She's
tired of being strong.. doing it all, all of the time.
As a
child she survived her mother and brother.
She’s still
haunted by the screams of her mother cursing her.
She
still dreams of her brother’s ghost coming after her in the house that gave her
so much pain.
Her broken pieces are in the night shadows and behind the walls of her childhood bedroom.
The memories of all the wars fought in that house followed her when
she left.
Escape
was the plan.
But you
can't escape from the wounds.. they follow you.
You
can't pack them away and place them in storage for safe keeping.
Your
pain wears you.
She
figured this out right away.
From
the music she picked to the overstated black wardrobe she admired.
She
wore pain beautifully.. tattooed her story on unseen parts of her body.
She
believed her story had purpose.. served her on her path.
Anyone
who met her for the first time could feel her darkness and see the light hidden
behind her eyes.. a mixture of safety and danger.
She
didn't make friends easily.. yet everyone liked her.
They
came to her for guidance.. for clarity and answers to the unknown.
Helping
others fed her need to be needed.
It also
made her felt seen.
She's
grown now.. grown into a courageous, strong woman, but she's tired of carrying
her pain.
Tired
of feeling tied to it.
Tired
of feeling no one really sees her.. like her true self is hiding in the
shadows.. still that small, vulnerable girl that just wanted someone to love
her, to hold her, to validate her worth.
She
struggles everyday with loving herself but she's trying, not giving up.
If her
pain has taught her anything, it's defined her immeasurable ability to
withstand anything that life gives her.
It’s
her armor.. her beauty.. her powerful declaration to the world, I Can Take
Whatever Shit You Give Me!
