Wendy is a Licensed Clinical Social Worker in private practice. She is married with three children (23, 20, and 14).
The box fell off the shelf today and tumbled to the floor,
Forcing me to look upon its contents one time more.
The items found inside the box spread across the room from wall to wall,
Creating a huge destructive mess waiting for my fall.
I knelt down and gathered up a piece and brought it close to me,
And I remembered that broken, shattered girl I used to be.
The times I was bullied, abused, shamed, teased, forgotten, and blamed,
Every piece sat staring back at me out of the box that had them tamed.
I sat down upon the floor and wept the tears I felt so long ago,
And I struggled to remember that the time had helped me grow.
The items in the box helped to create the me I am today,
But the struggle is still very real and that has to be OK.
When the tears no longer fall I remember the strength I have at last,
I remember who I'm meant to be, not the person from the past.
So I pick up each reminder of the nightmare I used to face,
I put them back into their box and put the box back in its place.
© 2019 TripleAMom