My Pieces

These are my pieces, but they are not my whole. I am more than this flesh and blood. My skin does not portray who or what lies inside of me. My expressions don’t necessarily show how I really feel, and my eyes don’t allow you to see how hurt my soul is.

I am no longer an object of someone else’s will. I am not a prisoner of my mind or body. While a simple smell, touch or sight may trigger a memory, I no longer allow my senses to control me. I seek affection from the ones I love and now feel comfort in their embrace where before I felt shame and fear.

While all of these pieces built together may seem disjointed, they are the me I was always meant to be; the me I deserve to be. I am a collage of many pieces. Separately, the picture alone has no meaning or significant worth, but together it forms a beautiful representation of something better than its original piece.

The puzzle is finally finished. It took a long time – years in the making. It is an exact image of who I am and all that I aspire to be. A survivor, a daughter, a wife, a daughter in law, a sister, a granddaughter, a niece, a mother, a teacher, a romantic, and a bleeding heart. I am the me I was meant to be.

The picture of my past will always be the same. The difference now lies in how I view myself and my future.

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