March 19. It’s just a day, really. A box on a calendar. 24 hours. 1,440 minutes. One sunrise, one sunset. Or, if you are me, it is the day the world came crashing down around you. The day that took the ground from beneath my feet and flung me onto my face. And then, left me there. For a while.
I am proud of the person I have become. I am no longer ashamed of my past or my lack of say so in it. I am successful not because of it, but in spite of it. Amongst this darkness, I found my own light. But, every March 19, I cry and some other days too for no apparent reason. Some days I wake up ready to conquer the world. Sometimes I wake up with the weight of the world on my back. I have learned to accept this. I have learned this is ok. I have learned that overcoming is rising from the ashes. And rise, I have.
When I walk into a room now, you do not see the past I have overcome, just the person I have become. I am not a victim to anyone, and I like it that way. Nothing will ever be erased. But, it will fade. And I need this so I can just be Amy, and not that girl that this happened too.
Struggle comes in many shapes and forms. The choice to overcome it, it is our own. That is the purpose of all of this. It is my hope that somewhere along the way, someone might read this story and know that it is ok to fall apart, as long as we learn to pick up our own pieces. It is my hope that someone might realize that she is not alone. That there are way too many of us out there. It is my hope that someone might realize that what happened to her, does not define her. That she might realize that the darkness does fade, every passing day, except on today. I hope she knows that it is ok to have March 19’s. That we do not ALWAYS have to keep it together, and that this does not mean we are still broken. And I hope maybe my story will show someone that there are plenty of flowers in the garden that bloom from within the shadows.
In her eyes you could see a past
full of broken promises and fear.
She hid the truth inside her.
A secret world filled with things
we know nothing about.
Where time does not exist
and moments play
over and over and over again,
or, not at all.
But deep in her mind
lived a single day
that she revisited now and then.
And occasionally a single tear
struck her cheek
and in its reflection
you could see all her scars.
Love you! ❤️