Farewell to a pioneer
She stood resolute her whole life, against every voice that warned her to mind her place, stay in her lane, or to manage her expectations more realistically.
She ignored the naysayers, not because they were wrong, but because she knew no other way to live life. Each milestone merely a place to take a deep breath and look ahead.
She climbed mountains others declared off limits to her ilk, then looked around for a new mountain, a broader sea, or darker night to conquer.
She refused to climb over or drive through others in her path, instead dragging them along with her, encouraging, and cajoling them, to reach deep for inner strength and hope.
She accepted accolades, prizes, and trophies, graciously, then put them in the attic and moved on. She quietly declared they were never the reason.
She acknowledge her past and it's pain and struggles, but never became their victim or slave. Instead she used them as incentive and motivation.
She rests now, in well deserved peace, covered in honor and glory. Her battle may be over, but her legacy will shine forever. She lives in all of us. We are her legacy.
She.
Violation
Where do I go to erase the sights of this afternoon? How do I unsee the object so often desired, enjoyed, and needed...until it is presented unwarranted or not even asked for? Why do I feel so terribly violated without having even been touched? The vision first tittilating, then disturbing haunts me and angers me. Was my dress too flashy, or my makeup insinuative? Did my smile invite the presentation? Why do I begin to cry and feel...shame? I curse myself for initially staring wide eyed at the magnificence of it and the wonder of what it must be like to touch. Then the shame returns and my tears flow as I feel reduced to being nothing more than an object or a conquest to be claimed. Never have I allowed myself to be used and yet, here, in broad daylight, on this expansive boulevard I have been used, abused, and debased. Where do I go to reclaim my life, my power, or even just to rebuild and recover from this devastation? What becomes of my self worth? Why does such a singular event threaten to destroy me so utterly and completely? I am stronger than this. Or am I?
Sunshine (not)
The song comes on, out of the blue, and suddenly I am alone in a room full of people fighting back the tears of regret, and the anguish of loss. My heart already broken and barely mended, shatters all over again. I struggle to show a smile so false and unconvincing surely everyone must know I am falling apart. Yet, not a single word, or even a knowing glance comes. At last, the song ends and no amount of sunshine can make me smile or carry me high.