
I easily climb down the crevice of my dark shadow,
where I hide my insecurities and wounds from traumas’ past.
My nightly ritual;
I crumble to the floor,
grab my knees to my chest,
and rock myself to an all familiar humm.
I am safe, I am home.
I wake another day,
brush off my pain,
removes my insecurities,
and drop into the suit the world wants to see.
I pack my lunch of perfectionism
filled with people pleasing
Yes Sirs and yes Ma'ams
and run out the door before daybreak
in fear that somebody might actually see the real me.
You see,
It is the light that scares me.
My hat and sunglasses
hide the broken little girl
cowering behind the shadows
of the hurtful hands and painful words of my family
The family who were supposed to love me,
who were supposed to protect me.
Who were supposed to keep me safe.
My safety quickly became
the unwavering protection of perfectionism,
good girlism
and the ability to hide.
Hiding deep in my shadow of darkness,
where no abuse could find me.
Until it did,
my own abuse.
The neglect to see my light,
my own beauty,
what I had become.
Resilient, powerful, resourceful,
kind, generous and beautiful.
Not the kind of beauty that leaves with time
but the kind that lights up a room with a single smile.
A smile that opens the heart for all to see..
Little girl,
I am sorry I kept you in the dark for so long.
In my need to protect you,
I never let you touch the sun.
I never let you shine.