Stories

Day 1 of 365: Self-Reflection Journey

Day 1 of 365: Self-Reflection Journey

What brings me joy? I don’t know. Why are questions like that so difficult? That is the first question I have to answer on the first day of this self-reflection journey and it’s the most difficult one.

Compromising Myself for Love?

Compromising Myself for Love?

Compromise happens all the time. There are compromises that you don’t have to think about and ones that take a bit more time to ponder. And then, you have to factor in the reason for the compromise. So that is an essential piece of compromise too.

Proof? You Ask For Proof?

Proof? You Ask For Proof?

I have no proof, no evidence. Of course, I don’t because no one listened. And now that evidence is gone. Or is it? I realize how much evidence I have within me and how I react and interact with the world. This poem is about contending with all the evidence I carry with me.

Unburdening Myself with Truth

Unburdening Myself with Truth

Unburdened is such a relatively innocuous word representing so much of what had to happen for me to heal. The moment I released myself from the burden of being the secret keeper and the scapegoat meant I could breathe for the first time.

Holding Space: What it Means

Holding Space: What it Means

I get frustrated and angry when people don’t hold space for me after I have shared a hard truth with them. What is wrong with them? I needed them, and they were not there. Is it they don’t know what holding space means? Perhaps, so let’s clear that question up. Read on.

Who, indeed? A Poem About Reaching Out

Who, indeed? A Poem About Reaching Out

It sounds so simple. Call someone when the darkness creeps in, but it isn’t simple. My poem, “Who, indeed?” is about the difficulty of calling someone. Who can help me when the onslaught of darkness brings me to my knees?

Overtaken: A Poem About Depression

Overtaken: A Poem About Depression

I wrote “Overtaken” to describe what succumbing to a depressive valley feels like. I have always found the written word, especially poetry, much safer than speaking. Writing provides me the space to process my world.

Time Changes

Time Changes

Time Changes Lately, my thoughts are turning to the finiteness of time. I am not sure why. Is it because I am getting closer to my half-century mark? Maybe. Time changes us all. I have never been something overly concerned about aging. It could be my fascination with...

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