Real.Life.Woman.Write: Stop Domestic Violence!

Hey Lady,

I struggled to write this because it forced me to be honest about the fact that sometimes I'm not superwoman. Sometimes I AM vulnerable. And at some point, I did allow myself to be on the ground, looking up, wondering when the punches were going to stop and when would I start to recognize myself again... But I imagine to some degree, every woman has begged this question of herself at some point about some situation-- and that is why I am now bold enough to put it on paper and share it. So... I hope it inspires somebody to DO SOMETHING besides stay where they are today because of yesterday's feelings. For me, that wasn't good enough. And I hope that for even ONE woman who reads this, it's not good enough for her, either. Be blessed!


 

Last lifetime, I was in love… It was the kind of love that filled my heart with more joy than there are stars in the sky. This was the kind of love that even your dreams can’t contain—because it stretches too wide and dives too deep. He was a king. And it wasn’t just me that loved him… See, he loved me back—even made me his queen. And the love we made was so divine. There were few before him. But when he first touched me, he laid to rest every hand that had preceded his. When he entered me, my cup ran over and out poured every imaginable emotion until all of me submitted to all of him.

Last lifetime, I belonged to him and he belonged to me. Our souls were one and no breath could be had unless it was in tune with the other. We were strong and mighty and unstoppable… until we just weren’t. Something happened… I don’t remember what. But together, in love, we were laid to rest.

I’ve met him this lifetime. And though our lives were resurrected, I’m no longer his queen. He is king of another empire, and now I am his slave. We are very much in love, but only I belong to him. Our love is contained in dreams; because that’s the only place we can be seen. I only imagine his kind touch, though he may stand within plain sight. I hear his gentle words and must decide if they are of this lifetime or memories from the last. As I pick myself up off the floor, bloodied, battered, and bruised… I realize this isn’t love. I’m a queen. And there aren’t enough stars from last lifetime to keep me captive here another night. Last lifetime he was my king. But this lifetime, he ain’t shit.