Scars

I’ll show you my scars if you show me yours. Sike, I’ll show you mine without the thought of looking at yours. My scars tell the story of heartache to triumph.

My scars speak to me louder than the person in front of me. My scars are what make me beautiful. How dare you think I need to see yours in order to share mine.

My scars tell me there has been healing in places I thought were impossible. My scars are raised above my skin and my heart, the trail where you could run your fingers back to the start.

Would you rather see where my scars end or begin? Either choice you’ll see the beauty that lies within.

Coming Out Of The Shadows

Forgive me, this may sound like a throw up of words, but these are the words that need to be thrown up in order for them to no longer choke me.

Hi, my name is Tamirra. Some of you know my many layers, while others only know my surface. My healing ends with me coming out of the shadows. Social anxiety is something that has held me hostage. The little girl in me screaming to not be seen, but I am here to tell her and everyone else that I deserve nothing more but to be seen.

I have been my worse enemy my entire life, putting blame on others when it was only my pain speaking. I have treated myself with no love or understanding. I have given myself physically, mentally and emotionally in ways that should have never happened. I have forgiven myself throught it all.

I realized in learning to forgive myself I am able to change my perspective and forgive others. Everyone is fighting their own demons I was just lucky enough to fight mine and win.

I have unearthed my gifts and my gifts are my words. The authenticity behind them and being able to understand my truth to help others find theirs.

I say all of that to say this, everyone deserves to be heard even if it’s in opposition to what you believe and we really aren’t as different as we think we are we’re just afraid to face ourselves. These are some of my truths because I refuse to live in the shadows and I refuse to continue to think that I am not enough because in reality I have already healed myself.

I want to leave you with a Hindu myth

Humans were created with Devine powers, but took advantage of the powers. (Of course) so the chief God took them away.

The chief God asked his counsel where he should hide them.

One suggested the core of the earth, he said, no they’ll only dig the earth to find it.

Another suggested the deepest part of the sea, he said, no they’ll only dive to find it.

The last suggestion was the highest mountain tops, he said, no they’ll only climb until they reach it.

The chief God decided to hide it inside of the people because he knew they would never look there.

We are searching outside of ourselves in order to find that thing that makes us whole. In reality, the deeper you dive inside of yourself is where you’ll find your power.

Kind Of Woman

Only a few people know this, but when Peyton was in the hospital the first time she didn’t want me near her. She would always call for her father. The reason was my energy was too cold. She wasn’t receiving the love and affection that she desperately needed.

I am the everything is okay kind of woman, the we don’t have time for this kind of woman, the one that keeps our feelings under control and doesn’t allow anything to stop us kind of woman.

I am also the never got coddled kind of woman, the one who can’t go to her mother and tell her she doesn’t feel good and get sympathy kind of woman. The one who was told to go lay down and go to sleep kind of woman. The one who had a stomach virus and got in trouble for vomiting on the floor kind of woman.

I am the one who has to be strong kind of woman, the one who could show no weakness kind of woman because my strength is holding everyone else together kind of woman.

I am the woman that has to cry in the shower in order to get some type of reprieve.

I am the woman like so many before me who had no time to be sick because it was a sign of weakness, no time to be sick because our parents had to continue to make our world go round.

I am the woman who used to be jealous that others could go to their mom and lay in their lap and tell them what’s wrong.

I turned out to be the woman that’s grateful for the strength that my mother instilled in me. The strength that could survive without human contact when it seems like I need it the most.

I am the woman like so many before me that was raised to be independent, but in that independence never learned how to be properly loved. You see my tough exterior not realizing there is someone who is soft and sensitive inside screaming to be loved.

You see my pain as anger. You see my passion as having an attitude. Stifled by my own thoughts because I’m not allowed to have my own feelings without being offensive.

I am only one woman, but this one woman comes from a collective whole that feels the same way.