I headed off to college in Corsicana, Texas, which was a welcomed and necessary escape from the scene at dear ole Allen High. At college, no one really seemed to care about the color of my skin, as everyone was just so different. Different colors, creeds, and backgrounds … different Gods, and diverse perspectives. It was there that I realized I was only a tiny piece of this multi-cultured tapestry of life, and it was also there, during my freshman year, that I met my future husband.

Dear GOD, was he good looking! Solidly chiseled, six foot two, 200 pounds, and deep green eyes to get lost in! We met at the local YMCA, and after many months of cat and mouse began dating and continued dating once I graduated and transferred to another college in north Texas.

My little sister had finally caught up with me and began her freshman year at the same college as me. We lived together in our own apartment, an experience I’ll always treasure.

By then, however, I’d developed a full-blown eating disorder, and at one dropped down to a 100lb size zero. My obliterated self-esteem had finally caught up with me and I’d gone almost an entire year without keeping a meal down.

My family tried to help me, but I was much weaker than my “dragon“. No one, including myself, understood what my disease was really about in the first place, which not only didn’t help, but ultimately just perpetuated my self-mutilation. After being hospitalized and intensely counseled, I dropped out of school mid junior year so I could go back home and recover, which I did, or at least I thought I did, the Christmas of 1990.

As for the guy? Sometimes I’m ashamed of how I insinuated myself into every aspect of his life in what could probably be compared to stalking. That January, after a bit of coaxing by my father, he asked me to marry him. My mom, sister, and I spent the next ten months planning our “fairytale” wedding for which no expense was spared.

We were married on October 19, 1991. Things were relatively simple for us back then. He worked a warehouse in Corsicana and planned to becoming a fireman. I became a paralegal in downtown Dallas and loved it. We made the cutest little home and began our life together.

In being honest, I was young and somewhat spoiled at the time, such that looking back, I realize that I was so busy preparing for the wedding that I completely overlooked preparing for being wed. Even so, it seemed as though we loved each other enough and were relatively happy. Things might have been just fine, but what came next became the catalyst for almost two full decades of struggling in the dark with a mental illness that had been manifesting in my fragile psyche since childhood.

STAINED GLASS WINDOW

Just beneath the rafters in a church of stone laid a stained glass window in the attic all alone. A work of art forgotten – a treasure thrown away. Taken from the sunlight, it was just a useless frame. Oh the things in life we take for granted, the things of wonder we could know. I want to be illuminated, full of Heaven’s light, shining through my life. Let the window of my heart reveal your love. I took the stained glass window and held it to the light … years of hidden glory reappeared before my eyes. Every brilliant color glowing like a fire. Full of revelation and created to inspire., Thirsty for your morning sun. Let your love in me unfold, all this beauty to behold. There’s a stained glass window in the soul of man – a pattern of perfection that was made with holy hands. With the light of heaven pouring through each pain, truth in all it’s splendor is revealed and will remain. {Clay Crosse}