...to a new way of being, to a peace - carefully managed but peace nonetheless.
I had a conversation with my dad this morning and I feel like I have a new perspective - like I have taken a breath and am ready for the next move.
My father is wise and because he is in the middle of his own self-work right now he speaks in a language I understand - one that resonates with me.
He reminded me that I am worthy even though I am fallible, he spoke so genuinely of my tenderness and wouldn't allow me to suggest for one second that I was somehow unequipped for what I am up against in my life right now.
He broke my cluster down into manageable pieces and laid them out before me one at a time and we talked about my choices...the promise of my life.
He also suggested I write letters to manage the emotions I have recently unlocked as a result of interrupted therapy - emotions surfacing from deep, deep inside of me. Letters to my grandfather and my mother...even him.
The suggestion alone nearly took my breath away because it's been the one task I've never been able to do each and every time a therapist has suggested it...but more so, that it came from him...a man I have clearly underestimated.
What came next unleashed the tears that had been waiting for their freedom - he said not to stop at my grandfather but to also include my mother and he for...failing to protect me.
I stopped breathing and wept into my tissue.
He has never said that and I've been afraid to lay it at their feet though my heart needed an outlet, the feeling needed expression and in that moment, he gave it to me...just like that - WE FAILED TO PROTECT YOU.
My father, my daddy - inspiring in all of his new found self-awareness - held me (so to speak) and held my words, my fears, my insecurities...he held it all just when I thought I might crumble under the weight of a past clinging to my present, wanting to own me but knowing all the while that time is almost up. I am working it out, I am determined to integrate the spans of time in an effort to claim the voice I have been in search of my entire life.
And so I write...not here but in a journal, FINALLY, for the little girl who never had a chance against those hell bent to break her and for those unaware that their oversight implicated them in the attempt at her destruction.
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