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

Hear laughter

Taste sweetness

And knowingly resolve to be purposeful in my thoughts

While abandoning her

Until she no longer exists.

Today, I feel that I am winning.