You Owe No One an Explanation

There are times in life that you draw the cards of fate and lessons must be learned.

This is where the wheel turns, offering you a choice between destiny and fate.

If you listen, you will know this path has been traveled before. Listen deeply, do you hear the guest knocking at your door?

Shame, I welcome you. Share your teachings.

How often have you seen yourself through a lens uncleaned?

What am I holding onto from the past?

You still carry the burden of an unloved child, looking at yourself as if no one is there. You see a shell, a shadow, and a reflection of despair.

When did you choose to hide yourself?

You were small, too young to know your own power and worth.

You were shamed for the freedom your heart desired, shamed for your curiosity, shamed for knowing and not knowing, and shamed for wanting to be childlike and carefree.

When did you stop believing you were magic?

Threats of hellfire and brimstone held shame knowingly in their hands. This “hell” was created by the shame handed down to you, convincing you that you needed to be saved.

“Do this. Don’t do that. Your body is sin’s sanctuary. Keep yourself pure or you’re a whore. Don’t bother asking for help, no one will listen anyway. “

These lies created the prison of someone else’s making, now open the door.

Shame is an insidious weapon sold to the masses, passed off as righteousness and truth.

You owe no one an explanation for your right to BE. Your voice is your own, your body is your home, and your life is yours to own.

You don’t like my bravery and sharp truth? Why would you? It cuts through your lies, but I have no need for your war. That was the me that was before. My crown of love wouldn’t look right wallowing in the mud.

I hear my own arrogance reflected in those words, just another mask to hide my own self-doubt about who I am BEcoming, a paradox of intermingling opposites.

No “good” or “bad”, just waning, waxing, noonday, and night. Shame would have told me otherwise, but now I see with new eyes.

And so it is.

Photo by George Bohunicky on Unsplash