We Can’t Be the Hero 100% of the Time


It’s true.

My father always scolded me saying half the time I act like a victim but I’m not, and the other half I take charge.

It’s a very general thing to say. Noone. Not a single person on earth. Has complete control to be able to fight for themselves, protect themselves and the ones they care about. We love each other, we hold each other, we break each other. Noone is exempt. Do you think even Christ was a hero 100% of the time? From the scriptures we read that he was sent a companion in the olive garden where he suffered. And at the very end when all was lost, Christ Himself, felt the pain of being abandoned by God.

Even Christ needed a hero. We think of him as invincible, perfect, unconquerable.

At any point in his life, he could have fallen. Just as we do, all the time. He was remarkable, he was gifted with amazing power- and he wasn’t just gifted. All gifts from heaven are predicated on faith and love.

Christ needed a hero.

He also needs us to be a hero when we can. And if we can’t, and if no one seemingly shows up for us, He is always always there.

That moment just before his death is how I have felt for over 2 years since I had my first nightmare of the 9 years of horrific child rape I endured. Whether it be chemical, biological, genetic, or mythological, there is something inside me broken. I know how Christ felt when he called out “My Lord, my God.” and felt God abandon Him. I think on some level, many of us feel that way. Without hope. Trudging through our dreary days too tired and too broken to continue. Too tired to even wonder if life could get better. So focused on our wellworn paths of pain and darkness to raise our heads.

There is something worth living for. Always. People have many names for it. I call it life.

Think about it. You have this one life (unless you are Hindu Namaste) and what will you do with it?

Most of what depresses me, and I think many of us, is the constant striving for perfection. For the promotion. For the next job. For the next boyfriend. For the next baby. For the next paycheck. We think if I have this, if I do this, I will be satisfied.

Many Eastern religions teach mastery of desire; to be content rid yourself of all desire

I think you can have contentment and desire alongside and your entire life is about finding peace in that.

Life is full of ups and downs. Crazy twists and turns. Hardly anything is ever constant or unchanging. In fact in Christian religion we have dictated that the Lord never changes. We change His commandments in the name of revelation and yet we teach that He is unchangeable.

What I am saying is that you can count on life. For all the pain. For all the anguish. For all the joy and pleasures. You can count on the fact that you have life in you and you can enjoy even the breath that comes into your body on a morning or savor the smell of your coffee.

Dolce far niente. The pleasure of doing nothing at all.

We are in such a hurry to follow our checklists that we never take time for true pleasure. We want more. We want it now. We hate waiting. We don’t know when to stop pushing ourselves and we break our bodies and our lives to pieces in search of something and we don’t even know what we want.

Something I tell myself when things get down and I feel like shit is that “You have everything you need.”

If there is a God, He will take care of me. Many religious people say you must be this tall to enter in order for God to take care of you. They are blind. Even the seemingly most insignificant little butterfly has a sky to fly in, a flower to lie in, and a friend to confide in.

I am worth so much more than what is said of me. My deeds my misdeeds cannot destroy God’s love. I can hurt Him, as is the nature of any relationship. But don’t you ever listen to someone who tells you that you are unworthy of God’s love and blessings just because you aren’t “tall enough to enter”.

If you ponder what is around you, if you seek in your heart and mind what your needs and wants are, what your deepest cares are about, I swear you will realize that you had everything you needed your whole life.

What we want is often destructive to us, but even after it destroys seemingly everything, through that we learn lessons that we could never learn otherwise. Things will work out. They always, always do. Do not listen to the voices that say otherwise. It may be hard and painful and some of us are wont to walk the paths of sorrow for many dark years but each life is precious. We are put in the right places at the right times and as I said and it looks different for everyone! The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints teaches that theirs is the only true gospel (I was born and raised in the church but check out lds.org for yourself to fact check me because you deserve to decide for yourself based off all the information available. Don’t take my word for it.) and that no one can reach their true potential by following any other path other than the one set out for members. Baptism. Church attendance. Certain covenants at certain ages. Very specific standards of behavior. Then a mission, marriage, and motherhood. And fatherhood too of course.

But not everyone in life needs to walk that path! Look at Mother Teresa! She had no children but her name is spoken all over the world for her kindness.


You already have everything you need. You have the power inside you. You will be taken care of. And you have your own path to follow and in the words of Grandmother Willow follow it! Make it up as you go, trust me, it works! Life doesn’t have a magic formula or just one right path. There are as many ways to go as there are YOU.

My friend Angel is one of the truest examples of that I have ever seen. Without too many details she was raped for years and has had the most fucked up things happen to her as I have ever heard about. I met other women like that too and they are broken and they feel hopeless and alone and depressed. In essence if anyone deserves a hero, these beautiful, strong, survivors do. They should not have to feel alone.

She has been through homelessness, gone to jail for assaulting the man who raped her (ie kicking him in the balls and scratching his face), lost all her money, spent thousands of dollars in court, she’s had medications that completely destroyed her inside and made her act so crazy that all her relationships broke apart, she can’t go to church anymore because it is so triggering, she spends days where she cannot get out of bed and the people who live in the house with her walk by to make sure she has not died.

But she has found a place to live with a friend. She had a friend who was a mechanic who helped her function through the first days after an assault. She found a place to work. She finally has very basic medical care. And she has brought 3 precious wonderful dogs into her life who help her to get up and give her joy.

You cannot look at a story like that and say that miracles do not happen. Somehow, no matter what you believe, miracles happen.



We’re going to have a tone shift now because I am feeling so hopeless and worn down tonight and I’m not ready for my finals, the fridge broke and grew black mold, I haven’t found housing, my grades aren’t good enough to get a good scholarship, and I feel like shit right now, I keep getting dizzy and nearly blacking out even when I’m not standing up, I’m trying not to think about all the people the rapist who raped me has raped because it’s torturing me inside, I’m trying not to think about the rumors or the panic attacks from my PTSD or how sick and worthless I feel or the teachings of the church that destroy me inside and make me feel so fucked up I would rather kill myself than go back to the blind faith of unconditional belief.

That being said.

I was just in a room full of Samoans- the same Samoans I broke off with when I got back from the hospital, and I started things off by bringing them a mango cheesecake and then they said “Oh you two should leave, we’re having a family meeting.” And I looked over and said

“OH, so we’re not family?”

After that, we were invited to stay.

The sad sad truth about Polynesia is that blood matters. You will never be treated as well as a Samoan by Samoans if you are white. Same for Tongans and most of the others I’ve met. It is rare to meet an exception. My Tongan grandfather is one and my Samoan papa is another. That is why they spoke that way. And that is why I got kicked out of my last house. Her daughter didn’t even come. She lied to me and I had to leave the house during midterms and blah blah blah drama for no reason except prejudice. Don’t close your eyes to hate. Truth is bitter, but it was never meant to be sweet, it was meant to heal and it was meant to be uncomfortable. Noone ever made a difference by being like everybody else.(Quote from the Greatest Showman) Meds taste horrible, trust me.

Samoans are complicated. Especially for someone from the hot desert, the burning sun, and the even more harsh people. I understand things so differently than they do and oftentimes we hurt each other without even thinking about why. I could write pages about that but because I’m tired I will just sum up that a guy I barely know looked across the room at me and said “Hey, what happened with that Samoan guy?” And I asked “What do you mean?” “Before you left, I heard about it.” (of course he did. Samoans at my college are like high school all over again.) “Well he tried to rape me at the Polynesian Cultural Center and I spent 4 months in the hospital.”

“What happened to him?”


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