Lady in the Mirror

A few days behind but here is the next prompt:

The Unrequited love poem: How do you feel when you love someone who does not love you back?

So many thoughts buzzed around in my mind when I saw this prompt. First of all, I didn’t think I had anything to say about it – being that I have been married for over thirteen years now. Then I thought about all those “growing up” heartaches, all those “early adulthood” heartaches, but the one that stood out to me most was the love that I myself have withheld.

A few days ago I walked into into the bathroom to comb my hair. I looked into the mirror and the first thought that came to my mind was – “Gosh, I am so ugly.” I even scowled at myself. I didn’t give it another thought -just believed that was the truth. It has been so ingrained in my DNA that I am ugly, worthless, and not quite worthy of love that these negative self-talking to’s I have in the mirror or while I am sitting in the quiet seem normal – almost as if I need that reassurance to put me in my place and keep there. That place being somewhere at the bottom -hidden in a dark corner – where I am almost invisible.

Here is my poem:


Hello lady in the mirror,

do you see me?

Why don’t you seem to care?

I long to be looked upon with loving eyes

treated like a princess –

You told me my Father was the King.

If that were true,

why do you hurt me?

Why do you scowl every time I appear?

Am I too broken –

unlovable –

not enough for you?

I walk away

a little more bent

a few pieces fall on the floor

It’s too much to pick them up

I just hear the crunch –

under my feet.

Oh, lady in the mirror

will you ever love me?






Outside The Window

I looked up writing prompts on google today and found a list of 365 of them ( I am going to try them out.

Today’s prompt is: Outside the Window

I am sitting in the library and the shades are closed but I can still see the sunlight peaking through the little holes where the strings go through. I love how no matter how small the crack is the light will get in. It breaks through with such force, such heat, and such a want to brighten up whatever it touches. It reminds me of a day many years ago – I was a teenager – those were some interesting years for most of us I would venture to guess. I was about 14 years old and I was struggling with depression and anxiety for years already – but there was one place that felt safe me. It wasn’t really a place – more of a Presence – the Light, Love, and Wonderful Grace. It was a Presence that I had come to know as God. I studied the bible – went to classes where others shared their thoughts – but you know – just there – outside the window – the green grass, the rolling hills, the tall mountains, trees, flowers, rivers running, lakes filled, the sounds of birds – all of that and so much more in the feel of nature – that is where I felt His Presence most.


So twenty-four years ago I dedicated my life to living in His Presence. I have stumbled, I have fallen, I have let go and ran in the opposite direction. I have fought, I have surrendered, and I have let Him take my hand and guide me. I have lost my hope, lost my faith, and wanted to die – even today I struggle with holding on.However – all I have to do is look outside the window and there I feel it – the Presence of peace.


I want to be like the sunflower – always reaching for the light – turning my face to see – to feel – to be filled with the Light. I know my journey is not over. I know there will be hard days and there will be some easy days. I know that there will be moments I want to run in the opposite direction again – there will be moments I will rest in the Light – be held by Love. Those are the moments I want to the cherish – the ones where I can look outside the window – and no matter if the sun or moon is shining – no matter if there is green grass or brown dry weeds – no matter if the flowers are blooming or letting go until next Spring – no matter if the river runs fiercely or just a trickle passes me by – no matter if the rain or snow is falling and covering the ground – or if the winds have come and blown all the leaves off the trees – no matter what is going on outside the window- in those moments I want to hold on to the Presence of Unconditional Love, Hope, Grace, and Mercy.


What is outside your window today?

Mending the Self

Today I read an article about Self-Care on the mind body green website. The lady who wrote the blog gave five ways to care for yourself – number one made me want to close down the web page and just move on. I don’t do well with self-care.

Speak Kindly To Yourself – that is what number one is on this list. Excuse me! How do I do that!? I am going to let you in on a little secret of mine – I find it so much easier to point out my flaws – all those things I know are wrong with me. I can give you that list without even a thought. But kind words – kind thoughts – for myself – that almost makes me laugh. I don’t laugh because it is funny – but because it is sad and I don’t want to let the tears start flowing – they may never stop.

I can’t remember a time that I ever had a full length mirror in my bedroom growing up or in my home as an adult. Even when I was thin – I didn’t want to see me. Mirrors reveal too much – they force us to face ourselves – physically of course – but for me it is mental and spiritual as well. I can’t help but see the things that want to break out – the words that want to be spoken – the ugliness that wants to be let go – the goodness that wants to surface – the love – the scariest things of all – the love that is there within me for me – but I can’t feel worthy of it. So I have the small mirror in my bathroom to make sure my make-up is on right – when I wear it. I use it to make sure I don’t have toothpaste on my face or that my hair isn’t sticking straight up. Otherwise I avoid it.n

A few months ago I got brave – I bought a full length mirror. I was ready to see me – or so I thought. It is hidden behind my paper organizer. I don’t want to see me – I don’t want to see what I have become. It is a scary thing to admit to yourself that something is wrong – something deeper than just the skin on the surface.

Mending hurts. I didn’t think that the process would be this hard and painful – but it is. The pain takes your breath away – makes you feel like vomiting – makes you head ache to the point of keeping you immobile on the couch. I knew it wouldn’t be easy – is this hardness worth it? I don’t know.

Can I speak kindly to myself? If I bring the full length mirror out into the openness – out where I will see it – and it will see me – will I be able to speak kindness?



The Mending

Peace will come in surrender – to great love.

In a place of quiet healing – as the time changes the scenery.

A cool breeze blows through my hair – bringing with it happy melodies.

My heart hears it – my arms raise as my body sways.

I breathe in the scents – earth and flowers warmed by the sun.

Nothing stops the flow – the connection is strong.

Today in my mind’s eye – soon reality.

The time of mending calls – it is quickly coming.

My feet must follow – the dirt path, not made by man’s hands.

Only Love – can forge the way to recovery.

I reach for the hand extended – the energy of goodness I follow.

No longer allowing hate to break – I take the needle, the thread that falls from a place unseen.

The mending – begins.

Un-mended Soul

In visions of myself, my time of peace comes. No longer out of my reach. Why then, can I not grab hold when my eyes are open? Only emptiness. Only restless chaos filled with fear and longing to be a perfect version of what someone has told me I should be. You see, I am not me. Not fully, not yet. The fear instilled in me is not only fear of the outside world and all it’s madness. But of me. What I am capable of being. What I am capable of doing – when at last I mend.

As a child I began to feel the tearing of my soul. A terrifying, gut wrenching pain. I longed to be loved for who I was – but that was not enough. I wasn’t what the world wanted. I longed to be. To be bold. To be strong. To be accepted. I tore away my emotional self. The one who cried tears over happy things and sad things. The one who cried tears of cleansing and healing – in hopes that this would show strength.

I tore away the part who needed – out loud. I would go about this life alone. When my heart ached – when I was hurt by hands of others. I would not break – but I did – quietly. No one was to know the pain it caused to swallow the words that longed to break to the surface. The words that would set me free. The words that would began the healing. Instead I stuffed them in a little box – un coffre-fort. No one would believe me if I spoke them out loud. I was the daydreamer. The one in darkness – in her room surrounded by words on paper – words that sang out. The weird – crazy one. Don’t utter those words in public though – that would be an embarrassment. I already knew I was one.

Another rip of my soul took my love. Love for me. Some days even the love for others. I began covering – my mouth so no words would come forth and share truth. My body – not only clothes of black – but fat. Yes, today I admit that the weight did not all come from place unknown to me. I didn’t know what worked behind the scenes but I knew I gave up. No eyes would want to see me – no hands would touch – nothing would be expected of me. I was not only the weird, crazy one – but now the fat one.

Ugliness always peered out from the mirrors that hung in my room. I dared not look for too long – I might murder what I saw. After all- it was already killing me – slowly. It became an addiction – the blade – the hot lighter – even the unwillingness to admit my diet consisted of hardly nothing – except the tastes that allowed the sensation of calmness. It has taken over – I allowed it to take over. How did I not know?

A shield of black kept them away. I didn’t realize I had the power -then. Yet I did. The power to hide from ugliness that they spoke through the dagger in their eyes. Appearances are everything – paint on a smile and put nice clothes one. Sit in a sanctuary made by man’s hands and be that “goodness” they expect. I did. But emptiness still filled me. It was religion – not spirituality – not true belief that I was taught to embrace. Judgment and “holier than thou” attitudes filled so many of the pews – the air was so heavy – I couldn’t freely breathe.

I grew with a sense of a need to please. A need to be only where I was told I could be. I didn’t thrive in anything. When I noticed – I could fly – to another level – I grounded myself. “No, you don’t belong up there,” I told myself. I must stay put at the lower level – where I belonged. The trembling, anxiousness came upon me full force every time I was going to speak – to defend myself – to ask for my needs and wants to be met. Every dream of the answer to the, “what do you want to be when you grow up,” question – stayed put in my coffre-fort – never allowed to take root because I didn’t deserve it.

Again, my soul tore. Every time I sat in my car unable to get out – unable to get to a class – unable to go to work. I felt it. I couldn’t stop it. I sat in silence. I claimed physical illness – did it. I couldn’t admit that – my mind – did it. That something out of my control held me captive. Some dark shadow – sadness – had taken root in place of my dreams – my goals of a happy, love-filled life.

It is time – to mend. I no longer can resist the call – the visions of peace. I no longer can allow myself to be held captive – to make an enemy of myself – of those things that are within me. It is time for acceptance.