Little Girl Broken, Loved

Little girl, finding comfort in your big strong arms

Loving, safe – you were my everything

What happened that first night

When you silently slipped into my room?

I was seven. My mind was not mature enough to understand.

So, I left my body and looked up at the ceiling

Your violence and drinking. Mom’s valium and neglect.

Little girl broken, taking on the role of Good Will Ambassador

Striving to bring peace to the family

Your death at 42 was so shocking to me, I left my then 13-year-old body

I walked alone around the block

Experiencing a wave of relief knowing my entire world would be better now

The delayed grief would come after decades of low self-esteem and feeling unlovable

Then confronting myself like a voracious detective, I worked through layers upon layers

To uncover actual truths and false truths

What happened to me is part of my story, but it is not the whole story

It does not define me

I am pruning – and continue to prune – who I currently am and who I want to be

I now know I am enough, just as I am