The old me was imprisoned and tortured by trauma.
My vision distorted and tainted by past drama.
The old me had to break.
Because while I lived a life that looked perfect from the outside, I was dying on the inside.
What seemed to be every woman’s dream they couldn’t see the tape over my mouth and my hands behind my back tied.
My lips full of yeses while my heart was screaming no.
I had the smile and front so perfect you wouldn’t even know.
I couldn’t look you in your eyes because I was lying to myself.
I couldn’t face the fact that I’ve put my authenticity on the shelf.
My blooms didn’t reach any reacher because my roots couldn’t grow any deeper.
So the old me had to break.
The mold that I contorted into was not made with my own hands.
My belief systems and grief symptoms was constructed by someone else’s programs.
Driven by the pressure of everyone else’s expectations I ran myself into the ground.
I hit rock bottom so hard some pieces of me shattered and still can’t be found.
The old me had to break because my soul yearned for freedom.
See, sometimes you have to turn your demons into allies when you can’t beat ‘em.
I had to destroy the life I spent 37 years building.
I had to be brave and bare the truth that I was shielding.
I convinced my captors to release the shackles from my neck.
Brick by brick I rebuild again a life of my own vision,
but the old me had to break.
~ Shining Light
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Memoirs of a Goddess 