Own It

She told me to own it.

Own it? I asked.

Yes. Own it.

You’re angry, and you have a right to be. How many times have you been hurt in the past? How often have you been betrayed? Those you love and care about have taken your trust and used it to suit their own needs. They won’t budge. They will never apologize. They don’t even realize they’ve done you wrong.

What is the definition of family? I bet you don’t even know. What is the definition of love, or trust? You have yet to find out. You’ve endured a lifetime of broken promises and vacant lies, held in place by those you call your friends. It’s time to go and find new ones.

Stop asking for so much, if you know you’ll only be disappointed. Lower your expectations. No one can provide your happiness but you. This is your life, and you need to take charge of it. This pain that you feel- this is your story. It’s a part of who you are. It makes you, you. Use it to your advantage and turn it into something good. Make it your strength. Make it worth your while. You need to own it.

But, I told her, I already have.

Well then, she replied, what’s the problem?


The Cadet

If I could pick one thing I’d want you to know, it would be of my incredible strength. I carry the weight of my world and am unburdened by it. The pressure is no stranger to me. It swells inside, tumultuous and raw, seeping slowly from my pores. Keeping it together is how I get my kicks.

It comes from the feeling of being lost. I kept it all in, having nowhere to turn, and it solidified inside me. It became my purpose, and so I raised my head a little higher. Shoulders squared, I’ll keep moving forward.

I show no weakness – soldiers never do. We march onward with our backs straight and our throats closed. You’ll bear no witness to my tears. And my scars; I wear them proudly. They make me who I am.

But if I could tell you one thing, it would be of my steel backbone. I’d try to convey that I’m near impossible to break. My fortitude is unshakable. Ready your bows and find your marks; I’ll be here, primed and ready. I couldn’t possibly yield. To give in would mean my demise, and I love life too much for that.

I am not immobile. I can be moved. My lips curve a smile as the sun touches my skin. I still tingle when the waves rush past my ankles and my feet slip deeper into the sand. Your smile makes me weak at the knees and to see you cry brings me to tears.

I can be strong for both of us. I’ll lend a hand to anyone who needs my courage. I am a mercenary and my sword is for hire. Worry not about me, kind soul, I can lick my own wounds and piece myself back together.

Because if there’s one thing you should know, it would be that I can handle anything. A world of hardship is never too much for me. I rise above it all and blaze a trail for the next victory. There are no purples hearts, badges or honors. I wouldn’t want them anyway.

All I desire is a connection. I yearn for a root to anchor me and be called my home. Even a lone warrior needs a place to rest her head. And yet, by reaching out for your hand, I leave myself vulnerable to the most devious of plans. Cradled carefully inside, under a tight lock and key, is the hope that one day I can lay down my arms.

And that maybe I can fall down into yours.