The bruises on my heart are clear statements that I am indeed blessed. The fights I’ve fought and the blows I’ve reveived have never stopped me from surviving. Never caused me to be more than momentarily hopeless.
My presence is proof of my survival. I have fallen down, and I have brushed myself off and stood again. The things that have hurt me no longer have power over me. Neglected, betrayed, used, singled out and tortured.
I have loved someone that didn’t love me back. I have stood up for someone who betrayed me. I have done for friends things they would never do for me and I have been ignored by those whose attention I crave the most. I am supposed to be a broken girl. I am supposed to be helpless.
Instead? I walk with purpose. I speak with confidence. My eyes hold a fire none of my abusers will ever understand. I will be a better me.
“I know what it is to have someone be your opiate…but no matter how deep in, I promise so long as you decide to, you will survive. But you have to choose to heal. Sometimes we wallow in our pain … as though it might present us the possibility that maybe its not going to end this painfully, maybe it will turn around. Sometimes it is what it is, and after the grief, you rise.” -Nature