Once upon a time, I couldn’t recognize myself in the mirror. Who was this girl staring back at me? Surely, it couldn’t be me. Did I always look like a ghost? Did I always have this faraway look, like I was not truly present in my life at all?
Once upon a time, I allowed people to fill me in with whatever they wished to fill me in with. I was empty yet full. I was brimming with everyone else. I didn’t know a different way to be. So, I morphed into what they needed.
Once upon a time, I was left a broken shell. I was hollowed out. Bit by bit, piece by piece, they chipped at me, hoping to turn me into their version of me. A version that they believed to be “correct”. It was simple enough in the beginning. I colluded with them too. I gave them the chisels, the hammers and the scalpels. They were careful with me. Almost gentle.
Once upon a time, I changed the game. I had nothing left in me to give. And I wished to not be filled in anymore. I felt a tiny flame flicker somewhere deep down within me. I didn’t know what it was at the time. Now I do. It was my essence. It was light, love, joy and hope. It was me. Not the ghost me or the sculpted version of me. But truly me. As simple as that.
Once upon a time, I resurrected. I stepped into my life. I leaned into myself. It took everything I had. But in the end, I found myself. I united with myself. I became the light, the love, the joy and the hope. I became so much more.
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