Tag: lessons

Just a line

There comes a time in life when you realize you will always be just a line in a paragraph in someone else’s chapter. Or maybe you will actually be a whole paragraph, or maybe you were a whole chapter. This got me thinking. I do a lot of thinking. When I start to think sometimes I drive myself insane, I spin in circles, mentally in overdrive flying over speed bumps landing hard and giving myself whiplash. Stupid girl! Yes, I just called myself stupid, because that is what I am when I allow myself to spin in my own crazy thoughts. I know I am not the only one that spins crazy when thoughts get overwhelming.

I started writing this a few weeks ago and again I hated where it was going so I left it alone. I seem to be doing that I a lot. But I have a vision. I know what I want to write and what I do not. So, I let this sit here until I was ready to come back to it. I am still not sure I am ready to finish this piece, but for some reason here I sit typing away random nonsense that is filling my head hoping something will come of this.

Over the last several weeks I have realized many things that I think I just pushed aside for long periods of time, because I was not ready to face them. This is how this entry started. Maybe I was still afraid to face a few things when I started this, but I have decided that I can no longer live in fear. If I constantly walk around hiding and living in the shadows I will never allow myself to fully live. I want to live life to its fullest. I want to feel the sun kiss my skin, the wind chill me to my bones, I want to run in the rain, and breathe in the fresh smells of the seasons changing. I cannot do this if I hide from everything.

I do not want to be some line in someone else’s paragraph or chapter. I want to make my own story, my own path, when there is a fork in the road I want to be able to say I decided to take this path, because of blah blah blah and if you want to judge look in the mirror first. The only way I can do this is by allowing myself to stop hiding, to create my own story, and to welcome change.

Haters are going to hate. People are not going to like what I have to say. I must be okay with this. I am getting ready to share my blog on my social media pages with my family and friends that have no idea this exists. I am nervous, scared, but again I need to stop living in the shadows and embrace who I truly am. This is me. I am a writer. I am a powerful beautiful mother, woman, and just a down to earth girl who wants to live life to the fullest and stop letting everyone dictate how I live. I want to show my kids to live life and not be afraid of what anyone thinks of you. Everyone judges. It is in our nature. But it is up to everyone to choose how they handle the judgement. I have decided I will face it head on, and no longer be afraid. I am living for myself and my family. I need to be strong for us. I need to be true to who I am, own who I am, and show my children this. I want to be a great role model and I certainly do not want to settle to be just a line in a paragraph in someone else’s chapter. That is not who I am.

A Secret

Being a secret can be a rush. There is that excitement. The adrenaline that fills your body. The rush of it running through your veins can be addicting. It becomes a habit. We know right from wrong at such a young age, and yet so many are okay with being a secret. The side piece. The second choice. The extra piece of pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving that everyone knows if they have they will have to undo the top button of their jeans. And here we are…someone’s secret, or passed secret, because, well lessons learned. Karma is a bitch.

I will fully admit I was a secret. Many people know I was a secret. It was a huge lesson in my life. Karma became my best friend for a while. She and I are pretty close. We’re tight bitches. I am sitting here debating in my head how to put my thoughts into words, it is not admitting who I am that I fear, I know what I did, and I am not afraid to admit what wrongs I have done in my life. I like to think of myself as an open book. I am sitting here debating where to go with this entry. I want my writing to reflect the things I go through, what I face, who I truly am, the raw, the deep dark thoughts that run through my head. This is who I am.

When I first started writing this entry it was going in a different direction. I did not like the way I wrote anything after this last paragraph. I was stuck. I kept going back and forth on whether I should post this or not. I decided not too until I took another look at it. Then the words came to me on exactly what I was trying to say, and of course I had to be driving down the highway. Hate when that happens.

I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but I have a secret. I hide so much emotion behind my smile, my eyes, that only those that truly know me know the ends and outs of my pain. The dark twisty path my beautiful soul walks every day. The things I have experienced most would not survive, but here I am with my secrets that have made me who I am that only few know.

I stand strong today. I wear gold wings of hope, I am a voice in someone else’s darkness, their strength for just a few minutes, letting them know everything will be alright, getting help sent their way. That little bit of light in the deepest darkness of suffocation where one feels there is no hope. I survived my dark twisty thorn scar filled path for a reason. To help others.

Slowly, over the years, I have shared my secrets of pain. I wear them on my sleeves, embrace the path life has led me, and I have learned how to grow from the pain. I can honestly say I love the woman I am becoming. No longer do I fear of the shadows that lurk in the darkness.

Yes, I was a secret. I learned a huge lesson. Karma is a bitch. Karma teaches lessons if you are willing to learn.

Some of you are probably curious about what I meant when I said, ‘I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but have a secret.’ In time.