What did I leave at "home"?
I left the negativity. I left the judgments. I left the looking down through glasses that are never rose colored. I left sadness. I left despair. I left heartache. I left disappointment. I left my parents and their constant disapproval. And I went home.
Home to positive. Home to where there aren't any judgments. Home where I have my rose colored glasses on. Where there is happiness, hearts full, proper challenges, and ever-pending success.
Sometimes when you leave something, no matter how hard it is to leave it, it's for the best.
I hope I can go back one day.
I hope they will welcome me.
And I hope we will agree to accept each other, and our differences.
I hope that we can leave the past and start living in the future.
I am willing, but only if they can see me.
Really see me and respect me for that path that I have chosen to travel.
My conference roomie Mishelle wrote this workshopping piece
in the Writer's Craft Workshop at Blissdom a few weeks ago.
Her photos are on flickr.
8 comments:
(((Mishi)))
I know from personal experience that one day all this can be put behind you-the relationship will never be the same, but in many ways it will be better (at least my hope is that you have the same results that I had) It is hard, it is heart wrenching, it could take years.
Know if you need an ear I am here. xo
Oh, I relate, yes I do.
It took forever, like my entire life, to finally have my own opinion of myself be so solid and certain that what my mom thought couldn't change it.
It's taken a lifetime, xoxo
The ache to be TRULY seen, that turns into defiance and a refusal to accept LESS THAN THAT--you've captured it beautifully. That you wrote this during our short workshop exercise? You haven't even come close to tapping the root of a wild brilliant fountain of creative depth, and it is ready for you. So honored to read this.
Deb is so right, there is a fount, sweet friend. I can't wait to watch as you crash thru it and the rest comes spilling out in a glorious crecendo of words that have been patiently waiting to be set free.
Xoxo
Ari
No joking. This, Mishi, comes from a different place and one to which so many of us relate.
I want more. I love that you tapped it in our workshop. I love your freedom. Keep going with it. That's what my gut says.
There's more.
So much love you, such beauty.
Amber
Thank you, dear friends. I know there is more. This will come out. I can promise that.
Your workshop was like gold.
Your friendship, though, like breath.
One of the hardest emotions I, personally, have ever had to deal with was the relief I felt at my father's death. You've really masterfully captured that dichotomy of liberation and melancholy. Bravo.
I'm glad you could leave and find some place better. Home is often that landing, launching pad to getting the life we really want, and deserve.
Great piece, Mishelle.
Steph
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