I feel like I don't know who this woman is staring back at me anymore. There are so many layers underneath, so many scars. Have they distorted who she is? Have those situations that built her, that made her, changed her soul? It's a mystery. And I wonder, what's left? Some might say that what's left is a pushover. Others might say she is too quiet and needs to speak up. I say, she is just tired and done with many things. She refuses to waste energy on things that don't matter. Things that don't make her better. Things that stop her growth.

Childhood and Lost Dreams

But I still wonder, where did her past self go? Where is that little island girl? That loud, happy, wild curls full of sunshine girl. The one who was always barefoot and couldn't wait to grow and learn about the world. She wanted to know it all! She had big dreams. Dreams that shattered at the age of 14. Did she die too?

The Angry Teenager

What about the angry teenager? What happened to her? She, I’m happy to see gone. She was dangerous. Too angry to think of consequences. Too hurt to know better. Looking for something in the wrong places. Lonely, surrounded by tons of people but alone nonetheless.

Young Motherhood

And then came that single young mother. Mother at the age of 20, excited for the new life but oh, terrified to mess it up. She was so ashamed of the angry teenager's mistakes that it took her a while to accept that things happen for a reason. Accept and move on. She grew up quick! Learned to be a mom, a provider, a fighter, a giver.

The Wife and Pretender

Then she became the wife. The wife, now she was no joke. The wife was the real fighter and no one knew. More than a fighter, she was the best at the game of pretend. Pretending life was great, her marriage was amazing, her love for that abuser was the best thing that happened to her. And why did she do it? Because she was a mom. Because she thought that her kids were better off having both parents together. Ha! What a joke! She started to see proof of her mistakes in her younger son's acts of violence. In her daughter’s submissive demeanor. Learned behavior, anybody? That was her wake-up call.

The Divorcee and Warrior

Then she became the divorcee. The warrior, the mama bear, the tired woman you now see. Time after time she has changed, over and over, metamorphosing to whatever life had thrown at her. Like a butterfly growing new wings, new weapons.

Current Self and Reflection

But who is that woman staring back at me in the mirror? Who is she now? She is a survivor. She is resilient. She is a mosaic of all her past selves, each piece contributing to the strength and wisdom she carries today. She is still learning, still growing, still fighting. And maybe, just maybe, she is starting to find peace with who she has become.

A Hopeful Future

And as she looks ahead, she sees a horizon filled with possibilities. She knows that every challenge faced has only made her stronger. She embraces the unknown with courage and hope, ready to write new chapters in her story. She is not defined by her past but empowered by it. The future is hers to shape, and she steps forward with a heart full of dreams and a spirit unbreakable. She is ready to soar.

By: Notesformysoulmate

If you could peer into my heart, you’d see the depth of my feelings for you, the thoughts that swirl around you like a gentle current. But I hold back, fearful that my words might fracture the delicate dance we’ve begun. You’ve awakened sensations in me, dormant since childhood—feelings I doubted I’d ever experience again. It’s this vulnerability, the exposure to your perceptions, that leaves me trembling.

I’m caught in a whirlwind of emotion, questioning whether our hearts beat to the same rhythm or if my confession will send you fleeing. It’s a puzzle, this feeling—erratic, fresh, and utterly bewildering. It makes me question the very essence of love. Is this what it feels like? Is this the elusive emotion poets and dreamers speak of?

The possibility of this feeling morphing or vanishing is what truly terrifies me. My silence could be misconstrued as indifference, but please know this is far from a game. This is the rawest, most sincere emotion I’ve felt in ages. I crave clarity and honesty in our exchanges, a mutual understanding that can only come from open hearts.