The Who Am I Series

1. What has happened in your life that you are particularly proud of? I pause, slightly disturbed that the first thing my mind conjures is the moment at the gas station. The first moment I felt a chain fall, my skin feel a little lighter. The moment I stared back, never flinching, never faltering, conquering the one thing that always drove me to break in the past. I held his eyes, held my ground, not allowing him to win this time. This time, I would win. This time I would come out feeling proud, feeling a little bit closer to free. 

They say freedom comes with forgiveness. By all accounts, I think they’re right. Though I cannot lie and tell you my soul did not find something I needed that day. I knew in that moment, on that day, that I was no longer that girl from the past. This girl had risen up, stood for the girl who could not. She was stronger than any past version of me I had ever been. 

  Strange, that this moment would mean so much to me. But it does. It was the day I stood for me, for her, for them. I stood against one of my greatest struggles and I came out better than okay. I came out victorious. 

My next greatest triumph, the day I walked into her office and told her, “I’m not okay.” She smiled and in that smile I knew she understood. She knows that smiles and sadness sometimes hold hands and make love. My heart hammered and I had to say some of the things out loud that day. 

  I had to tell her that the panic attacks were getting closer together and it was time to stop running. I had to tell her about the boyfriend, who would hold me close in the beginning, whispering that he would protect me. Then I had to tell her that the same boy eventually began leaving bruises, telling me he was only joking when he said mean things. The same boy who promised to protect me, would leave me with the ability to whisper, “me too…”

  I had to tell her about the man I was forced to call, “Father”. How he was manipulative and how he made my mother cry more than he made her smile. I had to tell her the truth about the things. I still do. I still tell her. Little by little. I tell her the things that I’ve carried for so many years, taking power from them and lighting my soul with the slow burn.