Sometimes you have to do the hardest thing in the world in order to set yourself free. To set your soul free.
Sometimes, it is unthinkable.
And it is the hardest thing you will ever do. Even though you know it is the right thing to do. But at the same time it remains hard. Soul crushing, heart breaking hard.
But then, you soon realise, you can breathe. You can take a breath of fresh air, and fill your soul right back up. Fill yourself with life again.
No one, NO ONE on this earth has the right to take your soul away. To turn you into a shell, essentially dead, yet still breathing. Still alive, but not living.
Once apon a time, there was a little girl with blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes.
She had a beautiful castle at the back of her yard, with big red and white striped barber pole legs, a little verandah, and a garden bed with the tallest flowers in the world growing in it, reaching up to the sun.
She spent hours and hours playing in her castle, dreaming of her prince charming and awaiting his arrival.
This blonde haired blue eyed girl grew up. And met boys. Lovely lovely boys. Lovely boys who would fall over their feet to do anything she wanted.
But, as we know, the nice guys never the girl do they? What is it with that?
The blonde haired girl grew bored with the nice guys far to early, never appreciating what she had, could have, and would have.
Then she met this guy. Who seemed to be a nice guy too. And he was. For a while.
But then, as if overnight, someone cast a spell on him. Turned him into a fire breathing dragon, who locked the blonde haired blue eyed girl up in their house while he breathed his fiery breath all over her.
The house was nothing like her castle that she spent countless hours playing in. And he was not the prince charming that she dreamed of.
But he was there. When her whole world was falling apart he was still there. When she losing her mum, he was still there. He was a constant. Sadly, so was his attitude.
The girl with the blonde hair lost the sparkle in her eyes, and replaced it with sadness.
At first the world thought the girl wasn't coping with her mother being unwell. That she was rebelling. That she was a horrible horrible person. That she was nothing but a bitch.
Time went on. Some things change and some stay the same.
Then the world thought the girl wasn't coping with the loss of her mother, that she wasn't handling it as well she shoulda/coulda/woulda. But they didn't see. Couldn't see. That she was fighting another battle behind closed doors. A silent war, that she was not prepared to let anyone know about. And that no one noticed. She hid it too well.
The sad blonde haired girl, who was now sometimes carrying bald patches, and sometimes couldn't bear to open her blue eyes, to the reality, and in fear of tears falling from them for the world to see but not understand, fell into a lonely world. A world where no one could be trusted. A world where she was alone. A world where bad things happened, and good people let it.
One warm summers day, the angry dragon man took it a step it too far. The blonde haired girl had never seen blood fall from her face at the hands of another. She had endured everything else, all the things that were strategically done so that the everyday eye didn't see, but blood, falling her cut lip, into the bath tub, was the wake up call she needed. It provided her with strength that she didn't know she had.
She packed up the blonde haired baby, and with courage she didn't know she had, she told someone. She told someone that helped her more than she could ever have imagined. She told someone that showed her that the world wasn't what she thought it had been turned into. That she could still find her castle. And her prince charming will still come and rescue her.
And he did.
You have to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince. But no frog should ever treat his princess this way. And no princess should ever have to live through it.
Today, I am Speaking Out about domestic violence.
I have left out the gory details, mostly because I have worked too hard to put them behind me, to stop them defining me, to stop them being a barrier in my everyday. And because, well, I just really couldn't be bothered being dragged back down by them.
That's the thing with domestic violence. It stays with you forever. And post traumatic stress disorder is a bitch.
I say NO to domestic violence, and I urge you to do the same.
If you see someone that needs help, SPEAK UP, so they can speak out. Too many people watch it happen, and do nothing about it.
Oh, and they all lived happily ever after.