Weathering the Storm

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Sometimes I feel alone as I weather the storm. On social media, so many women appear to have it “all together.” Meanwhile, I sit alone with soldiers battling inside my mind and body. The battle is fierce, but I make a choice. I choose to keep it “all together.” I find myself climbing, striving and pushing. I move through the motions, but the pain climbs, strives and pushes me too. The battle is too brutal. I flee. Yes, I flee and abandon the pain. But the pain cries out like an abandoned child.

Days pass. And the pain catches up to me, stabbing at my limbs like a murder victim. I lay there, weathering the storm, alone and afraid. I begin to crawl instead of climb; struggle instead of strive; pause instead of push. But it’s not easy to climb, strive and push for days on end. My battle becomes vicious, until I can’t flee anymore.

And in a breaking moment, my friend is nearby. When I break open, to my surprise, she breaks open too. Our tears break with untold stories. Breaking open frees us. Yes, it frees us from the solitude of captivity. We take hands and decide to weather the storm together.

Sharing our pretty, ugly, scary, shameful, painful stories is bold – it’s an oasis.

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3 thoughts on “Weathering the Storm

  1. SW says:

    Seasons change so can I
    Digging deep I plant a seed
    It struggles to grow
    I plan to grow
    I pray for water
    The rain pours buckets
    Through the floods I swim upstream
    The seedling rests
    protected
    Covered by A blanket of snow
    I am protected always protected by me
    The cold winter passes
    As the seedling sleeps
    I sleep I wake I sleep I wake
    Warm spring. sunshine gives strength to the little seedling
    My heart is healed with the warmth from the sun
    Peaking through the earth
    Grows a colorful bud
    I feel alive
    A flower is born
    So am I again and again

    Liked by 1 person

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