To Be.

​Some days, I don’t want to be alive.

But those aren’t the days that scare me. 

It’s the days where I do that are the terrifying ones.

Where I feel this fight to survive well up from somewhere deep within. This desire to live, and live well, and live for myself. 

It’s those days that catch me off guard.

When you live so much of your life for other people, what is scariest is realizing you have the choice to live it for you. 

I’ve been wandering within the borders of this storm for so long that I didn’t realize there were places where I could live without rain. I don’t need to be drowning. I don’t even need to be wet.

I don’t have to create problems – I don’t have to consistently dump buckets of water on my own head to make me feel like I belong where I am.

I can simply… be. 

And that idea is so foreign to me.

I imagine it’s like viewing something for the first time – it’s strange. It’s different. I am allowed to stand on my own two feet? I have a voice, a choice? 

As an adult I am able to yell “NO MORE” and I have the right – a right I was born with – a right that was ignored until now – I have a right to expect you to listen. 

I can put up my hand and say stop. I have a voice. I write this story now.

And as I use my voice the trauma becomes not the narrative of my life but a thread of prologue. A part of the story that explains how I got here but that does not define who I am.

No, only I have that right.

And who I am does not need to line up with who they say I have to be. 

I get to be me. And I get to decide what that looks like. And I can change my mind. And what I need today can be different tomorrow but what they all have in common is they are my. choices.

So yes, the days where I want to live are much scarier than those where I want to cease existing. 

But I take off the shackles and realize I now have the power to walk out of my cell. I didn’t always, and I lament that, and I mourn it and I grieve it. And I love that part of me. That scared child who did not know anything of the world outside those four walls. Who internalized it. Who believed she was born to play the victim and that love would always be conditional. 

But I’m an adult now. And I get to choose.

The outside terrifies me. The world outside the cell – one with choice and safety and stability – that world that is not my normal.

And yet day by day, as I grow stronger, it’s the world where I want to be.

I am reclaiming this life. For me, for her, for us.


4 thoughts on “To Be.

  1. I relate to this post so strongly. I am just learning that the choices are mine and the stability is mine to create. It’s difficult to wrap my head around. I am proud of you for the strength you showed in this post.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. It is pretty scary to try something new, isn’t it? Or to really be able to see that most everything you’ve been taught is actually what was wrong. Not you or your intuition. I think this process of starting to see more clearly is really scary and unsettling, because it is so new and foreign. And maybe there is a sense that it can’t quite be trusted yet. I totally feel you on this. It also feels exciting to hear you say all of this.


  3. 🙂 I am so, so, so proud of you. This post makes me so happy. I can feel your power, and that power is yours and nobody can take it away from you.
    One thing that popped into my mind while reading this is the “assertive bill of rights” (I don’t know if that’s the technical term or not). It’s a bill of rights for people and includes things like “I have the right to say no”. So I wanted to share
    That link has 20 of them, however I’ve read that it can be helpful for people to create their own bill of rights.

    Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s