To Whom It May Concern

These past few days haven’t been pleasant ones.  I wrote a blog post on Monday about seeing some raccoons getting shot and killed.  I got some positive comments on the post on Tuesday.  On Wednesday morning, I was in a waiting room at the hospital when I got out my phone and opened Facebook.  It was a painful moment of reckoning as I read some of the negative comments people had written in response to the post.  I couldn’t answer them at that moment, so I kept scrolling and saw a post about Charles Bukowski, one of my favorite poets.  The quote featured in the post was this:

“Can you remember who you were before the world told you who you should be?”  – Charles Bukowski

I sat in the waiting room and thought about that.  I remember exactly who I was and who I wasn’t.  I wasn’t the first kid picked for teams on the playground—nobody wants a teammate who double-fists inhalers and gets distracted by the shape of clouds.  Sometimes that rejection stung, but mostly I was content to be an observer, watching other kids and trying to figure out why they did what they did.  I thought up stories about those kids and often got so caught up in my mental plotting that I was sent to the principal’s office more than once for not paying attention in class.  I had a deeply sensitive nature and was easily disturbed or elated.  My heart thrilled when I saw a rainbow—in the sky, in a sprinkler on a summer afternoon, and in the soap bubbles that floated over the sink when my mom did the dishes.  I cried when I saw stray cats, and I promised myself that someday when I was a rich and famous writer, I’d rescue all of them and live in a cat castle.  My best friends were my brother and an elderly lady who lived next door to us—a lady who played the ukulele, doled out Andes mints as if they were precious gold nuggets, and sometimes let me look through her collection of “Reader’s Digest” books.  I loved those books, with their matching spines lined up on her bookcase.  I loved all books, so much that I even slept with them, like other kids sleep with a stuffed animal.  And for fun, I went to the library to read encyclopedias.  That’s who I was before the world told me that other people don’t necessarily appreciate differences—that words like “odd,” “quirky,” and “weirdo” aren’t compliments.

After many years of trying to fight who I was and be like everyone else, I fell into a pit of substance abuse.  Part of my recovery process was rediscovering who I was and accepting it.  I discovered that I’m still very much the little girl I was.  I’m still forgetful, distracted by the worlds I create in my head, and hopelessly in love with books, words, and cats—cats, especially, who I admit to sometimes liking more than I like people.  I’m also still so sensitive to beauty that I’m often covered in goosebumps.  And so sensitive to the ugliness in the world that sometimes I feel like my heart is on the outside of my body, being broken again and again.

That sensitivity drives me to write—to try to capture beauty or to purge myself of the things that disturb me.  It’s why I wrote the blog post earlier this week about the raccoons that were killed.  Every time I closed my eyes, I saw them dying again and again.  So I did what I always do when I’m upset—I wrote about it.  It’s an understatement to say that I was unprepared for the intense backlash to the post.  I responded to the comments that were negative; I deleted the ones that were hateful.  As more and more people shared the post, I couldn’t keep up with the negative and hateful comments.  But I’m not sorry I wrote it.  I’m committed to being a voice for anyone who doesn’t have one, be it an animal or a person.  I’m also committed to standing up for what I believe is right.  And I won’t apologize for that.  That said, I do want to apologize for mentioning, even in an indirect way, the people involved in the incident.  I should have realized that in a small town like ours, people would figure out who I was writing about.  It wasn’t my intent to hurt anyone, but I did, and for that, I’m sorry.

When I first read some of the comments about the post, I admit that I was devastated by them.  I was ashamed that I’d hurt people.  Ashamed that my writing had failed at communicating what I wanted to say.  I had a few dark nights of the soul when I wondered if I should stop blogging or writing at all because I was afraid of making more mistakes.  But the truth is, if I’m learning and growing and trying, I will make more mistakes.  And life will go on.

Someone called my blog unconventional yesterday, and it wasn’t said in a complimentary way.  Is my blog unconventional?  Probably.  But I have no desire to be who the world thinks I should be or to write the way the world thinks I should write.  I like the person God created me to be—I liked her as a little girl, and I like her now—however odd, quirky, or unconventional she may be.  And by the way, I now consider those words to be the highest of compliments.  So if you’ve said them to me or about me, I thank you.

“We fall down in the dance, we make
The old ridiculous mistake,
But always there are such as you
Forgiving, helping what we do.
O every day in sleep and labor
Our life and death are with our neighbor.”W. H. Auden

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Comments 16

  1. Sparrow, write what you believe in, If readers don’t like, they can go elsewhere. Be true to your Heart and Soul, I know you will. You are creative,sincere, frok your heart. TexGen❤️

  2. Renee- Keep being you! And keep writing! There is no rule that says everyone has to align to what you believe, or are passionate about. We are ALL unique, odd, quirky, unconventional, crazy… or whatever others label us to be. But those are the very things that make us special!
    I glean so much from your blog – some topics more than others (that comment is not meant in a negative way) due to my own interests and experiences. But, so often, your words have been EXACTLY what I needed to hear on a particular day, during a difficult situation, or in an unsettled season. God IS working through you!
    Opening our hearts and minds to other perspectives or beliefs can help us to grow; but only if we make the choice to do so and not allow fear or prejudice to hinder us. We may even learn something new in the process! Sometimes, it simply allows us the room and opportunity to examine what we believe, and why. It may serve to strengthen our convictions or possibly lead to changes/adjustments to our way of thinking on a particular subject.
    Let your voice be heard. Let it enlighten, encourage, convict or sometimes just be a fun, heartwarming spot in someone’s day.

    1. Lisa–I’ve been reading and rereading your comment, trying to think of what to say in response. You hit on so many things I’ve been doubting myself about. So I guess my response is just to say thank you–for your encouragement and for hearing my heart. And thank you for the last two sentences you wrote. They are now taped right above my desk. Thank you so very much. ❤

  3. Renee, always be you. I love your blog and enjoy what you write. I love your spirit and how you let us into your life and your soul. Thank you❤️

  4. My dear sweet niece❣️ You were always an adorable child and still are adorable and beautiful! I love animals like you do. I understand your heart. Keep writing as you are a blessing to so many people. I love you sweet lady❣️♥️

    1. Oh, Aunt Joyce–you have the biggest heart. Thank you for understanding mine. And for such kind words. I love you, too. ❤

  5. I am sorry for the backlash and hurtful comments on the raccoon blog. You do speak from your heart and that is what I love about your writing! I love the person God created you to be. I loved you back when we were in school at Heritage. You have a wonderful gift and God is using you to bless and help others. Please keep writing, my friend. You make me smile and I thank you for blessing me tonight. This has been a somewhat hard week and I read your blog tonight and it was just what I needed to hear. You are such a blessing to me! Thank you for being YOU, Renee! I love you. ❤️

    1. Thank you, Melanie, for using your gift of encouragement to bless me. I’m sorry you’ve had a rough week; I’ll message you when I’m not on my phone. ❤ I hope you know how very special you are. Love you back.

  6. Wow, I meant to read the raccoon post, but was too busy. I’m sorry for the backlash, and since you said you made a mistake, I won’t read it. That way I will cover for you, at least in my own mind. I sensed that you were a sensitive soul. It is a beautiful thing to be. But, it is a hard thing too. I am too.

    1. Thank you for understanding my heart, Sandra. And you’re right– sensitivity is both beautiful and painful. Thank you for understanding that, too.

  7. I love you the way you are and for who you are😻. I might not always agree, but that’s okay. You are amazing! Love you!!!!

    1. Lora–Thank you so very much. Being loved for who I am is the biggest blessing of my life. I feel the same about you. My love and thanks to you tonight. ❤

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