Laura is a mother of two, a teacher, writer and an artist. She also identifies with dreamer, visionary, advocate and an organizer.
My alter-ego is attempting to win.
I can’t let her.
She is the voice of uncertainty. Confusion.
She preys upon the small bit of vulnerability I have allowed to remain within my soul.
Experiences that have shattered my trust
And produced questions about the definition of honesty and loyalty
Have tried to suffocate the openness I so freely scattered in my younger days.
I’ve fought to remain decisive and affirmative
As I maneuvered through the disappointments
That continuously dropped impediments along my way.
For years this second self was a stronger force
And I conceded to her strength.
There were numerous moments
I allowed her empowerment
To leave me feeling isolated, distant and deserted
All the while a solid structure of support
Clamored for my attention from the sidelines
Yet I viewed that as nothing but a mirage and a figment of my imagination.
It is said that experience breeds knowledge and knowledge breeds maturity.
It took years but I was able to pull myself out of the pith of desolation
And develop a contentedness in my life.
My faith intensified through the experiences of unexplained phenomena
Where no other explanation could be constructed
But in knowing that heavenly intervention was guiding my way.
My ability to override the anxiety and intense emotions that used to rule me
Presented a newfound security
And I happily navigated my life’s path
Ignoring the storms by accepting the beauty of the blossoms
That were offered afterward.
Barriers became stumbling blocks and not mountains I couldn’t climb.
I silently embraced the artistry
Of life and quietly whispered genuine gratitude
For each opportunity and blessing.
Yes, she attempted to resurface many times over the years
But I now believed she was cultured from the innocent child
That had no voice and the lack of power
to decide which direction
would offer solace from her quandaries.
I learned that each impasse offered a solution
Even if the outcome veered from the illustration I mindfully produced.
I’ve become complacent and neglected to see
The power she has been gathering.
While I recognized her glaring face
I assumed she was surfacing for air and would then delve back into the depths
Of my heart’s cavity
Where she had been tucked away successfully for almost a decade.
Instead of ignoring her teasing
I’ve deliberately entertained her and now we are battling for power.
I cannot let her win.
To do so would be acceptance of darkness with no hope of light.
My prayers are mournful
And an ocean of tears attempts to drown me
I seek the skies for prisms that lead to the promise of an end to her power.
I force myself to extend my grasp
And pull comrades closer
To intensify my mental army.
She will not win.
When I open my eyes
I will willfully see light
And knowingly resolve to be purposeful in my thoughts
While abandoning her
Until she no longer exists.
Today, I feel that I am winning.