Being a secret can be a rush. There is that excitement. The adrenaline that fills your body. The rush of it running through your veins can be addicting. It becomes a habit. We know right from wrong at such a young age, and yet so many are okay with being a secret. The side piece. The second choice. The extra piece of pumpkin pie on Thanksgiving that everyone knows if they have they will have to undo the top button of their jeans. And here we are…someone’s secret, or passed secret, because, well lessons learned. Karma is a bitch.
I will fully admit I was a secret. Many people know I was a secret. It was a huge lesson in my life. Karma became my best friend for a while. She and I are pretty close. We’re tight bitches. I am sitting here debating in my head how to put my thoughts into words, it is not admitting who I am that I fear, I know what I did, and I am not afraid to admit what wrongs I have done in my life. I like to think of myself as an open book. I am sitting here debating where to go with this entry. I want my writing to reflect the things I go through, what I face, who I truly am, the raw, the deep dark thoughts that run through my head. This is who I am.
When I first started writing this entry it was going in a different direction. I did not like the way I wrote anything after this last paragraph. I was stuck. I kept going back and forth on whether I should post this or not. I decided not too until I took another look at it. Then the words came to me on exactly what I was trying to say, and of course I had to be driving down the highway. Hate when that happens.
I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but I have a secret. I hide so much emotion behind my smile, my eyes, that only those that truly know me know the ends and outs of my pain. The dark twisty path my beautiful soul walks every day. The things I have experienced most would not survive, but here I am with my secrets that have made me who I am that only few know.
I stand strong today. I wear gold wings of hope, I am a voice in someone else’s darkness, their strength for just a few minutes, letting them know everything will be alright, getting help sent their way. That little bit of light in the deepest darkness of suffocation where one feels there is no hope. I survived my dark twisty thorn scar filled path for a reason. To help others.
Slowly, over the years, I have shared my secrets of pain. I wear them on my sleeves, embrace the path life has led me, and I have learned how to grow from the pain. I can honestly say I love the woman I am becoming. No longer do I fear of the shadows that lurk in the darkness.
Yes, I was a secret. I learned a huge lesson. Karma is a bitch. Karma teaches lessons if you are willing to learn.
Some of you are probably curious about what I meant when I said, ‘I may be a secret, have been a secret, still am a secret, but have a secret.’ In time.