“More Than Submissive”

I am safe today.

The words in my thoughts seem to float with an aimless purpose – whether by divine programming, or a faint sense of my old self, I cannot say which.  It has become my daily bread.  I serve it piping hot, one slice at a time, to my soul when it is hungry and tired.

I am free today.

Sunlight streamed through a small tree on a busy street, dappling the inner foliage of crimson brilliance as my child and I held each other underneath it.  We stared with wonder, both exclaiming the same thing at once.  In that moment we were both little girls, children of God, and free in unison.  We did not dwell on the bustle of adults rushing by, for we were small, simple and sweet- no pain, or sorrow, or fear.  It is the joy of love for the little things that cupped us both and held us tenderly.  This memory will never part from me, and I cherish it when I feel enslaved by the past.

I am silent today.

Under my anger, my fear, is guilt and shame… for self-blame inflicted long after the physical wounds faded.  I could have, should have, would have...  the why’s, the blames.. the memories.. Purged, today.  I am empty, clean, and sit in my own silence of warm loving thoughts.  I did the best I could.  That is the Grail we all strive to achieve.  I am a good woman.  I am a good mother.  My child is alive and beautiful.  My cup runneth over with love for both of us, silently.

I am valiant today.

Three years ago, I ran for my life, not wanting to remember rape and domestic violence.  As a child, I escaped into my mind.  Months ago, I hid from the world as suppressed memories filled my thoughts.  Survival skills are primitive instincts.  Under our sophisticated skins, we are hardwired from conception to be survivors.  We respond when faced with harm.  Freeze.. fight… flight.. go limp.  Today, I am calmly fierce.  Today, I embrace the sophisticated survivalist I am.  It kept me alive, and I am still here.

I am compassionate today.

Despite my fear and loathing, my nature is not vindictive.  I cannot walk the path of Hate for long, because it is harmful and exhausting.  The woman buried in me knows the difference between the strength of compassion and the weakness of submission, although from the outside, they may look the same.  But I know.. I know myself.. and I am okay with how I am.

Today, I will remove my shoes and sit by the roadside of Hate, and breathe the calm air.

I am Me today.


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