My house is made of glass.
For years I was asked to keep secrets. Secrets so deep that they nearly buried me with them.
When I found my voice, I wasn't celebrated, I wasn't endorsed, I wasn't protected; I was stoned.
I wanted to scream but I couldn't, and all my attempts manifested as further self-destruction.
After fifteen years, by the grace of God, the mercy of my lover, and the unconditional love of my children, I caught my breath.
It is here that I found the most joy in living transparently. Both crippled by the judgements of others and the requirement to be accepted by them, the roads of self-discovery were ever-winding.
Each day I find myself more willing to be myself.
Each day I find myself more able to handle criticism.
"I don't believe you," and "I don't believe in you" are not the same as, "we are not meant for one another." There is freedom in that.
Each day I find myself more grounded in the Source.
Each day I find myself more forgiven.
More honest
More open.
More alive.
Each day I find myself more alive, and what a fucking miracle.
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