A Confession Testimony

I look at my Tumblr, and it’s sad to think how seldom I use it to share my faith.  I have 275 followers, so I certainly would have an audience, but I guess the truth is that I’m afraid that if I “Catholicize” my blog too much, I’ll lose followers.  That’s something I need to work on.

Anyway, I have found a few posts that I feel are worth sharing here.  This first one is about confession, one I wrote last year.  I used to seriously struggle with chastity, but I’ve never, ever told anyone about that, except for the priest and one friend who, at the time, was recovering from the same thing.  I guess it’s really hard for Catholic girls in particular to talk about those problems.  There’s this idea that only guys look at porn, that only guys have lustful thoughts, that only guys masturbate.  It’s not true.

I went to an all-girls Catholic high school after three years at a public middle school.  I had worn a purity ring since 7th grade, and I was proud of it.  In public school, people asked me about the little silver ring I always wore, engraved with “True love waits” and two tiny hearts.  I told them it meant that I was saving sex for marriage.  That’s what I thought it meant.  That was the extent of my knowledge of chastity, and at the time, simply saving sex for marriage seemed like a huge thing to me.  I didn’t care about modesty in dress, speech or behavior.  Freshman year was a huge change for me and my perception of what it means to be pure.

Anyway, that’s like the prologue to my freshman year conversion of heart, but I can talk about that another time.  This is the blog post I wanted to share:

So, I haven’t said anything about it, but I’d been carrying around this giant burden for a while now.  I hadn’t gone to Confession in months because I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t be able to make a complete confession, and I decided that it was better to hold off on confession altogether rather than go and not say everything.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve witnessed firsthand the miracles, the graces, the joy that comes with Reconciliation.  Just after my 15th birthday, I made the hardest confession of my life, something that had been eating at me constantly for months.  I was really struggling, and I felt I couldn’t tell anyone about it.  I tried to reason with myself that the sin wasn’t that bad, that God would forgive me even if I didn’t try to do better, but I knew I was wrong.  I think that’s the hardest thing ever, accepting that you’re wrong, that Jesus is right, that no matter how you try to justify what you’re doing, you just can’t.  The choice is really, really hard: a) keep fighting an internal battle you’ll never win, or b) put down your damn pride, your need for self-gratification, and ask God for help.

That’s where Reconciliation comes in.  For months, I put it off, I pulled a St. Augustine: “Grant me chastity and continence, but not yet.”  Eventually, though, I just had to do it.  I went to Reconciliation, I was shaking and sweating, I confessed to God, through the priest, what I’d done, and I really, really begged Him for help.  I needed help.  I didn’t know what to do, how to stop, I was terrified of falling back into it.  That’s just it, though.  The difficulty, the total humility that comes with making a real, soul-emptying confession.  It’s powerful.  I went home that day, and I think I just cried.  For just over two years now, I’ve been entirely free of the burden I was carrying.  God’s helped to fight the temptations I thought would never end, and I feel free.

You guys, I ramble like crazy, but please, please, please, please understand the importance of Reconciliation.  If you’re struggling with your prayer life, with temptation, internal war, if you feel completely lost and don’t know what to do, go to Confession.

God bless! ❤

Katy

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Vanity

I think I’m onto something.  You know that feeling you get when something you’ve heard countless times finally clicks?  That might be what this is.  Dear Jesus, please let it be that.  The realization is something so simple, something I’ve had to teach myself time and again because I always seem to forget: IT’S NOT ALL ABOUT ME.

I registered on WordPress about an hour ago believing that God was telling me to do it.  I had to pick a username, something that’s just second-nature to me.  I have accounts registered on more sites than I can count, and there are about three possible usernames I might choose.  They all have my name, like “katybliss”, “KaleidoKaty”, etc..  Well, maybe it was just the desire for anonymity (I don’t think that’s the case), but today I felt compelled to pick something less about me and more about Jesus, about my faith.  I decided on “thelightiswhite” (see last post).  I’m really glad.  Also, I have to choose a Gravatar, or whatever you call it.  I could just use the pretty selfie I use on every site, but no, I think that when the Gravatar picker thing actually works for me, I’m going to follow suit and choose a photo of my dear patron saint, Maria Goretti.  Or something like that.  

Yeah, these are little things, just a username and a profile photo, but for me, that’s a big deal.  What I’m thinking about right now, as I type these words, is how much stock I put into myself, how damn much I care what everyone else thinks about me.  That’s the problem with my Facebook, my Tumblr, my Wanelo.  My online profiles are “Katy domain,” places where it’s all about me, what I think, what I like.  I do my best to reblog Catholic stuff when I can, but it’s always outweighed by the bobdylanopinionsclotheshumorartmovieshorrorpsychologymusicfandom content blob that seems to take up most of my self-identity, online and in real life.  Oh, and when I do post stuff about prayer, chastity, saints, Catholicism and the like, it’s more to remind my online audience, “See, guys, I’m a Catholic.”  It’s pride more than anything.

I’m really insecure and overwhelmed, you guys.  I’m dealing with severe anxiety disorder, the recent death of my grandma, the aftermath of my parents’ divorce and the huge strain it’s had on my relationship with both parents, this incredible burden of guilt and inadequacy…and most recently, a secret eating disorder.  I’m not listing these issues to gain sympathy.  I’m listing them because I’ve been neglecting them for so long, and it’s occurring to me just now that instead of going to Jesus for help, I’ve shoved them inward and masked them with narcissism.

Lord, I’m done with being two different people.  I’m done with pushing aside my problems and silencing them with self-destruction.  I’m ready to instead lay them at Your feet.  I know that You told me to create this blog for a reason.  When I feel tempted to make myself throw up, when I want to hurt myself, please, Jesus, give me the strength to post it here instead, to pray about it and trust that You, my Savior, will carry me in my weakness.  Amen.