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Secure, insecure

I am a bold 21st century woman. I look in the mirror and I see strength and confidence and beauty in every line, every curve, every inch of my body. I know my worth, my power. I am comfortable in my sexuality and in my body. A fierce leopard aware and ready. I don’t sit back and let things happen, I take charge. I see what I want and I go for it - I make the first move. Not your timid hellos or empty flattery - a challenge. Come talk with me, I said. Let’s see if our weird matches, I teased. Challenge accepted! Bold, confident I show you me. I tell you what I want and you deliver. When I think about you, as I run my fingers over the memories of our last night together, a smile plays at my lips at the thought of your hands on my body. Your teeth. Your fingers. Sigh... the decadent silky feel of the blanket we cuddle under after. Seeing you fills me with happiness and pleasure. But still, I wonder. I wonder if you can see beneath the surface yet and what will happe
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Don't Tell Me I'm Beautiful

“You are so beautiful” he whispered in my ear as he slid his fingers into my swimsuit and into my vagina. As he squeezed my chest where breasts had not even thought of forming on my 10 year old body yet. As he shoved himself inside me until he had satisfied himself. When he assured me through my tears that it was normal. He said beautiful girls, good girls don’t tell when they’ve had sex.  I was a beautiful, good girl - wasn’t I? But I did say something. I was 10 the first time anyone asked me what I was wearing. When I was told not to flaunt myself if I didn’t want men to take advantage. That it was my fault. That it was shameful for me to have enticed the attack with my prepubescent body. That I was ugly and that everyone would know I’d been touched. —— “You are so beautiful” he said as he clumsily fondled my newly developed breasts. I was 13 and grown up. he told me he loved me and I believed him. I believed him when he said I was pretty.  It was quick and clumsy
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Are you okay?

I hear this a lot lately. From friends and family members, people far away. Are you okay? Do you really want the answer? Could you do anything if I told the truth? Are you okay? I’m going to lie to you. I don’t want you to worry and I don’t want to add my stress to yours. I’m going to tell you “of course I’m okay” and force a smile and pretend for a little while that it’s the truth. Because in reality, I’m not okay. Not by a long shot. It’s like I’m dying from a thousand cuts. Finances are a mess. I’m so stressed I can’t eat. I work but I know it’s substandard, because I can’t focus. I can’t breathe properly, trying to breathe through a straw because my chest is so tight from panic. I want to run, but I can’t. I want to withdraw into myself and hide but I can’t. I’m losing at this game of life, drowning and I don’t know if I even want to surface again.
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Once I Was A King

“Once I was a King” I say to the somber young man standing by my bed. I remember that much. Once I was a king. I had a queen, a lovely woman with joyful eyes and mischief in her smile. Her hair was red as a sunset, eyes dark as the fresh turned earth, fair skin dotted lightly where the sun kissed her cheeks.  Once I was a king. I had a daughter with the look of her mother but eyes like the summer sky, hair pale as straw. I remember she had a way about her, an intelligence coupled with sharp humor and a quick wit. I was a father. I was a husband. I was a king.  Once I was a king. When foreign folk sacked villages and killed my people, I went with men bearing my standard to bring peace and order to the land once again by driving out the threat.  Once I was a king. They came again, these foreign men with strange clothing and even stranger talk. They spoke of things not of my land. They didn’t belong. I went yet again to drive them out.  My wife. She cautioned me not to go.
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Spinning into nothing

Hi. I’m here again. Sliding down into the black hole, walls too smooth to grasp. Why? Because no matter what I do, I feel like I am falling from the moon to earth without a parachute. And I’m scared and out of control and can’t stop. I’m trying. I keep trying. And I keep failing. Like I can only hold on to one monkey bar and the second I reach for the next one, the first one is too slick to hold on to but that second one is now too far away and I fall. And things get weird and then everyone walks away and I’m alone and still falling. Is there anything I can do to get control again? That’s all I need. Control. I haven’t felt in control of my own life for a long time. Like my life is some game being played by a chimp on speed. How do I get control again! I need a solution because the ground is coming up fast and I still don’t have a parachute or anything to grab on to so I can slow down. Maybe I can close my eyes and pretend everything is ok? Maybe I can pretend that peo
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I see you

To the homeless veteran who came back from the battle physically Yet can't escape because the battle came back with him mentally I see you. To the young mother struggling to make ends meet Not sure how she will make it until the end of the month with extra mouths to feed I see you To the woman who is terrified to be alone Because she’s seen what happens when a woman takes a long way home I see you To the child who does everything not to leave Because home is where the monsters live I see you To the one trying so desperately not to feel Or praying what they see isn’t real Who fights with demons no one can see Who struggles to pretend to live normally I see you To the couple mourning an unseen death Because the longed-for child never came close to drawing breath I see you To the one who feels so overwhelmed and broken They start to see ending it all as the only option I see you To the bullied child just trying to Get through school I see you To the person so
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What's it Like?

What's it like to be me? To be at constant war with your own brain? Well, in short - it's hell. Spending my formative years fighting for my life, literally, left me with some deep trust issues and a fun friend called PTSD. She comes out at the worst times possible - when I feel like someone is abandoning me. When I feel intimidated. When someone is yelling at me. When people are fighting around me. I learned to control some of it. I'm great in an emergency - fire, car accident, violence...  I'm ice cold and calm, during the event at least. Why? Because I don't give myself permission to panic until I am safe. This didn't pan out well for me after I was raped while serving in the military. I was too calm after, too collected. I didn't act like they expected me to because, in my mind, I wasn't safe yet. I had to stay calm and strong until the danger passed. The end result? I lost my military career because I was too calm. If only they could have s
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