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Journal Writing

Journals: who here still has their old ones? Who here still writes in one? Just came across one of my old journals dated 4/2001-4/2003 ... Reading through it, recognizing how much I've grown, yet also seeing how some things just don't change.

Here's an old piece:

Emotionally naked
I stand before you
As I unveil
Piece by piece
Every layer of insecurity that conceal the self I like to call me.

Shameful thoughts
Mixed emotions
Secret desires
Flowing through my ocean
Waves clashing
Voices asking
Why am I still standing before you as my world begins unmasking?

Intentionally used
Mentally abused
Falsely accused.
Not guilty I plead
As my soul is being imprisoned.

I stand before you
Slowly exposing
The mental illustration
Hiding in disguise
Underneath this coverup image.
The sincere smile
The untainted look
The high level of self confidence
That along with my innocence you took.

Feeling like a hit and run
Helpless and deserted.
Banking in and cashing out
As I stand before you, do you know what I'm taking about?

The yelling, pulling and shoving.
Me crying, pushing and longing.
For my vulnerability was at war
With the blinded mentality
Asking myself
Why am I still here?

But if only you knew.
The nights I've spent crying
Little by little
Emotionally dying
Tears dropping
Living in terror
As I fears for my sanity
Not understanding why.

I trusted, loved and believed.
Yet I was used, neglected and deceived
With words being slowly injected
Releasing unheard screams
As I was being mentally molested.

Emotionally naked
I stand before you
As I unveil
Piece by piece
Every layer of insecurity that conceal the self I like to call me.

Circa Fall 2002


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I look away  but not before stealing a glimpse of the reflection staring back  Sad brown eyes full of pain and sorrow  lies of yesterday  and worries of tomorrow unanswered questions prancer in my head like ballerina dancers pirouetting in never ending circles challenging  who I was then  and who I am now at one point  young and naive  so quick to believe  and so easy to deceive falling for everything  and yet now everything is falling apart. a part of then  still lingers within and mingles with  what has become and no one knows  what it really is things aren't always  what they seem to be too caught up to really see  the turmoil inside of me.

This is me ...

Hola! For those who don’t know me, I am Yvette! I am a mother, wife, daughter, sister, aunt, friend, but most importantly, I am ME. I have a love for reading and writing, long walks, and taking pictures. I am a family type of girl, meaning my family comes before anything and everything. Family – the ones meant to love and be there for you through it all. Because you don’t walk out on family, even when they walk out on you. They say it’s taboo to talk about domestic violence and sexual assault, yet it happens. I won’t say I am a victim, but I will say I am a survivor. I am not what has happened to me. I am what I choose to become. Life has been a bit rough, but it has also given me many blessings. I’ve learned to smile through the tears, and appreciate the gift of love. I’ve learned to be strong even when I’ve had every reason to crumble. I have fallen, but like Maya, I will continue to rise.