Being Exposed

photo found here  by Brandi Beaty

It's the day of the year that always sends me into a spiral, no matter what I try to do or how I try to hide it finds me. The pain of that day all those years ago. It stings still. It demands my attention and this year I am giving it that. I'm ignoring the should's and the "helpful" advice and I'm letting it be what it is. I'm letting myself hurt, even though honestly I would just rather move on.

"Every time I open my mouth take off my clothes, I'm raw and frostbitten from being exposed. I got red scabby hands and purple scabby feet and you can smell me coming from halfway down the street". ani

I feel like I've worked so hard and that this is the place where I stumble. It would seem to me now that I might use this pain as a cushion, an excuse, because without it what would I be accountable for? What could I move, who could I inspire, what might I stir in this world? It might seem easier to use the hurt the pain and hide behind it, but really I'm done with that.

I don't want to stand behind the wounds anymore. I want to stand in front of them. I want to walk tall, with the wounds behind me. Not abandoning them, but using them as a force that propels me.

It's time. It's been too long. Too much time has passed and I want to release it, to dare to celebrate that it is a part of me. That it's played a role in my transformation and without it I would not be this brave warrior girl. I would still be timid and afraid of the shadows on the wall. I walk bolder now, I say "f#*k it" more and I embrace myself more fully. More deeply. I am less afraid of being abandoned.

I listen to ani and feel the force inside of me. It is no longer a place I look away from, even the painful parts. I love them more, I love that they are a part of me and I am now stirred to sit and listen to them, to learn the lessons that they hold and when they are calling to be released I open up my soul and let them go. But they are no longer over looked, no longer passed by. They are as much a part of me as the joyful bits. It is all of this that makes me whole.

And for so long I thought that I wasn't whole. I thought that I was broken and ruined. But I see it so differently now. I see that each thing, each piece makes me what I am. That I was never anything less than whole and that no matter what happens I will always be one complete girl. My journey is far from over but I walk it taller, more solid in the knowing. Less questioning of the things outside of me and more rooted on the inside.

I don't know what the rest of this day will bring. I don't know it I will continue to sit with this or if I will leave it all here on the screen. But I have peace for whatever it is. I know that some healing of myself has occurred here. It may take eight more years of this writing and spilling or I may find that next year the say slips by. But whatever it is, it's alright. It's all okay because it is my healing, my path and my pain. It is me whole, brave and solid.

And I'm sharing it here because I don't want to hide it. I want to expose it and again stand in front of it. Coming out, if you will. These dark parts, they are what make my writing so powerful. I do not want to deny this part. I won't. It is me. I won't carry it as a burden but as a light, shining forth into this world.