As a child I was demure
obedient
restricted
uniformed schools and stuffy churches
expectations on how a person should be and act ingrained into my life from conception

I watched as others blossomed
allowed to grow in the faith and in their family
expectations a guide book they were more than eager to follow
I sat in the corner quiet and meager and scared of taking up too much space
there was a slot my peg was supposed to fit into
and maybe I did, but not in the way that it mattered

I saw the way my sisters fought with my mother
harsh words and violent tantrums
I felt the tension in the air and I never wanted to cause that

to this day I'd say I'm the same way
a peacekeeper and people pleaser
doing what I think I should do for others
as it changes how others see myself

I am kind
and I am gentle
and I am punctual
and I am tactful
but I am selfish
and I want
and I want
and I want

and there's a part of me that is scared to flourish
afraid that if I let myself be myself then I will hurt those around me I have spent so long trying to protect
I still try to fit into a mold that I have repeatedly cracked,
and when I look in the mirror I understand that everything I am built this figure

striking outfits and sharp bold black images marring my body
I am loud and unapologetic in the comfort of my own home
I am her when I am surrounded by my friends
but I know the truth and am skilled at wearing many faces
I still change the mask with every phone call to my mother
with every smile I flash at work
with every doctor's visit and strangers on the street

I'm still demure
and obedient
restricted and uniform
The image I'm projecting a direct reflection of my fears
I'm still the same child who was scared of rocking the boat
and I'm not quite sure how I feel about that

I'm trying to put these feelings into words but I don't know the vocabulary
I know I am uncomfortable
I feel reprimanded---
chagrined in a way that is thoughtful but wary of change

these steps seem simple to you
but I am trying and they're steeper than I'm used to
I'm scared that if I reach the top
then I will fall back to the bottom even harder than before

and the climb becomes more difficult each time
and the summit is never as beautiful as I was told
so I sit at the bottom of the stairwell and watch as others around me sprint up the steps
They're waiting for me again dancing at the top to a rhythm I've never heard and will forever struggle to learn

Healing takes time

it's a change I knew was coming
a slow reality setting in that want and desire are overthrown by happenstance
I'm facing a loss and for that I grieve
there was denial on my lips for the longest time
months of agonizing over weather or not it was all in my head even with the physical evidence in my hands
anger in the unfairness of it all, my youth clinging to thinning strands I once struggled to control
I tried to bargain with myself--a last ditch effort of treatments that promised a solution until reality shook me by the shoulders once again
at least I have this
I tell myself
but I know what's coming next, and I fear for that moment when depression rears it's head at me again,
grabbing me by the throat and forcing me to face myself in the mirror until I do not recognize the face looking back
there will be  acceptance one day
I will be comfortable again in my own skin
but for now I grieve a loss that is no body else's but my own

there will be no grave to visit

I think we were always destined to be this way
a kindred spirit who haunts my dreams
I compare everyone to you

call me again when you have your life figured out
I promise I'll probably still be waiting
and I'm not sure that's healthy

but if in years down the line I am content with another, and you asked me for a chance
then I'd have to at least think about it

There was a time I was drowning--
screaming--
air filled bubbles rising to the surface
until the darkness took over;
after awhile I found a cave,
an underwater haven where I could breathe
alone:
hidden

I managed some days to float--
aimlessly--
there in the dark;
it was cold,
and lonely;
the saltwater mixed with the tears
I didn't know I was crying;
I managed to dredge back to the cave

I was always waiting for something--
change,
light,
a hand,
but there was nothing but more darkness as far as I could see:
no way out,
the water too deep

I decided one day to take a chance--
to swim--
further than I ever had before;
up to the surface I was sure was there,
and if I drowned in the process, well
--I had already been drowning--

I was soon running out of air--
my chest burning--
I thought that:
surely this was the end

Then, a hand grabbed mine

a sudden pull

I was ****** to the surface


I saw the light for the first time in years,
and I breathed clean air into my lungs;
I stood on stable land;
I learned to walk again without the flow of water pushing against my chest

This was new--unfamiliar--
fear mixed with anticipation:
the promise that I could breathe easy again,
walk among the light,
float without sinking

It's still new--
still frightening--
but I am trying,
and I am healing,
the pruning of my fingers slowly dying down--
the salt in my chest no longer as coarse--
the darkness not nearly as daunting

I took a shower today
a ritual I was taught as a child--
one I had abandoned long ago;
showers are cleansing and comforting
I used to not think that I deserved that
but I needed a shower today and I took one
I know it may not seem like much to you
but I am proud of myself

I hold resentment towards you deep in my veins
every mention of you stirs something thick and dark--
I try to add water to thin it
the tears are never enough to smooth the churning
I feel the shame I don't believe you feel
this has become my normal
I keep trying to feel other things;
but resentment becomes anger and hurt rather than healing and forgiveness--
Still I stir