It had been a while since she wrote one of her stories.
She had been through heaven and hell since the last time.
She had developed a career, her former lovers were long gone into the night and replaced by long-term relationships that she had been in since then. She was reading the stories she had written over ten years ago and was wondering "who the hell is this person?"... What happened to me since then until now? Who did I become? Why? How? When? When did I become this whole different person? This unhappy person that can no longer enjoy making love or simply having sex? When did I become this person that is focused on the darkness and can no longer see the light?
It had been a tough path to reach where she was now. Only she did not willingly go there; not consciously at least. She, somehow, ended up there. Who is she today? She couldn't answer this question right now. She hadn't been able to for a while. She didn't recognise herself, she didn't like who she had become. But instead of having the clarity to admit what led her to that place, she was blaming it on her inner child. That little one that had made all the wrong decisions, she was the one to blame. She was responsible for all her troubles, it was all her fault! It didn't matter that all was fine, that little version of her buried deep inside was to blame for everything. That little version of her had to die, she had to be "taken care of", which in her mind meant to get rid of her. She was angry. She was hopeless. She was desperate to be someone else, without being able to point out what was wrong with who she was. Who she had become...
It had been years since she last wrote. It had been years since she last felt feelings of joy. It had been a long time since she was free enough to express herself. Who was she a prisoner of? She couldn't answer that question if her life depended on it. All she knew was that she was not good enough. Not anymore. Was she ever though? Nobody could tell her.
All she knew was how far she had come. Unfortunately, this did not offer any kind of consolation. She had made something of her life, in the social way of her times at least... She had become a great professional; she had a great job, one she feared she was not good enough for. She had her own home, one she feared she would lose if she lost her job. She had friends to support her through thick and thin, ones she feared would give up on her if they knew who she truly was. She had family that was constantly by her side, one she feared would one day have enough of her and will only allow her in their lives because they "had to". So who was she truly?
She was a wet puppy under a bridge... She had been drowning in the ocean. Wave after wave, she was underwater. Stuck in head-in by the strong currents and hitting her head on the rocks at the bottom of the sea. There was nothing but water around her. The deeper she was pulled, the darker it was getting. She closed her eyes and tried to remember her face. But all she could see was a doll.
She was going to therapy, and at first, she felt like she had taken a hammer and was breaking her porcelain self into pieces, a little at a time. She was broken into 100 pieces, and kept breaking herself further, into a thousand pieces, and again, into a million pieces. Until she would become nothing but colourless sand... And then?
Then she started picking all the pieces up, she started to re-assemble herself. Her colourless sand started to form a shape. And little by little some color started popping up. She was never going to be the same. She was getting reborn. A brand new, healthy version of herself.
So she started talking to her little version... Her little porcelain broken self. Just the two of them. The two of them and her two cats. She was so afraid she would end up alone, she didn't realise she had been pushing away the only existence that had been and always will be accompanying her throughout the remainder of her path: her Self.
And this is when she realised it... It had all started. From this point onwards it was inevitable: she would never be alone again! She now had to master her motherly instincts in order to protect that inner child. She no longer needed to have children to feel whole. She already had a broken, damaged, hurt child to take care of. She allowed her to sit next to her on her new sofa, in their new home. She welcomed this child for the first time. She let her breath. She let her feel. She even tried to take care of her. She promised her that the next time she feels scared she will not have to face that fear alone:
And keep my eyes above the waves
When oceans rise, my soul will rest in Your embrace
For I am Yours and You are mine
Your sovereign hand
Will be my guide
Where feet may fail and fear surrounds me
You've never failed and You won't start now
Crashes over me, crashes over me
For You are for us
You are not against us
Champion of Heaven
You made a way for all to enter in
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence my Saviour (You make me brave)
As Your love, in wave after wave
Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
You make me brave
You make me brave
No fear can hinder now the promises You made
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