It seems like the more one lives, the less one lives for oneself.
I do not do a lot of the things I used to do, mostly due to the time that is needed for Chris and Linus. The more people I am blessed to know, the less I think about what I want. Instead I end up putting everyone else before me. My true passion used to be writing: songs, poems, anything to express myself. Words moved me in ways life never did. They were my wings of escape and protection. I always had my pen and paper to turn to when I had a bad day without worrying about being judged. A listening ear and shoulder to cry on were present through the lyrics that appeared on the page. An answer or advice was not needed, just being there was enough. Somewhere along the way of life burdens, I have lost my friends and passion. I miss how I could be myself with purely me. It was almost like meditation or prayer. Loneliness was never felt, only serenity.
Still Me
Often I wonder if that girl still exists,
the one with such great courage.
A strength greater than her image,
wisdom beyond her years,
reliance on herself,
so independent with her tears.
As I search in the mirror
her reflection has transformed.
No longer an awkward teenager,
but a woman with so much more.
A loving husband,
a beautiful baby boy,
being a mother and wife
could not bring her greater joy.
Yet there is emptiness
still longing to be filled.
Another vocation is calling
as she writes these words to you.
A paper of feelings,
a pen to hold,
finding herself
through stories untold.
-Tanya