A Girl in the Mountains

Living secluded is a tricky thing. In Idaho, it can be more common than not.

I live where there are mountains and valleys with no neighbors for miles. There is an easy entry into manipulation and abuse when isolated. For example, in the wild, many predators lure their prey where no one else can see it. I know what that’s like.

I loved the mountain at my childhood home—plenty of pine trees for forts and rocks for jumping on. I had a whole pretend life on that mountain; its steep sides made it a challenge for little me. Juneberries blossomed and ripened around every corner, making the perfect snack in the summer. I had a kitchen, dining room, garden, and workshop in those trees. The large black rock I would climb on to read and write was a landmark to that hill. Often, I was driven outside in tears over my Dad’s yelling or parents’ arguing and outbursts, and my dog would meet me on that big rock. He was always there for me in the worst times, he knew when I was not okay. 

I felt alone a lot as a kid, even with a big family in a small town. I read many books, had crafting hobbies like weaving and crochet, and loved getting muddy outdoors. I was timid and afraid of getting hurt, and worse, I was terrified of getting in trouble. The eldest daughter has a lot on her shoulders, and I was determined to save the world somehow. But I was content with the idea of really helping at least one person. 

At first, I enjoyed my alone time. There was no stress, freedom in the fresh air, and no one to yell at me. I would talk to God or my dog and write in my journal endlessly. I was creative and energetic, so I always had something to do. I can say I am generally about the same now. Just as I was then, I am a particularly emotional person. Not in a reactive way, but in a very internalized manner. I have had a habit since childhood of not speaking unless I had to. I just observed and took mental notes. I’m sure it comes from a fear of getting in trouble or being targeted, and especially a fear of being ignored. I had a sense that if no one wanted to listen, I then have nothing to say. I was worried I was a burden to my family, and if I had nothing good to say, then I wouldn’t say anything. Habits like that were so common for me to continue as I grew up. I wanted to be invisible, out of the way, and not a burden to anyone. I desired more than anything to make my parents’ lives easier and for them to love me. 

I think God made mountains for such beautiful reasons. I know the mountains have healed things in me, even though they can’t talk. Living in multiple different states, I felt sick without the mountains. The thrill of climbing them, the way they grow out of the horizon in sunset lighting, the trees and animals that they home. I have always and will always love mountains. They are difficult too. They require tough treks, good shoes, stamina, and determination to get to the top (and even some bravery coming down). Moses took adventures to the tops of mountains to speak to God; the theme of spiritual journeys to mountains is common in the Bible. From Noah’s Ark to The Sermon on the Mount, mountains play a big role in the ways of humanity and our relationship with God. I am so thankful and blessed that God allowed me to be surrounded by them, for the ability to climb them and simply see them with my own eyes. 

When I was 18 and moved out of the house, I started giving myself stick-and-poke tattoos. I started with a bee on my knee, which is now my business logo, and then a heart on my sleeve. I added mountains inside the heart because to me, that’s where the mountains will always be. I had a lot of fun in my childhood climbing up the rough ridges and hills along my family’s property. As an Idaho kid, scraping your knees on rocks and getting covered in dirt was normal. There’s a good reason I don’t wear a lot of white…

God speaks to me on the mountains. Not loud and bright like in Moses’ story, but gently and kindly like a good Father does to his daughter. He would enter into my imaginary worlds and guide me to better choices. There were some rough days in the mountains. One particular day, I tried to take my life, but God had much better plans for me. I ate plants that weren’t edible in hopes I would slowly die, and my parents would finally pay attention to me. Thank God for his sovereignty and ways, that I was not even sick or close to dying. I just had every intention of letting go. I thought the world would be better off without me. 

Turns out, you can’t help people by taking your own life. And then you’ll miss out on all the mountains God wants you to climb. I will ask you to do one thing for me since you’ve read this far. If you see or sense abuse, don’t keep quiet. Speak about it until something changes. Be there for the people you know have a lot going on, and especially those who seem to always be happy and have everything together. We don’t know the mountains of pain that can hide behind someone’s big smile. 

I know from living in a small town that a lot of abuse gets overlooked. “Jimmy doesn’t get beat, so it can’t be that bad” type of mindsets are common. 78% of abuse is neglect, and studies have shown that if babies are left alone with no love and attention, they die. It is important to keep an eye out for different behaviors like drug use, isolation, and depression, because they can be signs of abuse. April is Child Abuse Prevention Month. To show your support for the children being abused, please talk to your friends, family, and community members and educate each other on the dangers of abuse. Thank you for reading, and remember God is with you and loves you more than life itself. 

CAP Month