Roses In The Shade
I read a quote just this morning that brought me peace; knowing that my personality, though different than most, is valid— and that somewhere out there, there are others like me. The quote goes as follows:
“Finding your people makes you realize there was nothing wrong with you.”
For the past few years I have battled the mind, societal norms, my heart, finances and the opinions of others regarding the course my life decided to take. Though I have a safe place to call home, in the long-term, it is like skating on ice, which just so happens to be thinning and thawing over time.
You were not designed to fit the mold. Each of us has been given extraordinary gifts and talents to which we owe it to ourselves to pursue.
If it helps to grasp this concept, let me introduce myself…
Hello, my name is Amy Lee. I graduated high school in 2019, and afterward, all the way up until now (and I’m sure beyond), have struggled to find my calling and place in this world. So congratulations for you… you are not the only one! Off and on for years following high school graduation, I attended community college for different majors - attempting to find my identity. Nothing worked. In 2020, when the pandemic hit, I retreated back into myself for wholesome activities, like candle-making, homesteading traditions, soap-making and more. I still continued to work part time and cycled through a list of jobs before I settled on the four part-timers that made up who I am today.
In 2022, I began work at a small garden center near my parent’s house (which I lived and still live today - hopefully not for too much longer). It was a whirlwind of magic fluttering over me all at once. I found my happy place and that is where I became acquainted with plants and their characteristics and idiosyncrasies. Soon after that, to supplement work and finances, I began working at a produce store nearby, as well. The healthy environment really did an impressive work on me. I opted out of the bags of chips I so often snacked on and only wanted real food. Pretty soon, the opportunity came to work for a landscape company as a gardener for both private homes and campus gardens. The “plant-based” lifestyle continued. And then came this tiny, little plant boutique. Plopped into my lap— how could I possibly let this opportunity slide?
Looking at my resume, I wouldn’t think that my future would take me to the childcare route. However, steps behind the scenes show more than surface-level vision would see.
In 2022, my boyfriend began having health issues which led to the prognosis that he would not be able to have children. At the event of this heartbreaking news as well as continued physical pain and suffering on his part, we began re-evaluating our lives and our priorities. Our focus became family-minded and our hearts were set on simple living.
And a treasure walked into our lives— his nephew. My heart has been satisfied through the interactions I have been gifted with, in relation to this little fellow. He is the funniest, most entertaining child. His heart is full of love and laughter and he is so intelligent, even at such a young age.
My adult life has been a culmination of heart ache after struggle after small wins after more heart ache. But one thing I know is that I have a heart for God, for children, and for nature.
During the years of private home gardening, there was always a lesson being taught to me. One particular lesson has stuck with me so intensely. At one of the houses, there was a line of rose bushes sectioning off the yard from the driveway. Most bushes were in the sun, but the two closest to the house were stuck in the shade. Oh, the immense difference how each bush grew dependent on the environment. Even within close proximity to healthy relatives, these two bushes stuck in the shade were so different than the ones in the sun. The roses in the sun were bountiful in blossoms, their stems were bendable, the thorns present but not a huge threat — they were happy. But the two in the shade were so hardened. They bore no flowers, their thorns were much larger and sharper, their branches - like iron rods, even the dirt surrounding them was cracked and dry. They were miserable and each year, pruned back because of death.
So many of us have been forced to live in a box. To live in the shade. When instead, we should be in the sun. Your thorns and your scars are not because you are a problem. It’s often about the environment we are contained in. And it often doesn’t matter if we are in good company. If we are not in an appropriate environment to what our souls desire, no amount of fertilizer or pruning or water will ever amount to true health and wellness. Sometimes, the best thing we can do for ourselves is to uproot everything and move into the sun.
If you are anything like me, like my boyfriend, like his sister, like these two rose bushes — it’s okay to take the road less travelled. It is okay to be alone for the amount of time it takes for you to get where you need to go. If you stay in the shade for too long, your bones will grow heavy and by the time it is essential for escape, it will be too late - for you spent too much time and energy trying to survive.
I encourage you. Evaluate and re-evaluate. Your life doesn’t need to be defined in one sitting. You’re job doesn’t need to be within the parameters of what you studied for or what you were raised to be. You were gifted with individuality and it’s okay to uproot, find your space, and grow. Even when your world seems overcrowded with societal norms, finances, the never-ending opinions from others, and your own battles against the mind and heart. It’s okay to not fit in. As cheesy as it sounds, you were made to stand out.
