herself from the constraints of abuse and make a name for herself in this world.
Oh…my…gosh. Can somebody please move this heaping pile of pride out of the way? Geez. Yeah… it didn’t work out like that.
As time went on, the more I saw Kelly, the more frustrated with her I became. She simply WAS NOT doing the work to better herself. I mean, I was giving her all the tools, and more, to right her ship and she was sitting on the seashore tossing shells into the water. She wouldn’t do the homework I gave her that was going to give her great insight into her situation. She wouldn’t take the suggestions I gave her on taking care of her body. (She struggled with anorexia). When she would come in for a counseling session she was spacey and mostly wanted to draw instead of engage in deep, thoughtful soul-searching conversations. I just could not understand. Every week I planned out these killer sessions we were going to have to fix her and she JUST WAS NOT coming along for the ride.
I wanted to throw my hands up in the air. I wanted to just tell her, “You know, Kelly, I don’t think this is the place for you.” I couldn’t refer her to a psychologist, because she already had one. I was to help her with her issues of abuse, the PHD was for all the other things that were above my level of expertise. But, then one day, she showed up unexpectedly at my work. I had other things I had to get done and she wasn’t in a crisis, so I told her that we would have to reschedule. She simply asked me, “Can I just sit in your office? I won’t bother you. I brought things to draw with.”
I thought about it, shrugged my shoulders, and said, “Sure, why not?” So, she came and planted herself on my couch and started drawing and I worked on my things. After awhile I looked over at her and for the first time ever I saw her smile. She looked up at me and smiled and went back to coloring. She looked so content and peaceful. From time-to-time she would just talk to me about nothing important. After about an hour, she packed up her stuff and cheerfully headed on to the rest of her day.
I sat in my chair for a long time and tried to process what had just happened. And then I realized where I had been going wrong with Kelly. Kelly didn’t need another person in her life to point out her faults and all the negativity in her life. She didn’t need another big-headed counselor to “fix” her. She didn’t need to rehash all the issues. Kelly just needed someone to love her. She just needed someone to love her where she was and be a safe place to land. Kelly was showing me that day what she needed. She didn’t need my worksheets, my knowledge, my advice–she needed my love. She wanted to be in the presence of someone who just accepted her. When I realized this, my whole outlook on her changed. From then on, when she came to see me, I just let her be. We chatted about simple things. She loved hearing stories of my life. We even got to the point where we joked around with one another. She would always sit on my floor or on the couch and draw me pictures, which I hung up in my office, just as I would with my own children’s artwork. She was a fantastic artist and it was one of the few things that she took pride in.
The military life took me away from my job there in Florida. I knew I would probably never see Kelly again and I struggled with the feeling that I abandoned her. One day on Facebook, she found me and asked if she could send me a package. I was hesitant about this, but reluctantly agreed. A week after I received her package, Kelly took her life. I was incredibly sad, but not surprised. I understand why she did it. I know that she never thought she was going to escape her earthly hell. A part of me knows that she is free now and I have no doubt that she is up in heaven relishing in massive amounts of love.
It is so easy for us to meet someone and immediately want to fix what we deem is wrong with them. We all think we have a better way. I wasn’t listening to Kelly in those first months of knowing her, I was just listening to my pride tell me how great it would be to turn this girl around. It was more about making me feel good about myself, than making Kelly really feel good. Kelly taught me a valuable lesson: Truly loving someone means you love them whether it benefits you or not. It will always benefit you in some way, but we may not see it right away. I needed to learn this lesson and it’s one that I think we have to continually remind ourselves throughout our lives. I know it’s something that I have to constantly work on. We often say through our actions or words, “Well, I’ll love you if it’s easy or you make yourself lovable. Until that time, I’ll withhold my love.” Thing is, we wouldn’t want anyone to say that to us. If fact, we all desire to find someone who loves us: faults, failings, and all.
So, remember how I said when I first met Kelly she was like a broken, baby bird? Well, in the package she sent me, there was a drawing of a beautiful adult bird, full of color and life. I never told her that I thought of her like that and when I saw the drawing my soul was touched. God has a way, doesn’t He? It was like a message to me saying, “I’ve got her now and everything is good.” Now, when I think of her, I think of her as that bird she drew for me–beautiful, bright, soaring, and oh so loved.
