The chill of Autumn was more easily felt this morning, but with it comes the warmth of sweaters, cosy quilts, warm mugs of hot chocolate to wrap one’s hands around.
With a purge comes the cobwebs and the dust, but these soon clear and a new freshness reveals itself. Even as the leaves turn their dying shades of un-green, they are beautiful beacons of rust, burgundy and gold. Mother Nature re-decorating.
My purge continues…
There are two kinds of family, the kind you chose and the kind you don’t. Sometimes the family you don’t instead chooses you. Perhaps you didn’t want to be chosen. Perhaps even in making a chose to have you they didn’t choose you.
I was chosen, but I wasn’t the one they chose. Confused? Well, this is how you become a Rose-Coloured Daughter. You bend, you twist, you shrink, you develop a character which is not yourself. You’re the person you know they want you to be. It’s instinctive.
I was imperfect perfection. I was perfect imperfection. Everything I was, nothing I was; they were the same. Too often I went to bed at night wondering if the next day would be the day they realized I don’t belong there. That day never came. I was very good at playing my role. They still think that character – that shadow of a self, (not even a shadow of my Self) was me.
My gift to my Self and my gift to me is Me.
I’m still un-wrapping it, and I’m delighted in being permitted to receive the gift of Self.
I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.