I’ve read the pages of your story.  I’ve studied the words, the inflections, the pauses and silences.  I’ve made my life a study of yours.  I’ve poured myself into a mold I thought would please you.  And I find I no longer fit.  I swell and spill over the edge.  I’m surprised to find I cannot be contained.  I’m surprised to find I don’t want to be.  Not anymore.

A lifetime of making myself small, seeking approval, conforming to other people’s standards wars against me.  Fear of the unknown, fear of losing those I love, fear of disapproval threatens to overtake me.  But I’ve made a commitment to myself.  I will see myself.  I will see and learn to love the woman God has created me to be.



I move, one tentative step after another, toward freedom.



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