The Darkest Truth

I’ve never understood the point of writing if you weren’t going to be real. There’s a certain type of brutal rawness that accompanies honesty, but it isn’t very often that when we read things we’re given that type of honesty.

I quit writing for a long time because I’m scared. For a while I thought I was scared of how other people would judge me, but as I’ve explored that fear I found that it wasn’t condemnation from others that terrified me – it was the truth.

Could I really be honest with myself?

…better yet, did I want to be honest with myself?

I was pushed to the edge of destructive self-judgment and the simple truth – this is who I’ve become.

As Kevin Malone eloquently puts it, I’m a textbook over thinker.

Even now I hesitate to write this, but I know someone out there needs to hear what I have to say and I trust your desire to relate over your judgment. If you can learn from the pain I’ve caused myself, then so be it.

A long time ago I wrote about how what we hate or consume ourselves with we will become. I thought I was wise then, I wasn’t wrong, but I lacked the vision to see that I was doing just that.

I spent so many years obsessing over how not to be, that somewhere along the way I became just like those things I always said I hated.

In one of Netflix’s newest original movies “The Highwaymen”, Kevin Costner plays Texas Ranger Frank Hammer, a law enforcement legend responsible for ending the bloody and notorious adventures of Bonnie and Clyde.

Filled with lessons of morality, in one particular scene Hammer has a conversation with Clyde Barrow’s father. The father knew that there was only one ending to the story, and in a gut-wrenching plea Mr Barrow begs Hammer to hurry up and put an end to the madness. Mr Barrow knows what his son is doing is wrong, but he struggles to shift the blame to Clyde. Mr Barrow tells Hammer that the law has always been after Clyde from a young age, referring to when Clyde stole a chicken. Mr Barrow claimed that Clyde stole it because he was hungry, but Hammer’s response is a life lesson that we should all carry with us.

Like any parent, Mr Barrow wrestles with the disbelief that Clyde was born evil. Hammer never validates that, but tells the the story of the first time he killed a man and how it was one turn in his trail that led him that way.

One turn.

One decision.

Or lack thereof.

One choice.

Hammer’s parting words to Clyde’s father are a haunting message for us all, “you know, your boy may not have been born with a dark soul, but he has one now…”

For Clyde, it was one turn that led him down a horrific path, but it was his choice.

So here I am, wise enough to know what I don’t want to be like, but stupid enough to make the choices that led me to this place.

There are two lessons here, the first one is that taking responsibility for your actions is everything. The second, it’s never too late – not matter how hard it feels.

It was a series of small turns that led me here. But they were all my choice, and now, I’m forced to live with the person I’ve become.

Whether or not you believe in God or not, redemption is an important aspect of our life. One of the most important lessons that I’ve learned as a police officer and a leader of Marines is that sometimes, mercy can go a long way. This includes the internal battles that we fight every day.

No matter where you are or where you’ve been, believe in redemption, but start first with holding yourself accountable. Then, allow yourself a little mercy. Your darkest truth might be a poor reflection of who you are, but that doesn’t mean that you have to allow it to define who you become.

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