As I type this I am thinking of the long road I have travelled in order to come into my own skin and live in it in perfect harmony with my flaws and my triumphs.
Today I relinquish my story.
Everyone has a painful story, a story they have developed over time, a story that defines them and a story often holds them hostage.
I, too, have my story; a story of loss, of being symbolically castrated by my vices and blinded by my shortcomings. It is a story that has excused my mistakes and forgiven me my wrongs. It’s a story I relished telling because it is a story that blamed others for my pain and left me free to bask in their pity and sympathy of those who heard it.
But my story was my bondage, forever pinning me down and holding me back. What if I left the warm cocoon of self pity and self indulgence, ventured out into a world of risking my strength and testing my feet? If I fell and didn’t have my story to cushion my blow, would I be OK? When I am asked to account for mistakes I make in the clear light of day and find myself bare of excuses and without cover would I stand firm and would I humbly submit to learning form my mistakes?
When I examine myself and allowed the mirror of truth to speak to me without the muffling of my story would I listen? Would my personal yardstick be longer than that which I hold against those I judge so harshly and so freely? Would I allow myself to stand firm in my beliefs and the pursuit of my destiny?
My story has walked with me, weighing upon my step, making my mark upon whatever I stepped on indelible and destructive. My story has held me back, jealous of the power of my triumph over it’s emotions. My story has not helped me. It has not changed anyone else’s life, it has been fear-mongering and often alienating of others. My story has been a wall between me and my future, a cloud above the present, forever casting a shadow of gloom on the achievements of today.
I don’t start anew, I simple start with a lighter load. A chapter, of hope and dreams.
PS: Forgive any typos
