All the Pieces of Me

My Innermost Voice

As I sit here in the dark and quiet, I reflect on my deepest thoughts and feelings. I used to know who I was. I used to know where I was going, and if not exactly how I was going to get there…I had an idea of how I might go about getting to where I wanted to be. I can’t say that now and the idea that I don’t know what tomorrow holds for me is practically paralyzing. I reach for help, I ask for guidance and all I receive are more questions. Questions I’m not prepared to answer.

I think of an incredibly beautiful woman I once met. The one with the long hair and contagious smile. I think of who she was and who she is now. A hollow shell is all that remains of what I once knew. Her dreams are gone for she only lives for him. She only breathes for him. She had so much promise and was full of life. That woman I met is no longer there. I mourn her loss for her mother and for her children. The children who stand witness to the destruction their mother continues to sustain. The day I met her, she didn’t know this was where she would end up. I still hope and pray that her story has a different ending than the one we’ve seen written in the headlines way too many times.

A Fork in the Road

Metaphorically speaking, I feel like I’m standing in the middle of the woods staring at a nicely paved road that goes somewhere familiar. I’ve been on that road, I know I could easily cut straight to it and I know where it would take me. I know how long I’d be on it, how I’d feel while I was cruising down it, and I know what’s at the end of it. That’s the easy path. The tempting path. A part of me wants to “go back” to that.

The bigger part of me knows that if I “go back,” then I won’t “go forward.” The problem is, I don’t know what’s forward. The path isn’t cut, I’m doing that myself and I’m tired of chopping down trees and clearing brush. I’m worried, I’m scared and heaven knows I’m afraid of what I don’t know.  It’s true, what they say – a hell you know is better than the hell you don’t. I don’t know who said it but it came to me today and I know I’ve heard it before. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying my life is hell. I’m merely saying that where I’m standing right now, isn’t fun. I get it now. I get why people stay in school F-O-R-E-V-E-R. I get why people stay in relationships that aren’t good for them. I get why people stay at a job they hate. I get why people do what they know, stay where they’re comfortable…because that’s easier. It’s easier to fight the battle you know – even if you lose it, than to wage a new war. I’m standing at the end of my path. I have to decide what happens now, because there can’t be nothing. I don’t know how to do nothing. I don’t want to do nothing.

I’ve always known more about what I didn’t want, rather than what I did want, but there is one thing I have always done and have always wanted to do…and that is to write. I have boxes and boxes full of notebooks. Notebooks full of stories, lyrics, and poetry. Boxes full of all the pieces of my life. Pieces of my past and remnants of who I used to be. I’ve been a lot of different things in my life and I’m thankful for each phase I’ve grown through, each person I’ve met and learned from, each step I’ve taken and every place I’ve ever been. Without any one of those things, I would be different. Without each lesson, without each stumble, without all of those pieces, I wouldn’t be me.

So, here we are. I want to be a writer. Over the last two years in school, with every paper written, every essay created, and every story brought to life, my best friend has been my constant cheerleader; yammering in my ear about what I was meant to do and where I should be devoting my time. I have ideas that should be shared, words that should be read, and thoughts that should be heard.

The Road Less Traveled

Years ago, an old school mate told me something that has stayed with me. He told me that what he’d always admired about me was that I always took the road less traveled. The road that looked too hard for others to climb seemed to be no match for me. He said it was like I could see something no one else could see and that despite the path being more difficult, I charged ahead anyway. He spoke of a younger version of myself long gone, but that desire to take the road less traveled is still strong and for me it has always been the right choice.

It’s time for me to walk down the road I’ve always wanted to. Time for me to explore the unknown and see just what I’m capable of.

I am truly a wayward woman at heart and the fact that I have a way with words is why I’m finally ready to share the best piece of myself. I am The WayWord Woman to the core.

Finally, I have a direction to wander toward.


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