I recently had the lovely opportunity of being involved in a chat on Twitter. A chat for survivors of domestic abuse. How completely liberating. A moment to reflect on what our first happy moments were after leaving our nightmare. I never really thought about it before. It forced me to go back and pick out the brightest moments. It forced me to realize there was a miracle in the making at the very moment my world felt like a bad dream. It took my focus away from the pain of my abuser and put a positive light right back on me. I am learning to do more of that without feeling selfish. It's crucial in my healing to solely focus on me. Of course I focus on my son, but if my focus is not on me, how in the world can I help him? I have to be healthy. It's getting easier; to balance *me* time with *our* time. The more I participated, the more connections I made with fellow survivors. Authors, mothers, poets, singers, daughters; friends. I felt that wonderful warrior woman feeling come over me all over again. It helped reiterate that I am most definitely not alone. It helped my other followers on Twitter realize there is more to me than a 140 character poem hanging in the balance.
This all came at a time when my ex decided to try to wrangle me in another beastly argument. I needed the balance of fellow survivors to help me realize it isn't worth it to accept the invitation of his fight. It helped me stay blessedly silent. Some words are not even worth the breath or time it takes to utter them. So I keep moving forward. Head held high. Tomahawk at my side. Instead of a War Dance, I'm in my Sun Dance. The spikes are in my tender flesh of my chest as I slowly move around the Maypole; meditating and reflecting in my own warmth of my soul. Going deeper than I've ever gone before. Not wasting time on regrets, excuses, or mindless recuses. If I look back now, it's only long enough to see just how far I've come and keep moving on.
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