I had grand plans for today.
I was going to spend the majority of the day putting some profound emotional baggage behind me. This is known in A.A. speak as Step Five.
Then I was going to write an amazing story and post it here.
Then I was going to make a delicious, moderately nutritious dinner for myself and my husband.
Because I am super-woman. Or at least, I try to be like her.
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Instead, I got home late after a draining day. Good progress made on the healing front, but repairing the soul is uncomfortable, to say the least. Digging at wounds and flaws, rooting out the festering flesh you cannot see but you most certainly feel and maybe compensate for requires reliving the pain, and possibly more tears than makes you comfortable.
It’s so strange, actions that wounded you decades ago can still ache in the deepest of places.
I cried for the hurt little girl I ignored for so many years, and took a step towards letting her go so the woman I am today doesn’t suffer anymore.
Now I am raw. Raw and spent.
I wonder what I will look like when this is all over? Will my soul blister over and scar smoothly like sturdy parachute silk? Will those internal scars be visible, a decipherable testament to what I have gone through? Will I be more beautiful for them, strength shining through my flaws like freshly washed windows? Will I be hollow and brittle, more fragile for having confronted the demons?
I think today I am more human than super-woman. For once, I don’t mind this.
