When I was little, I once knew,

How to envision life and see it through,

I imagined traveling through the creek,

And pretending it was a powerful river in Mozambique.

Africa, Bimini, New Zealand too,

My travels took me, in my mind, to view,

The expansiveness of my childhood dreams,

To travel the world with the beautiful scenes.

I loved adventure when I was young,

I got to imagine and have so much fun,

And as I grew older, I found I had to be,

Putting that aside to please others, not me.

My father wanted me to do what he loved,

Photography, the military and other things I shrugged,

Off, because somehow, even then, it didn’t feel like me,

But I tried to please him, so I could see;

The proudness of me that I never knew,

Because all he would say was, “Of course, I’m proud of you.”

It never came directly to me, for me to feel it, because he couldn’t,

And for years I please him because he had an allurement,

He was after all, my father, you see,

I loved him dearly, even though he couldn’t see me.

In essence, he was the only parent I trusted, I chose,

To be Daddy’s girl, but that predisposed,

My little heart to making sure, that I would do whatever I could,

To make others happy so they understood.

But they didn’t do that, and I was so angry,

I stuffed it all down and turned into someone, that quite frankly,

Was not who I was, but no one cared then,

At least that’s what it felt like all the times when,

I sat alone and cried and cried,

Because I was different and wanted desperately to find.

All my life, people who just “got” me,

And the older I got, the harder that seemed,

Here I am now, I am telling you this,

Because the life I envisioned, is now amiss.

However, what’s awesome is that even though things come up,

To test me or prove that my lesson has stuck,

I get what is happening, as I sit,

And wait for the next part of life to really shift.

It is ok and I am here,

Things are perfect as they are and the flashbacks aren’t as severe,

I used to dissociate to protect,

Myself from what I thought would always come next,

The bashing, the telling me who I am or should do,

With me always waiting for the drop of the shoe.

It isn’t easy, and sometimes it sucks,

When healing through the trauma, my life having been constantly in flux,

But I tell you now, it is really ok,

I carry the wounds and healings, so they,

Show me how to be more compassionate and loving,

To a world that needs it, no matter how it’s succumbing,

To the challenges going on that are only there,

To show us how to heal, shift and care.

I know it sounds crazy, but this I feel,

The world has so many wounds to heal,

And the only way to do that, is to start with ourselves,

So, the more I heal, the less of this hell.

I have the right to be at peace,

I just get to find a way to increase,

The vision I have to see what is good,

Then when I love myself, I have understood;

What it is I get to be,

To show the world that it too can be free.