Ink Stained Soul…

The picture became so clear in my mind.
My dreams once looked shapeless as a watercolor painting.
It took form slowly.
Over time the lines sharpened.
Details emerging as the colors brightened.
Reality began to exhibit the painting of my life.
And so, I walked in both worlds for I know where I am supposed to be.

I feel everything: each pause, silence, chatter meant to distract. The pain in someone’s eyes, their energy – every moment of good, the heart aches from the bad, loss, so much loss. When I untangle it all, I find the illusion, and still, I see my heart. I remember it all.

Your trauma may have shaped you, but it didn’t define you. Every dark spot it left on your soul was reborn when you rose from the ashes. Your scars are your proof of beauty.

If I could give any younger girl, woman, or person any advice, this is what I would say… While the shock of life washes over you, hold onto the part of yourself that shines. Give yourself time to be angry, but never cruel. Find your voice as soon as possible. Start with yourself in the mirror; if you can’t speak it yet, write it for yourself. Let your anger and grief have their place. They deserve to be seen. Listen to your body. If you feel unsafe, leave. Have a retreat, a place you can feel connected to yourself. Reclaim your connection to your body. Whether it has experienced challenges through trauma or not, your body is a treasure that carries the gift of life. Cherish it. Hydration is essential. Never listen to someone whose life you wouldn’t want. Be kind, especially to yourself. If they talk about others to you, they are talking about you. Loving all parts of yourself is the only way to truly love. Never stop growing as a person. Take missteps as opportunities to improve. Not everyone deserves your energy. Be careful with your body; honor it with your choices. Let the connection you have with yourself be so full of love that you never settle for what can’t match that. Love is always worth it. You are the only one who can appoint value to yourself.

Knowing you would repeat the cycle over and over didn’t stop it from crushing me. I couldn’t love you enough to save you, to save us. When the sky blue in your eyes dulls into slate, I know you’re gone. Once I was your treasure, now I’m just the imperfect heartbreaker thrown in a box. If love had ever been enough, we would have saved each other. The bed feels extra empty. No one is there to dance with me. The air’s heavier. I wanted to hear that one giggle for the rest of my life. Who will wipe my tears? Who will water this Pisces? All my wounds, you know them. We turned into memories. That’s all you left me when you walked out again.

I collected the pieces of myself left behind. Shard fragments from trauma created my Horcruxes. Piece by piece I was forming into someone I don’t have any memories of being. Whole. With my pieces restored I became whole.

Love isn’t someone who would die for you. They won’t save you, nor should you save them. Love is living for yourself and having someone stand beside you while you both save yourselves. Your love inspires life, blooming into knowing when to stand behind them should they need reminding they have someone right there. Living a full life in what your love created is key. This causes one to stand in front of you to shield you, sometimes from even yourself. No, don’t die for me – can you live for me? That is how to love, and it starts with loving yourself.

It’s rather simple to see the moves being made. Hypervigilance from necessity gives you this edge. Fabricate what you want to be known, laying it out meticulously. Sharpening your sword while you’re believed to be crumbling in the dark. Letting the picture they’re painting of you unfold. Isolation becomes the weapon they thought was weakness. Building yourself in plain sight. Let them see some wins, as you magnify all the turbulence they believe you’re drowning in. Play the fool for your audience. And when the time is right, you’ll master the art of never getting caught.

The one who sees you is the one who leaves his mark. Learning your cues, the ones you didn’t even realize about yourself. Noticing the shifts in your eyes or face when something hits you in an unexpected way. The way they soften when you are truly happy. Taking note of how you become an innocent girl shining with love. Learning the songs that can pull you out of sorrow or make you smile. The one who makes sure not to be careless in his efforts, with reassurance that he doesn’t require you ask for. Simply because he wants you to never question it. Such a man leaves a mark unlike anything else, for he sees you with more than his eyes.

I don’t recall when it happened. Perhaps it wasn’t all at once, and so it was able to settle in over time. The realization has dawned on me that many things I longed for have become my reality. I’ve found peace. Blissful peace within my skin, in my home, and in my life as a mother. Love flows freely. My children are growing into amazing young people, having overcome the trauma of their past. Fear no longer exists in my reality, something I never thought I’d achieve.