MIRROR GLAZING GLARING and REFLECTIVE MOVES

My Storyworth question about my moving as a child has had my mind replaying life experiences. Lifelong questions as to WHY appeared to me during the night. I am hopeful I can put into words the TRUTH of my struggles with my GYPSY spirit. My shadow self honestly responds.

I recognize that I desire to feel I have a purpose, am valued, am important, and have a place in this world. Where does that begin? I have asked God to show me the truth as He surfaces in me what needs to be healed. I may have my answers as He showed me incidents that threatened my identity and caused me to react through depression or longing for more or searching for my “where do I fit or where do I belong?”  I understand my “gypsy” is a natural response to the many moves in my life. My brother once said to me during a phone conversation, “is that gypsy music I hear in the background?” 

My birth was in Huntington, WV but mom & dad lived in Grayson, KY. The next move was Frankfort, KY to the Peaks Mill community. There I remember Easter egg hunts, church people, getting the first black & white Emerson TV so dad could watch boxing, the birth of my brother Wendell, visits from grandparents, and other family, missionaries, evangelists, Willie Owens babysitting, a pot belly stove at church, and so much more.  It is amazing how many memories I have at a young age. Our next move was to Macedonia Church in Lexington, KY. It was a much larger church and the people, as I remember, were more horse farm people than tobacco farmers like in Peaks Mill. The church and parsonage were stone and both with big white columns. There was a big park on the property and we eventually had a horse, a Palomino named Rocky. Dad had traded a car for Rocky when he was preaching a revival somewhere. Dad’s family would visit and hunt. I remember big spiders my grandmother said would catch me in their web and eat me. I would stand on the big well box and sing and dance to “blue suede shoes” and jump off like a dancer with feathers in her hair. It was a big house. There we welcomed by youngest brother Raymond Allen. There I started school, Athens Elementary. When I was in the first and second grades, I felt secure, safe, and special. I was an excellent reader, and my teachers acknowledged my reading abilities and expression. I was singled out to read to other classrooms. I am confident that my identity was cemented at that time with the need to excel. In the middle of my second year, I left Athens Elementary in Lexington, KY and moved to Highlawn Elementary in Huntington, WV. Notes followed me with commendations of my excellence in reading. Consequently, my new teachers supported my strength and challenged me to continue to achieve more. I loved school. I joined Bluebirds, which was a wonderful social group that taught me crafts and social skills. I was proud to be part of an amazing group of friends. In fifth grade I was chosen to participate in a square-dancing group performing for the PTA and delegated to be the devotional leader to my fifth-grade class. In the middle of my fifth grade, I had to leave my friends, my favorite teacher, Mr. Owens and move to Third Ward School in Elkins, WV. I was sad. In those days we did not have communication options other than the postal service. Landline telephones were few so my goodbyes to my friends were truly goodbyes, goodbyes of I will never see you again. When I went to my first day of school in Elkins, Danny, a boy from our church, came to our house to walk me to school. We remain friends to this day. It is not easy to start in a new school in the middle of the year. I was pretty good at making new friends. We had recess outside which was a great chance to get to know my fellow classmates. My teacher was helpful with the transition and welcomed me and encouraged my success. I thrived. In the sixth grade my teacher asked me to sing in the talent show. My friends voted for me to be the Trash Queen for the Keep Elkins Clean festival. Being Trash Queen sounds awful, but it was truly quite an honor representing Third Ward school and riding on the back of a convertible in the parade. My seventh grade was junior high school. How fun it was to be moving up to junior high. I was popular and was a cheerleader for our school. I felt a sense of pride. My mother taught me how to direct music when I was eleven. My school choir director named me student director for our choral group. In the ninth grade I did not try out for cheerleader but received enough write-in votes. My WV history test scores qualified me to go to the capital to take the Golden Horseshoe test which was a high accomplishment. I could not go because my parents were unable to afford my trip. I still felt special knowing I qualified.

Then to Elkins High School. Wow! High School was a dream come true. I was in the Honor Society, soloist for the high school pop band and popular. I finished my tenth grade only to learn that we would be moving to Covington, VA. Once again, I had to leave my friends, school, church family, and a town I loved. I started my eleventh school year at Covington High School. It was awful. I was a foreigner in that school. I had lost my identity. My teachers were punitive and not encouraging. I felt like my life, my spirit had been stolen. It had indeed been taken from me. My identity was snatched away! The encouragement and cheering I had experienced from my previous teachers, friends and church family was replaced by people who surrounded me with gossip, discouragement, and jealousy. My popularity, my success, my excitement for my future was no longer part of who I was. My teachers were critical of my work, making friends was difficult, the church people were mean and accusatory. I could do nothing right. I was no longer ME. I struggled for years with depression following my graduation from high school. I never “fit” anywhere. It was a dark hole I could not climb out of. My parents did not understand why I could not “shake yourself and get over it.” And guess what happened sixteen years later?

My husband, who was from Covington, moved our family back to Covington. Leaving my home in Chester, WV after seven years of friends, church, a place where I had successfully lived life and felt of sense of belonging to that of moving to the smelly papermill town where my spirit had seemingly been destroyed during my high school years was traumatic. I curled up in the fetal position with uncontrollable tears. The parsonage we were moving into was filthy. I could not face it. I could not unpack. I stayed in the fetal position. That parsonage held many unhealthy memories from my youth. Church people came by. I remember vividly one lady saying, “the piano has always been on this wall” as she saw that I had placed it on a different wall. The criticisms had begun. They never quit. Criticisms of my wardrobe, my choice of music, my community friendships. It was awful. I used antidepressants to cope with life alongside my preacher husband, a critical church community, and ongoing struggles for acceptance. So, what did I do?

I returned to college, earned my associate’s degree in nursing, stopped antidepressants, passed my boards, and became a registered nurse. Where would I work? While in nursing school I did clinicals in Rockbridge County at Stonewall Jackson Hospital. I fell in love with that small community owned hospital and the staff who worked there. I felt like I fit in. So, I applied, was hired and began my career. Driving the distance would be difficult considering I would typically be working twelve-hour shifts rotating from days and nights along with scheduled eight-hour shifts. I found my place. I belonged. I felt respected. The church people in Covington were not pleased with my being away from the stereotypical role of preacher’s wife. My family was feeling neglected with my long hours away from home. So reluctantly I applied for a job in Home Health at the local hospital in the Covington area. As a new nurse there was much to learn. I travelled to seven counties providing home care. I loved it. I became the first Hospice nurse in Alleghany County. It was exhausting. Church people had expectations that interfered with my employment specifically due to the Medicare payment systems. In conflict with my boss, I quit my job. I called the director of nursing at Stonewall Jackson Hospital and was eagerly welcomed back to a place I called home. It became clear to me that I needed to find a place to live in Rockbridge County. I did. Life changed. It was a decision that jeopardized my relationship with my children which was heartbreaking to me. It was the decision that kept me alive. Since those years I have moved multiple times, worked in at least twelve different states, visited forty-nine of our 50 states, bought and sold homes, became a licensed nursing home administrator, blessed my children and grandchildren, cared for aging parents, worked as a paralegal, retired and am now caring for my aging spouse.

I truly feel like I have arrived at the place called “self-actualization.” My faith is strong. I know I am loved.

This morning, I heard the Lord say, “Your next move is an emotional healing move. You are moving from the need to search for validation. This move releases you from the need to fit in. This move frees you to accept your own self-worth and recognize your value. You have made a difference in this world. You have traveled and touched many people. You are free to love your family, celebrate their lives, care for your husband and be content knowing you are still the little girl with excellent reading skills. You are the cheerleader for your children and grandchildren. You are important! Be good to yourself.”

Janie Roberts Davis 11/03/2025