Where were you when...

I think a lot about how things have changed, where things are going, and the gaps between those two spaces. I think about things feeling more simple, wondering if that’s just my imagination playing tricks on me - wondering how to be a better woman without always knowing what is better or what is worse. In these moments I fold into myself - sometimes I’m able to smooth the creases out, other times they leave indents . I’m always eager to iron them out, especially those that like to linger. 

I was a young woman so obsessed with the thought of being chosen - by lovers, by friends, by those in charge and those with the illusion of being in charge - someone so desperate to be chosen that she’d do anything. A sensibility toward rules and regulations need not apply here.

Let me be clear - there is both grief and joy in these memories. Sometimes doing what is wrong for you feels good, in a sordid sort of way. That’s how doing the best thing can end up feeling empty - chaos as a constant does that to you. 

So I wrap the moments of disquiet in with pleasure and joy. Those moments of pure desperation burning a hole in my heart, with nothing to staunch the bleeding or the burning, just dry air stinging its edges, juxtaposed with that quietly sweet feeling of triumph - I did it, I made it, I’m here. Deep breaths of praise flare from lips and nostrils, caress cheeks, move mountains. 

In this present moment, I look for grace for my past selves. Can I bring the grace I show to myself now back to those darkened corners of yesterday? Can I be honest with myself when I’m not showing as much grace as I tell myself I am? I deserve the most buoyant support, the utmost in care, kid gloves and pillowtops and all that. I deserve to let the magic of my prayers lift me up until I kiss the sky. 

Where were you when you first realized you deserved to love yourself the same way you love others? Where were you when you realized this was your only key to salvation?