Sharing

I like how it feels to share my story. I am a great story-teller. I command attention. I make every word powerful. It is more than that though. It is strength. It is courage. It is what was once not there and now is. That is the remarkability of the stories I tell. They are different now to how I used to tell them. My photographic memory is pretty reliable. The facts stay the same, but the emotions and feelings change. At some point, the unbearable becomes bearable. You are no longer defined by pain and suffering. I would suggest that is natural to be, at first. However, you need to overcome it. It is easier than you would think.

I like being vulnerably honest. I like my own words. The way it feels when someone says “That’s beautiful. Who wrote that?”. The way that it is my own is more special and so much better. I am being clear and explicit. I leave little room for misinterpretation. The truth in my words becomes more and more evident. The reactions are surprising. Sometime people tell me it is sad. Sometimes that I am strong. I know these things now. It took some time. I did not realise a lot of the wrong in my life. If you are sheltered and taught wrong, it becomes right. I may be a little cold, but I have now learnt to identidy the wrong at least. I am still learning the love. I will get there, though. In everyone who hears my story, there is love.

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