Today I told someone my thoughts were like lulls in an ocean. I find myself, occasionally rendered speechless with the depth of what I think. He said I was too quiet. Beneath my calm, I thought of everything and I couldn’t stop talking and expressing and feeling. I felt I had too much to say, but everything I wanted to say felt inadequate or not enough… so I said nothing, nothing at all.
This space of serenity is within me. I am also my storm. I am my reward. I have made friends with solitude. I’ve made amends with myself. For almost a year, I’ve been in the process of great change. There are mirrors everywhere I look. Everyone and all things living show me myself. So who am I not to love or forgive anyone? I am in the midst of grief and reflection— I believe I have been the caterpillar inching forward with a hump back. Heavy burdens that protrude with each step as I’ve climbed and sought refuge from my inner demons. I’ve felt helpless and alone; fearful and tired; empty and bitter. Growth it seems is not without pain. I’ve fed myself knowledge to expand and fill the holes disappointments and setbacks have created. I’ve become a bigger person, a better me. I’ve even found beauty in my ugliness and mistakes.
I’ve shed a skin.
I believe we become adults in stages and today, Gladney feels a newfound gladness and freedom. I’m reveling in me. Perhaps that sounds silly or obnoxious but damn, I feel good! Smiling for no reason, smiling for being. I’m laughing out loud unexpectedly like my joy can’t be contained as a simple notion. I am a woman fully grown. I accept accountability for my actions thus far and those that will be committed. I own all of me. So that I may live truly and fully. Yes, a black butterfly. A monarch. A matriarch of truth, wisdom, & love. I lay to peace those who have brought me hardship or pain. And maybe in that, I’m selfish because I do it for me to be free.
I grew wings
Make love, not war… there are crimes of passion we commit even to ourselves. I destroyed parts of my being because I’ve feared being hurt. I’ve been so strong, I couldn’t be weak. I have found it hard to trust because I didn’t want to be let down. I was screen door, open with a layer of protection. I was crippled, but now I’m whole.
Have you forgiven yourself for not being perfect?