poetry

I’m Sorry: My Amends to Myself. {poetry}

This is an initiation from childhood into womanhood

And there are some things I am letting go of, and some things I am welcoming in

I will no longer be a victim

I will make choices about my life, as an actor rather than a reactor.

This means I will have less excuses

More responsibility

And all that comes with responsibility

I have been looking for a marker

A line in the sand

To say that what happened before was not a full choice

And let myself make choices from this moment on

I am not looking for certainty

I am not looking for an easy ride

I am no longer looking to blame the pain on anyone or thing

Not my mum, my dad, my sister, step-parents, my grandmother, family dynamics, money, school, the matrix, divorce, family courts, brainwashing, my ex, rape, violence, bullies, the education system, men, cities, passivity, control, manipulation, domination or drugs

These burdens are no longer mine to carry

I am choosing to put it down

I give it back

I love that madness for bringing me here

And I honor how hurt I have been by these things

I know I was hurt

And I know that pain has been the greatest teacher

I didn’t have the opportunity to make choices, because I was a child. I love that little girl in me, for all she had to go through. There was something guiding me, the tender hand of the unseen, leading me toward this moment where I can hold the reins for the very first time.

I am no longer a rape victim. I have not simply survived. I have recovered and thrived and X marks the spot where I reclaim the power that was given away, where I get to build my life, just as I want it.

My amends to myself:

I’m sorry for how much doubt and criticism I let fill your head

I’m sorry for how much I pummeled this precious body you live in

I’m sorry I filled you with chemicals from big pharma and chemicals in crushed white powder.

I’m sorry I filled you with sugar.

I’m sorry I let you binge and purge and stay up late, hoping someone would snap you out of your loneliness.

I’m sorry I stopped you from eating, and made you live on black unsweetened coffee, wishing you could disappear so that the world would be right again.

I’m sorry I drank you into oblivion time and time again from such a young age when your brain was still forming.

I’m sorry I cut you for attention.

I’m sorry I was so mean to your feet, your legs, your ass, your breasts, your smile, your nose.

I’m sorry I criticized and tried to perfect these things, whilst tormenting myself with the knowing that self-hate only stunts growth.

I’m sorry I didn’t know another way out. I know you did the best you could.

I’m sorry for comparing you to others.

I’m sorry for stealing things to eat because I was so helpless.

I’m sorry for all the million times I have lied to protect you, feeling that the truth will leave me abandoned.

I’m sorry for overriding your natural rhythms, for making you believe you have to perform and produce to be safe.

I’m sorry for believing the lie that there is something fundamentally wrong with you. There is nothing wrong. There is nothing wrong with you. You are so loved, so provided for, so needed and so wanted.

I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to let you know that. You’re whole and complete just as you are. There are answers to the questions you are seeking, all will be revealed, and it will be more beautiful than you can imagine.

I want you to have all of life, and I want it to be blessed. You’re doing it, baby. Let it in. Be grateful, be humble, be in awe at the miracles.

I forgive you for what you did to survive.

***

LouisaJaneWestJane West is a writer, recovering alcoholic, life-coach and philosopher. She studied female sexuality and communication for two years (and then for the rest of her life). She likes sadness as much as she likes happiness, and the truth above everything. She likes quotations and believes in past lives, astrology and magic. She grew up in London and recently moved to San Francisco. Find out about coaching with her at her website, or connect via Instagram.

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