One day, your words weren’t worth fire . . .
The day I took my power back
I sat with my phone in my hand, wondering how or even if I should respond. It had been at least a year since we spoke. I want to say that I was sad or feeling a need to reconnect, but that would be a lie.
This time had been a revelation and a gift.
That’s the insidious nature of it, you never really know until you aren’t in front of it anymore.
“I thought maybe enough time had gone by that we could meet up and talk.”
The words shifted in and out of focus with my tears (of f****** frustration).
Why now? I was just starting to feel real again. I was starting to feel like the woman I was becoming twenty years ago. I had a window then too, but I didn’t take it.
Hence the tears of frustration. I had finally mustered the dark courage to step just past that point where I would usually buckle. Without buckling.
Now, this.
Everything rolled out in front of me, like a movie.
I saw myself as I was, reacting to pain with pain. I saw it and I wept for myself.
Deep breath.
I saw the pain breed more pain.
I saw that my reaction to this could be a catalyst.
“I’m sorry but I don’t think so,” I typed, my hands shaking. I was miles away, but the intensity of confrontation was buzzing through me. I wanted to do this right. Deep breath. “I’m not ready yet. I don’t know if I will be. Please.”
I tried to type slow. I paused and considered what I was saying. I stood firmly grounded in the present. It felt right.
My heart skipped several beats while I was convincing myself to press send. Then I did. It felt important.
Did I attract this response, having no capacity to visualize a change in this connection?
“You know what? The terrible you see in me is actually what you see in yourself. People used to tell me there was something wrong with you but I didn’t want to believe it . . .”
I stared at the screen, at each word, my face like a mask. I felt disbelief but I know that it was just a coping mechanism. I knew the truth of what my words would bring.
I deleted the messages and put my phone down beside me.
This buzzing would fizzle and die. I might feel it coursing through me again, especially if there is another text like that one. But a milestone had been passed.
I didn’t feel phased. In fact, I felt something grow, just under my heart and stretching up towards my third eye. You know, when you hit the right spot in pinball and the machine starts lighting up like Las Vegas?
Time to level up, I finally got it right.
This is a little micro non-fiction based on taking the power back. We can’t control how someone else reacts to us but we can control how we react back.
