Sometimes when I imagine myself, I see a person that has cracks throughout their body. The body is just flesh and bone but I’m talking about like a stain glass window of sorts. Or perhaps more like, the old china cup that has hair-line cracks throughout it but you can’t stop using it. The thin cracks making it only more beautiful.
Each crack within me was placed there from an experience. The tiny cracks creating a brokenness in one shell of a human. From the arguments on the playground to being picked last on a team as a child. The teen emotions of being dumped by the guy I thought was my whole world or struggling to pass Algebra. Finding myself walking the high school halls practically full term pregnant.
The more substantial cracks stem from someone taking advantage of me as a child. The remnants of sleeping in a car overnight due to alcoholic situations at home. Not to forget to mention my experience of divorce, motherhood fails, and professional occupations.
Some of those cracks were brought on by other people’s actions and some my own.
Each one has its place within me and each one helped mold me into who I am today. Maybe the reason I am able to write is due to one of these or perhaps all of them. I will never know. I find that okay, I have always said “struggles build character.”
I’ve come to realize from the years 2013 through 2016 there became a crack in my being so substantial it made the largest of large indention. A combination of things. I was moved to a place of darkness, seeming to never return and changed forever who I am, almost ruining my marriage, my role as a mother in this world, and a few other things.
In the span of those three years I made choices and choices were made for me that scarred me for life. I’m still reeling from them, especially since we find ourselves once again in the month of August. The difference is I am feeling better. The difference is I survived. I’m stronger and I’m still here writing about it.
Check back soon to get another edition of the Cracks Within series.