My own, again...

Fifty weeks have passed me by, they have drawn lines on my face and lighten the colour of a few of the hairs on my head, too much and too little came to pass in this time. Few of my plans came into being, and so many unexpected and unimaginable happenings took their place.  It would be ridiculous to say this was a great year, by no stretch of the imagination it was. It was full of pain, loss, regret and heartache. It was a truly bizarre year, such a lonely affair... It still is. Even so, this was quite an incredible year. I can say that now that the hard part is over, the blessing of hindsight.

A year ago I saw myself in a different family, a different woman. Filling a different pair of shoes, the uncomfortable  kind. The woman then was certain of her happiness, of her choices and her sacrifices. She had learnt to ignore the gaps in her, all the things she had forsaken, postponed or set aside in order to be one man's woman. The future mirror was a wife and a mother, a carer, a satellite. Such an alien image, so strange that it became home in this twisted mind of mine. Having been driven by self-destructive forces for half my life to be fired up by something else, opposite in fact, was exhilarating and addictive, until the shoes made my feet bleed... Last Christmas I wished to forget who I had been up to that day. I wished I didn't feel so out of place. I wished I was really that woman in the mirror. Last Christmas marked the beginning of the end, I see that now. I knew then that I can never be one man's woman. I might be a wife and a mother one day, not any time soon, but perhaps one day, without ignoring gaps, without pretending, perhaps.

This year saw the undoing of everything,  and that,  was the best thing that could have happened. All the mayhem, all the falling apart, all the death, all the exuberance, they have all led to this: to this undoing.The fictions started to reveal themselves for what they were, the ties that could not hold for a moment longer finally broke, and my emotions were for once honest. Those around me changed as well, their lives taken directions so unexpected. My mum, forever etched in my mind with a cigarette in her hand, gave up smoking and chose life, and to see her granddaughter become a woman. My dad ended a relationship of twelve years and is now starting over and reconnecting with his family. Both changes have impacted hugely on the rest of the family, and on me, they have taught me that it is truly never too late to change, to do what you want, to choose something else. Both these events and the circumstances that led to them changed my plans, and in changing my plans they changed the path I walked, the people I met, the lovers I took, the challenges I encountered.

Looking back is hopeless pursuit but often we cannot avoid it. Returning to my cave, to my space, having to conciliate this new woman with the one I left behind has not been an easy task. There seem to be cracks everywhere I look, the botch job I did before I left didn't hold and now I realise it doesn't matter. All the cracks, the faults, the uneven surfaces they are me.I am back, and they are the cement that keep me together, and they will never go away.

I was meant to post this a long time ago but fear of judgement and impossible situations held me back. I am finally whole, not a charming, beautiful whole, but I am whole at last, and it is time to put this out there, not hiding in my heart anymore...