Restoring my bridge

For the first time in 20 years, I feel like I finally know what I want out of my life. It’s heartbreaking to realize it took me THIS LONG. But then again, some people in their 60s & 70s still don’t know what they want out of life.

Oddly enough, I don’t feel like I’ve wasted my time. I honestly look at it as good, real world experience. All the chaos, drama, problems, & difficulties I went through have molded me into this strong woman you’re reading about today. Even if I don’t feel strong, I know that I’ve gained not only strength but also wisdom, compassion, & patience. God knows how long I’ve been working hard at how I handle those negative situations. I’ve been backstabbed, lied to, dropped, & attacked in more ways than I care to admit. I’m trying to not let it harden my heart. It’s easy for me to create a barrier & hide away.  But you can only do that for so long. Because, my friend, it’s dangerous & self-destructive. And yes, I’m speaking from experience.

I was in a very dark place for years & years. Only a small handful of people know about this time & even smaller know the intimate details. While I’m not one to open up completely all at once, I promise you over time you will know my story. For now, just know that it’s taking me a long time to get to this point. I’m finally seeing some healthy changes in my mind, in my spirit, in my soul, & in my body. I want to use this momentum for good.

I feel like I’m standing at the end of a bridge & there’s this huge gap to the other side. My bridge is broken but it’s mine. For years, I’ve walked away from the gap, saying, “I can’t do this!” Sometimes, I’ve fallen down & cried. Sometimes, I’ve pulled up parts of the bridge myself. I’ve been jealous of others who effortlessly skip down their bridge. I’ve been angry at those who walk on their bridge & scoff at me in my pain. Why couldn’t my path have been as easy as theirs? During the dark storms, I curled up on my bridge & let the rain pour down on me. When the lightning temporarily lit up my sky, I would scratch my name into my bridge. It was in shambles but it was my home. No one could take it away from me nor could they save me from the hell I was in. They were safe under their shelter on the other side. I couldn’t get to mine.

But I now stand here with new pieces & tools. I know it will take time to restore but, for the first time, I’m fixing my bridge for good. I will reach that other side. I still have days when the storm comes & I’m paralyzed under its weight. But I will get back up. I will make it.