As a girl, I had a belief and desire nestled within myself. I wanted to write, and to allow myself to be free.
Yet something prevented me from doing that, a burden on my heart. It destroyed my livelihood and put a damper on the little girl inside of me.
Its stronghold on me kept me detached from myself and reality.
The way that I saw the world back then was so abysmal, so hopeless and so static-I thought I'd never change.
Even then, though I was hopelessly withdrawn, others had faith in me. They saw past the guise that I hid behind and saw me for not who I was presently, but for who I had the potential to be. My talents and beauty were like a light that shone in the darkness.
I remember now numerous missed opportunities. All sorts of people were enamored by me. The outside world knew I had talent and beauty, but back then, I was not ready to reciprocate those feelings.
It is now clear to me how those years, people noticed something different about me. They saw a beautiful, gifted child who was painfully inhibited and afraid.
|There were countless days I spent alone with no one but my mother nearby. For hours we would stay there and pour out our hearts until there wasn't a tear left for us to cry.|
Those days have still left a mark on me because I realize I wasted so much time being so silent, feeling so worthless, withdrawn and depressed. While others children would laugh and go on about their ways, I was always the one who would cry and sit in dreaded solitude day after day. It seemed that terrified little girl who couldn't fend for herself, that girl all the social workers and psychiatrists would call "mute" might never outgrow her shell.
In fact, I see now how I so afraid that I had forgotten how to speak.
Day by day, scores of people would try to move me. For so long they'd try to break my shell and let me be the young girl I should be.
Though there's one thing I remember from those dreadful years, and it was something I've carried with me today.
Deep inside of me there was a desire to let my voice be known to the world who believed I could not speak.
I wrote endless tales of children who I wished I could be.
I'd wasted so much time wondering why I was who I was. I asked myself why I could not be a happy, carefree child, the exact thing it seemed everyone else was. But today, I am grateful, even for my past. I have what so many children do not have, and that is a family that I know loves me, even when I didn't love myself. I'm thankful for those who never gave up on me, even when it seemed the way I was the way I'd always be.
I am the same person, but I have changed. I feel there must have been a reason for the experiences that I had when I was a little child. Maybe not today, but one day I will know.
I am still a shy little girl at heart, yearning to be free. The way I was then will always be a part of me, but now I feel that I can move on and let myself go and be the person I was destined to be.