u/timer18

For the longest time, there was a ache in my heart. An ache that grew with each season, each rising of the sun. An ache that hid deep inside my body and just wanted to be set free.

For the longest time, i felt this ache is a disease. A mental illness that claims my dreams and assaults my sight. I wanted it to go away, I wanted to bury it deeper that it may never resurface.

For the longest time, this ache kept bringing back memories, images, visions, of loved ones i lost, of situations I failed, of people making fun of me, of my family ignoring what I needed so badly.

And I hated it. I loathed it with all my heart. I blamed it for all I lost, I shamed it for not being good enough, I pushed it away into the void of my heart and that just fed the ache, making it ring louder, increasing its pressure on me, its desire to be free.

And one day, it burst through. It found a voice of its own, and when dust settled, a young child cry could be heard. The child... was me. And then i looked, truly looked. A shivering, sobbing little one cradled in the fetal position begging for someone to stay.

I chose to stay, I chose to console the child, I chose to remove the blame, the shame I had set in its heart, I chose to hold him against me, to make him a part of me, to allow him to breathe, to allow him to be free.

And when I did, my old life disappeared never to return. I had faith in my intuition, I had confidence in my opinions, I had courage to protect myself from those who would hurt me, even as I cried while pushing them away. I had pride in myself, I had beauty in my fingertips, I had sparks in my eyes and praise on my lips. For the first time in 30 years, I looked at my image in the mirror and i didn't look down, didnt look away. I stared at it and said what I never had the courage to do : "I am so proud of who you are, you had such strength, such devotion, such courage. You deserve every bit of happiness you have now"

You can too. If you just let yourself...go.

Every time you felt comfortable with loneliness, with quiet, with silence, when you know what you crave is to talk, to feel side by side with someone who stays but noone was willing.

You deserved better.

Every time you reached into your heart, poured out the beauty of it for the world to see, for the world to gasp in awe at the unflinching loyalty, the utmost devotion, the unfathomable levels of depths that exists within your heart. Only for them to spit, to ridicule, to lessen your strength, your courage.

You deserved better.

Every time you were in pain, so much pain it grabbed you by the throat and demanded to be expressed, to be seen, to have a right to exist. And you let it, through your words, your hands, your canvas, your needles and out came wonderful pieces of art made not from your mind, but from your heart. Only for them to treat it with disregard, weak they called you, said you were wasting your time, that feelings aren't meant to be displayed in this way.

You deserved better.

Every time you reached out to people in real ways. Saying I love you, I need you, my heart is hurting, I need someone to hold me, I want someone to stay. Only for them to laugh, to walk away, to act as if they didnt hear you.

You deserved better.

Every time you lived life to the fullest, letting yourself be who you are, without shame, without blame, without diminishing yourself. And you were asked to become smaller, to be out of sight, to grow up, so you could fit into boxes not meant for you.

You deserved better.

Every time you noticed the lies, pointed out the discrepancies, the dissonance between their words and their body language. And you called it out. Put it in the open for people to see. And they cut you off, threw you out, demanded for you to shut up, asked you to stop and sit quietly.

You deserved better.

I did. You did. We all did. Don't let them, please don't let them put out the candle in your heart. Its warmth is needed, and its beauty reaches in into all of us.

Every time you felt comfortable with loneliness, with quiet, with silence, when you know what you crave is to talk, to feel side by side with someone who stays but noone was willing.

You deserved better.

Every time you reached into your heart, poured out the beauty of it for the world to see, for the world to gasp in awe at the unflinching loyalty, the utmost devotion, the unfathomable levels of depths that exists within your heart. Only for them to spit, to ridicule, to lessen your strength, your courage.

You deserved better.

Every time you were in pain, so much pain it grabbed you by the throat and demanded to be expressed, to be seen, to have a right to exist. And you let it, through your words, your hands, your canvas, your needles and out came wonderful pieces of art made not from your mind, but from your heart. Only for them to treat it with disregard, weak they called you, said you were wasting your time, that feelings aren't meant to be displayed in this way.

You deserved better.

Every time you reached out to people in real ways. Saying I love you, I need you, my heart is hurting, I need someone to hold me, I want someone to stay. Only for them to laugh, to walk away, to act as if they didnt hear you.

You deserved better.

Every time you lived life to the fullest, letting yourself be who you are, without shame, without blame, without diminishing yourself. And you were asked to become smaller, to be out of sight, to grow up, so you could fit into boxes not meant for you.

You deserved better.

Every time you noticed the lies, pointed out the discrepancies, the dissonance between their words and their body language. And you called it out. Put it in the open for people to see. And they cut you off, threw you out, demanded for you to shut up, asked you to stop and sit quietly.

You deserved better.

I did. You did. We all did. Don't let them, please don't let them put out the candle in your heart. Its warmth is needed, and its beauty reaches in into all of us.

Every time you felt comfortable with loneliness, with quiet, with silence, when you know what you crave is to talk, to feel side by side with someone who stays but noone was willing.

You deserved better.

Every time you reached into your heart, poured out the beauty of it for the world to see, for the world to gasp in awe at the unflinching loyalty, the utmost devotion, the unfathomable levels of depths that exists within your heart. Only for them to spit, to ridicule, to lessen your strength, your courage.

You deserved better.

Every time you were in pain, so much pain it grabbed you by the throat and demanded to be expressed, to be seen, to have a right to exist. And you let it, through your words, your hands, your canvas, your needles and out came wonderful pieces of art made not from your mind, but from your heart. Only for them to treat it with disregard, weak they called you, said you were wasting your time, that feelings aren't meant to be displayed in this way.

You deserved better.

Every time you reached out to people in real ways. Saying I love you, I need you, my heart is hurting, I need someone to hold me, I want someone to stay. Only for them to laugh, to walk away, to act as if they didnt hear you.

You deserved better.

Every time you lived life to the fullest, letting yourself be who you are, without shame, without blame, without diminishing yourself. And you were asked to become smaller, to be out of sight, to grow up, so you could fit into boxes not meant for you.

You deserved better.

Every time you noticed the lies, pointed out the discrepancies, the dissonance between their words and their body language. And you called it out. Put it in the open for people to see. And they cut you off, threw you out, demanded for you to shut up, asked you to stop and sit quietly.

You deserved better.

I did. You did. We all did. Don't let them, please don't let them put out the candle in your heart. Its warmth is needed, and its beauty reaches in into all of us.

I close my eyes and I remember

Screaming, throwing, threatening

Her belt hit me, my heart was tender

I beg for mercy, yet it keeps on coming

Tears fall from my eyes freely

My hands clutching my pillow

I never hit, I always lived gently

Mom filled my heart with sorrow

I cared so deeply, about everything

I wanted a home, I want a mother

I touched the moon in the sky, sobbing

I loved without fail, without bother

I wrote poems about nature, about beauty

I begged for help, I wanted people to stay

Because I mattered, because of what I say

I felt all because it was me, it was a tragedy

I never held back, never questioned

My heart was unable to be smaller

So they called me names, lessened

To fit into boxes, to present better

And now, I asked for love, for evidence

I put a wall and said to them, show me

They shamed, blamed, their words cut me

I waited patiently, all I saw was no conscience

All because I said no my life has value

All because I was strong, I was now a traitor

I wanted love, I wanted embrace, I lived for you

And now its gone, I dared to oppose the dictator

They pushed me out, said we dont need you

Left me to die on the side of the road, damn you

I was right all along, I did not want to be

I was right all along, I did not have a family

I wanted more, so I made it for myself

My little treasure, my island lost in the sea

I have courage, I have strength, in my self

The sun rises again, and I drink my tea

I lost everything, and I got it all back

Stronger, more real, safe from attack

And that means the world, always has.

I close my eyes and I remember

Screaming, throwing, threatening

Her belt hit me, my heart was tender

I beg for mercy, yet it keeps on coming

Tears fall from my eyes freely

My hands clutching my pillow

I never hit, I always lived gently

Mom filled my heart with sorrow

I cared so deeply, about everything

I wanted a home, I want a mother

I touched the moon in the sky, sobbing

I loved without fail, without bother

I wrote poems about nature, about beauty

I begged for help, I wanted people to stay

Because I mattered, because of what I say

I felt all because it was me, it was a tragedy

I never held back, never questioned

My heart was unable to be smaller

So they called me names, lessened

To fit into boxes, to present better

And now, I asked for love, for evidence

I put a wall and said to them, show me

They shamed, blamed, their words cut me

I waited patiently, all I saw was no conscience

All because I said no my life has value

All because I was strong, I was now a traitor

I wanted love, I wanted embrace, I lived for you

And now its gone, I dared to oppose the dictator

They pushed me out, said we dont need you

Left me to die on the side of the road, damn you

I was right all along, I did not want to be

I was right all along, I did not have a family

I wanted more, so I made it for myself

My little treasure, my island lost in the sea

I have courage, I have strength, in my self

The sun rises again, and I drink my tea

I lost everything, and I got it all back

Stronger, more real, safe from attack

And that means the world, always has.

She messages me in anger, in frustration. She says she is sad, she says she misses me, that I am vital in her life.

And yet... you look at the words ans especially how she calls me and it tells you all you need to know.

Son, thats what she calls me. No kindness, no gentleness, no affection. My role is my name. The concepts sound good but the execution is horrid. The words say love, miss, need but the surroundings, the tone, the energy, the absence of vulnerability tells the true story.

I dont fucking deserve to be "her" son, just a son, a son that she calls sick and that she prays for him to heal. And the recovery better be fucking quick or else...

I dont fucking deserve the bare fucking minimum of being her dear boy, her sunshine, her eldest boy, her child even..

I dont even fucking deserve to be called by the name i was born with, the name SHE gave me. The name she chose for me, thought fitted me best. But wont call me by that name when she asks for me to break my boundary and return to her side

Even motherfucking God called us the sinners, the murderers, the corrupts, the poor, the misguided, we were all his sons in his image. And she wants to hold the name of mother.

Well you know what, mother? You dont deserve that privilege, you dont deserve to be my mother. I gave you so many chances and every time you chose the route to leave me without your affection that I need so badly. Without the love that would make my life complete. It shattered my heart in pieces, but I wont let you talk to me in this way, not anymore. I have strength, I have value, I have courage.

So no, my name isn’t Son and your name isn't Mother.

I used to think it was so sad how I was forced to shave my head... and now... every breeze, every ray of sunlight, every drop of rain, every snowflake electrifies my body all over down to my fingertip. I can feel the current travelling in my arm and as I reach out to the sky, i feel it travelling back to my heart drowning me in utmost happiness.

I touch my daughter hair... and i feel it all over me her warmth, her softness, the way her hand tightens around my finger, the way her tummy perks up when she breathes, I feel waves of contentment hit me swallowing me whole forcing me to rest my head against her. I inhale the scent in her head and im home, home where I matter, home where I am missed, home where I can just be. She looks at me with the brightest smile and says : "Papa" and I reply as tears flow freely from my face "yes it's me, I love you so much". And she loves it. She does it again, and again, and again. And I reply, every single time, without fail, with the same response. I can feel her stress vanishing, her happiness growing, her arms reaching out.

I set out to cook. I hate it. I always hated it. Takes too damn long. But I close my eyes and feel the meat kneaded between my hands, shifting as I press, as I pour my heart into it, imbue it with my emotions, my love as I cover it from head to toe in spices my family fancies. I imagine the smile of my son, his little chewing sounds of happiness as he eats it, his cry of loyalty from across the room as he states for the world to hear that he loves it. And as I do, I inhale the scent of spices. And i travel. Im no longer standing in my kitchen im in my grandma kitchen where we plucked chickens by hand, in my grandpa attic where we stuffed sausages and hanged them to dry, in my childhood home backyard where my uncles cooked curries in giant saucepans. It's no longer a chore, it's a connection, a ritual, a link to the best moments of my past.

I sit on the couch and sip on my tea. I feel the warmth spread out throughout my body all the way to my extremities. I check mark the moment in my mind. And flashes bear out. That one time where i drank tea and lost track of time fell asleep on the couch, that one time where i was a dumbass and spilled scalding tea on my hand, these infusions that smelled amazing i used to drink with my dad as we watched nature documentaries together.

I dance with my little one. I feel the music move through me, i hear my steps on the floorboards of my living room as I swing her around and she keeps asking for more... i feel the rh ythm in my bones and I just let it carry me,, like the world doesnt exist, like my worries have disappeared. Just her, just us. Here, now, and I dont want to be anywhere else. And I dont want to be anybody else. For the first time in my life, I look at myself in the mirror and say I am glad you are HSP, I am glad you are here, you have a gift, use it... make the world better. Feel.

I run my hands through the sand. This soft, gentle, fine sand that feels warm to the touch. This sand that came from hard, unyielding, firm rocks and slowly grinded over months, years. This same sand that we then heat up and turn into glass. That we blow into, shape, cut, rub into windows, lenses, glasses, into tinted pieces that we then turn into art. Our world makes no sense without it, a window into the beautiful, a gazing into the real using the rocks that inhabit our world. We live inside of it and it lives inside of us.

I lean back on my chair on the sweet delicious night and my arm outstretches across the sky attempting to grasp the beautiful little white dots that spread out across it. Giant balls of fire, gods we called them, we gave them human faces, we gave animal faces, we described their rotation as it caressed our surface with its gentle rays as a fight, an endless struggle between good and evil, as a stance between the death of night and the birth of life. It is so massive, our blue marble fights with all its strength to survive one more day, one more moment in its presence, in its warmth, in its light. If not, only darkness and silence remains. As it holds and caress with one hand, it also aims to destroy, to purge, to exterminate relentlessly, involuntarily, anything that stands in its way and isnt ready for it. It blasts eruptions into space scorching surfaces, blasting planets without their consent, vaporizing oceans, eating atmospheres, blasting radiation without warning poisoning everything in sight. And we fight back, as the blasts echoes across our surface we watch the resulting green strips of light across the sky and gaze at the beauty.

I look into my telescope, I stare into the emptiness, cold of space. This is where we originate... perhaps an icy rock from the kuiper belt, perhaps a piece of mars that collided with us. It matters not. Every single one of us. Every microbe, every insect, every jellyfish, every human originated from... out there... out from the cruel void of space. And we found home perhaps by chance, perhaps by circumstances, we evolved... slowly... survived the world catastrophes, to be here today. What a beautiful thought to be here, now, every one of us a testament to our resilience, to our refusal to let it end.

I lay my body across the grass and I feel her... i feel her heart beating beneath my feet, in the warmth of the soil, the gentle grazing of the grass she allowed to grow, to thrive for us, for all of us. As i walk bare foot in the soil, in the roots of the tr⁰ees, i feel her voice reach into my heart and guide me step by step, piece by piece. She is our mother and we are her children. We ve hurt her, cut her, made holes in her, took her for granted, and she continues shielding us, keeping us safe where everything wants us dead.

I want to say thank you mother for giving us such a chance to be alive now... maybe not forever, maybe just for a little while. For us to see, feel, taste, smell this beautiful little alcove that we needed. A beautiful world... just for me, just for you, just for all of us.

I run my hands through the sand. This soft, gentle, fine sand that feels warm to the touch. This sand that came from hard, unyielding, firm rocks and slowly grinded over months, years. This same sand that we then heat up and turn into glass. That we blow into, shape, cut, rub into windows, lenses, glasses, into tinted pieces that we then turn into art. Our world makes no sense without it, a window into the beautiful, a gazing into the real using the rocks that inhabit our world. We live inside of it and it lives inside of us.

I lean back on my chair on the sweet delicious night and my arm outstretches across the sky attempting to grasp the beautiful little white dots that spread out across it. Giant balls of fire, gods we called them, we gave them human faces, we gave animal faces, we described their rotation as it caressed our surface with its gentle rays as a fight, an endless struggle between good and evil, as a stance between the death of night and the birth of life. It is so massive, our blue marble fights with all its strength to survive one more day, one more moment in its presence, in its warmth, in its light. If not, only darkness and silence remains. As it holds and caress with one hand, it also aims to destroy, to purge, to exterminate relentlessly, involuntarily, anything that stands in its way and isnt ready for it. It blasts eruptions into space scorching surfaces, blasting planets without their consent, vaporizing oceans, eating atmospheres, blasting radiation without warning poisoning everything in sight. And we fight back, as the blasts echoes across our surface we watch the resulting green strips of light across the sky and gaze at the beauty.

I look into my telescope, I stare into the emptiness, cold of space. This is where we originate... perhaps an icy rock from the kuiper belt, perhaps a piece of mars that collided with us. It matters not. Every single one of us. Every microbe, every insect, every jellyfish, every human originated from... out there... out from the cruel void of space. And we found home perhaps by chance, perhaps by circumstances, we evolved... slowly... survived the world catastrophes, to be here today. What a beautiful thought to be here, now, every one of us a testament to our resilience, to our refusal to let it end.

I lay my body across the grass and I feel her... i feel her heart beating beneath my feet, in the warmth of the soil, the gentle grazing of the grass she allowed to grow, to thrive for us, for all of us. As i walk bare foot in the soil, in the roots of the tr⁰ees, i feel her voice reach into my heart and guide me step by step, piece by piece. She is our mother and we are her children. We ve hurt her, cut her, made holes in her, took her for granted, and she continues shielding us, keeping us safe where everything wants us dead.

I want to say thank you mother for giving us such a chance to be alive now... maybe not forever, maybe just for a little while. For us to see, feel, taste, smell this beautiful little alcove that we needed. A beautiful world... just for me, just for you, just for all of us.

I run my hands through the sand. This soft, gentle, fine sand that feels warm to the touch. This sand that came from hard, unyielding, firm rocks and slowly grinded over months, years. This same sand that we then heat up and turn into glass. That we blow into, shape, cut, rub into windows, lenses, glasses, into tinted pieces that we then turn into art. Our world makes no sense without it, a window into the beautiful, a gazing into the real using the rocks that inhabit our world. We live inside of it and it lives inside of us.

I lean back on my chair on the sweet delicious night and my arm outstretches across the sky attempting to grasp the beautiful little white dots that spread out across it. Giant balls of fire, gods we called them, we gave them human faces, we gave animal faces, we described their rotation as it caressed our surface with its gentle rays as a fight, an endless struggle between good and evil, as a stance between the death of night and the birth of life. It is so massive, our blue marble fights with all its strength to survive one more day, one more moment in its presence, in its warmth, in its light. If not, only darkness and silence remains. As it holds and caress with one hand, it also aims to destroy, to purge, to exterminate relentlessly, involuntarily, anything that stands in its way and isnt ready for it. It blasts eruptions into space scorching surfaces, blasting planets without their consent, vaporizing oceans, eating atmospheres, blasting radiation without warning poisoning everything in sight. And we fight back, as the blasts echoes across our surface we watch the resulting green strips of light across the sky and gaze at the beauty.

I look into my telescope, I stare into the emptiness, cold of space. This is where we originate... perhaps an icy rock from the kuiper belt, perhaps a piece of mars that collided with us. It matters not. Every single one of us. Every microbe, every insect, every jellyfish, every human originated from... out there... out from the cruel void of space. And we found home perhaps by chance, perhaps by circumstances, we evolved... slowly... survived the world catastrophes, to be here today. What a beautiful thought to be here, now, every one of us a testament to our resilience, to our refusal to let it end.

I lay my body across the grass and I feel her... i feel her heart beating beneath my feet, in the warmth of the soil, the gentle grazing of the grass she allowed to grow, to thrive for us, for all of us. As i walk bare foot in the soil, in the roots of the tr⁰ees, i feel her voice reach into my heart and guide me step by step, piece by piece. She is our mother and we are her children. We ve hurt her, cut her, made holes in her, took her for granted, and she continues shielding us, keeping us safe where everything wants us dead.

I want to say thank you mother for giving us such a chance to be alive now... maybe not forever, maybe just for a little while. For us to see, feel, taste, smell this beautiful little alcove that we needed. A beautiful world... just for me, just for you, just for all of us.

​

The wind howled across the dunes, the sand swallowed all trace of life, piling up in mounds ever inching forward, inextricably, irrevocably. As the sand flew through the air threatening all with its whistling, with its aggressive circles, a crevice formed in its breast shielded from the storm by protective walls of firm unyielding sand. A seed, a vulnerable seed, so fragile, so frail, guarded by sheer chance. Days passed, then nights, weeks and a sprout erupted... It just was, it stood out in this sea of nothingness, the wind redoubled its efforts, the sand letting itself be carried, assaulting it with all its strength, bending it through violent gusts, it never stopped, it continued, it scarred the poor sprout. It let itself be bent, again and again, it welcomed the sharp cuts of the sand, it embraced the violent attacks of the wind as what it was. Natural. This place was no place for a sprout, it had no future, it had no place to hold it. And yet, as the weeks passed, the sprout continued to grow its body scarred, a testament to its strength, its resilence to live. The gusts and cuts only growing stronger with each passing day. The cuts healed making it more resilient, it didnt fight the wind, it kept letting itself be bent almost until its head touched the feeble sand below. To the horror of this place, the little sprout has grown tall. Tall enough to now bloom, the sand tried to swallow it whole, the wind tried to break it. And as their futile attempts landed right back into nothingness, the most beautiful, the most gentle black rose emerged from the sprout. Here. In this place, where no water reached, where the sand bloated out the sun, where no animal lived. And now... a gentle ray of light touched its petals and new sprouts emerged... the desert rose spread out its sharp leaves over them, covering them completely. And it continues, continues to bend under the wind, but this time, this time the sprouts will grow unharmed.

​

The wind howled across the dunes, the sand swallowed all trace of life, piling up in mounds ever inching forward, inextricably, irrevocably. As the sand flew through the air threatening all with its whistling, with its aggressive circles, a crevice formed in its breast shielded from the storm by protective walls of firm unyielding sand. A seed, a vulnerable seed, so fragile, so frail, guarded by sheer chance. Days passed, then nights, weeks and a sprout erupted... It just was, it stood out in this sea of nothingness, the wind redoubled its efforts, the sand letting itself be carried, assaulting it with all its strength, bending it through violent gusts, it never stopped, it continued, it scarred the poor sprout. It let itself be bent, again and again, it welcomed the sharp cuts of the sand, it embraced the violent attacks of the wind as what it was. Natural. This place was no place for a sprout, it had no future, it had no place to hold it. And yet, as the weeks passed, the sprout continued to grow its body scarred, a testament to its strength, its resilence to live. The gusts and cuts only growing stronger with each passing day. The cuts healed making it more resilient, it didnt fight the wind, it kept letting itself be bent almost until its head touched the feeble sand below. To the horror of this place, the little sprout has grown tall. Tall enough to now bloom, the sand tried to swallow it whole, the wind tried to break it. And as their futile attempts landed right back into nothingness, the most beautiful, the most gentle black rose emerged from the sprout. Here. In this place, where no water reached, where the sand bloated out the sun, where no animal lived. And now... a gentle ray of light touched its petals and new sprouts emerged... the desert rose spread out its sharp leaves over them, covering them completely. And it continues, continues to bend under the wind, but this time, this time the sprouts will grow unharmed.

​

The wind howled across the dunes, the sand swallowed all trace of life, piling up in mounds ever inching forward, inextricably, irrevocably. As the sand flew through the air threatening all with its whistling, with its aggressive circles, a crevice formed in its breast shielded from the storm by protective walls of firm unyielding sand. A seed, a vulnerable seed, so fragile, so frail, guarded by sheer chance. Days passed, then nights, weeks and a sprout erupted... It just was, it stood out in this sea of nothingness, the wind redoubled its efforts, the sand letting itself be carried, assaulting it with all its strength, bending it through violent gusts, it never stopped, it continued, it scarred the poor sprout. It let itself be bent, again and again, it welcomed the sharp cuts of the sand, it embraced the violent attacks of the wind as what it was. Natural. This place was no place for a sprout, it had no future, it had no place to hold it. And yet, as the weeks passed, the sprout continued to grow its body scarred, a testament to its strength, its resilence to live. The gusts and cuts only growing stronger with each passing day. The cuts healed making it more resilient, it didnt fight the wind, it kept letting itself be bent almost until its head touched the feeble sand below. To the horror of this place, the little sprout has grown tall. Tall enough to now bloom, the sand tried to swallow it whole, the wind tried to break it. And as their futile attempts landed right back into nothingness, the most beautiful, the most gentle black rose emerged from the sprout. Here. In this place, where no water reached, where the sand bloated out the sun, where no animal lived. And now... a gentle ray of light touched its petals and new sprouts emerged... the desert rose spread out its sharp leaves over them, covering them completely. And it continues, continues to bend under the wind, but this time, this time the sprouts will grow unharmed.

The wind howled across the dunes, the sand swallowed all trace of life, piling up in mounds ever inching forward, inextricably, irrevocably. As the sand flew through the air threatening all with its whistling, with its aggressive circles, a crevice formed in its breast shielded from the storm by protective walls of firm unyielding sand. A seed, a vulnerable seed, so fragile, so frail, guarded by sheer chance. Days passed, then nights, weeks and a sprout erupted... It just was, it stood out in this sea of nothingness, the wind redoubled its efforts, the sand letting itself be carried, assaulting it with all its strength, bending it through violent gusts, it never stopped, it continued, it scarred the poor sprout. It let itself be bent, again and again, it welcomed the sharp cuts of the sand, it embraced the violent attacks of the wind as what it was. Natural. This place was no place for a sprout, it had no future, it had no place to hold it. And yet, as the weeks passed, the sprout continued to grow its body scarred, a testament to its strength, its resilence to live. The gusts and cuts only growing stronger with each passing day. The cuts healed making it more resilient, it didnt fight the wind, it kept letting itself be bent almost until its head touched the feeble sand below. To the horror of this place, the little sprout has grown tall. Tall enough to now bloom, the sand tried to swallow it whole, the wind tried to break it. And as their futile attempts landed right back into nothingness, the most beautiful, the most gentle black rose emerged from the sprout. Here. In this place, where no water reached, where the sand bloated out the sun, where no animal lived. And now... a gentle ray of light touched its petals and new sprouts emerged... the desert rose spread out its sharp leaves over them, covering them completely. And it continues, continues to bend under the wind, but this time, this time the sprouts will grow unharmed.

You had me when I felt you breath against mine, when I felt your hand reach for mine while you could not even see yet, when I felt your breathing slow down to adjust to the beatings of my heart.

My little boy... you have such a fierce personality, such a warm tender heart. I did not give you my name to put you in chains, to mark you like cattle. I did it to integrate a part of me, a piece of who I am inside you so you never have to feel alone.

You are not me. You are not mommy. You are you. You are your own beautiful self, you will make choices, you will make mistakes. Daddy will not stop you, Daddy will catch you, hold you if it hurts, if you fall, if it becomes too hard. So please, my son, please dont let them take away who you are, dont let them shame what you are, what you feel. You love so big, run so fast, scream so loud, snore noisily, eat messily. But Daddy does too. And he has never stopped loving you. And never will, my little boy, even after my heart stops beating, I know that my echo, my strength, my passion will continue to burn brightly inside you. And that, my son, means the world to me.

You had me when I felt your breath against mine, when I felt your hand reach for mine while you could not even see yet, when I felt your breathing slow down to adjust to the beatings of my heart.

My little boy... you have such a fierce personality, such a warm tender heart. I did not give you my name to put you in chains, to mark you like cattle. I did it to integrate a part of me, a piece of who I am inside you so you never have to feel alone.

You are not me. You are not mommy. You are you. You are your own beautiful self, you will make choices, you will make mistakes. Daddy will not stop you, Daddy will catch you, hold you if it hurts, if you fall, if it becomes too hard. So please, my son, please dont let them take away who you are, dont let them shame what you are, what you feel. You love so big, run so fast, scream so loud, snore noisily, eat messily. But Daddy does too. And he has never stopped loving you. And never will, my little boy, even after my heart stops beating, I know that my echo, my strength, my passion will continue to burn brightly inside you. And that, my son, means the world to me. "

You had me when I felt you breath against mine, when I felt your hand reach for mine while you could not even see yet, when I felt your breathing slow down to adjust to the beatings of my heart.

My little boy... you have such a fierce personality, such a warm tender heart. I did not give you my name to put you in chains, to mark you like cattle. I did it to integrate a part of me, a piece of who I am inside you so you never have to feel alone.

You are not me. You are not mommy. You are you. You are your own beautiful self, you will make choices, you will make mistakes. Daddy will not stop you, Daddy will catch you, hold you if it hurts, if you fall, if it becomes too hard. So please, my son, please dont let them take away who you are, dont let them shame what you are, what you feel. You love so big, run so fast, scream so loud, snore noisily, eat messily. But Daddy does too. And he has never stopped loving you. And never will, my little boy, even after my heart stops beating, I know that my echo, my strength, my passion will continue to burn brightly inside you. And that, my son, means the world to me.

I want to let light run through my eyes encasing the world in all of its beauty, I want water droplets caressing my skin like a tender lover, I want the breeze to envelop me and hold me like you would a child, I want to touch the grass with my feet, bare feet, to feel the beating heart of our mother below, I want to look up into the night sky reaching out to it to feel connection to worlds we have not yet seen.

I want to feel, feel so deeply that my heart chokes of happiness, that my tears flow freely. I want to see, see with my own eyes, the hidden secrets in my heart. I want to be, be myself fully with no shame, no reflection, no holding back. I want to laugh so loudly the walls shake. I want to speak unhindered at full volume. I want to be angry so badly that my fists shake. I want to cry so hard that I choke on my own tears.

And I will make it happen. The mirror is broken, the chains have shattered, I am finally who I was meant to be... No longer mother, it is over, I am free... My heart hurts from your lies, but I will endure and live... Live for them, my little ones, my treasure, my everything.

I wanted a different life than I have. I hoped I was wrong, that i was overexaggerating their influence, their words, their distance. I was moved by the stars, I talked to the moon as if she was a dear friend, I was amazed by the simple things of life, the waves going in and out, the lightning striking the ground, the cycles of water, I saw poetry and beauty everywhere. I wanted to feel, feel so deeply unrestricted, unhinged, without self-reflection so I may let all of this beauty enter me and through it, find calm and peace I always sought.

I just needed people to stay, people to love me, to hold me so I could spread my wings and I could touch the sky with my heart. I wanted to fly, ever so higher, I just needed people to ground me, to bring me back so I could... just be. Me, just me and nothing else.

I loved you, mother

I loved you, father

I loved you, sister

I loved you, brother

I loved you, family

I never stopped and I never shall

It is not love you gave. It is not safety you gave. It is not care you gave. I cut myself off from all of you, because I wanted you to prove me wrong. I wanted all of you to prove I mattered, to prove it made a difference if I was there, to prove that losing me was hurting you. I wanted all of you to share you own beauty, your own shine, your own heart. But I was right. All along I was right... God how it hurts my heart to see I was right. For the first time, I whispered to the moon, please, please let me ne wrong this time. Please! I dont want to live without them. I dont want to be alone. But my wish was not granted... they fit every box... every story... every picture of my mind...

I became the mom, the father, the brother, the sister I always desired... I didnt deserve this... I didnt deserve to fill my life with versions of myself. I deserved better and today, I still look at the world with the same eyes filled with wonder and beauty, filled with appreciation for everything we do have, for how lucky we all are. I just rest my hand on my heart as tears roll down my cheeks. Not because I was weak but because today, beauty grew out of the darkest places of the world and I will cherish it, I will protect it, I will hold it within me as a witness, a witness that narcissists will take and take. But I will not let them take beauty from me. Not now, not ever.