I Am The Author Of My Own Story

So now it begins. The beginning of a new chapter, heck the beginning of a new book. The sun rises on a new decade, the sun rises on a new day. I watch as it crests over the horizon and for the first time in a long time, I smile. I’ve said all I have to say to the ones who brought me down, the ones who ruled my life for so long, longer than I want to admit. But it’s all over, the final piece submitted, and I can let the light enter my soul again. I can feel the light. The sun has begun to rise.

And the weight, the burden I’ve carried on these old shoulders for years, is gone. It lifted, finally. I stopped checking, I stopped looking, I stopped thinking and wondering if I pass through their minds, from time to time, I dropped that weight finally. And in its place I feel my hair stir across my bare skin, in the morning breeze. With stumbling feet, with a clear mind, and a brand new soul I step gingerly across rocks and roots. I look up and for the first time in a long time the path before me isn’t circular, it’s straight in front of me.

The woman who cared more about making others happy, who did everything in her power to be enough, that woman isn’t who woke up this morning. This time the sun broke through the clouds that have been blocking my sunrises for years now, and today I woke up the woman I’ve always wanted to be. A woman in her own right, who holds the key to her own happiness, who knows when to say no, commands respect, and most importantly is the author of her own story.

The sun rose today. For the first time, in a long time, I watched it crest over the ridge and greet me. A woman in her own right, a brand new soul, the author of her own story. And for the first time, in a long time, I felt a smile form on my face. I stopped looking backwards, I stopped wondering who was watching me, and I remembered that despite enjoying my solitude I’m surrounded by so many people who do love me. I’m not alone, and I’m happy. For the first time in a long time, I’m happy.

So here’s to beginnings. Here’s to new decades, new mornings, bright sunrises, that break through the clouds, that persevere regardless of how dark the night. Here’s to family and friends, to smiling faces, happy tears, and shoulders to lean on when things become tough again. Here’s to a new woman born out of sadness, sorrow, misery, and darkness. Who walked through fire, spent years on her knees, carries scars that are finally fading. Here’s to owning the bad along with the good. Acknowledging, speaking into existence every chapter in my story. Even the bad. Even the buried. And here’s to new beginnings. To the sun rising, finally.

About the author

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