Monday, October 26, 2009

Gloves off

The time had come.
This night was different.

As she stood in the all-too-familiar ring, staring into the blank eyes of her opponent, she felt something within her change. Her clenched fists began to loosen, and before she knew it her gloves were falling to the floor. As if in slow motion, they fell to the ring floor, bouncing slightly as they met the floor covered with so many of her tears, sweat, and blood. And in that moment she was more aware of herself than she'd been in a long time. A voice within her bellowed loudly, "NO MORE." Her eyes ran from her bare hands to the opponent across the ring, and then she turned and slowly climbed out of the ring. The opponent quietly chuckled, having seen her leave the ring before, always to return. But this time was different; she left the ring that night without looking over her shoulder to see if anyone was chasing after her.

Free from the ring, she walks with her head held high, with a new sense of security; a security rooted within a long lost sense of self worth. Walking away has been the best decision she's made in a long time. She is finally happy.

The struggle is over.
She is worth more than that...
and finally believes it.


1 comment:

megan kennedy said...

Thank you, dear one, for your sweet index card note that I read the other night. You don't even know how much quiet joy it brought to me. Joy and something else, something like a secure hug. I love you and I hope there is peace somewhere in your life.

 
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