The joy factor

I put my head phones on and bop around to some random playlist I found and played…

“Its an amazing place to be”, I say while smiling at the reflection of myself in the mirror I was cleaning. My house is warm, my meal is cooked, I have a plan and most importantly, My Heart Is Washed…

It took some doing to get here.

I had heard it all lately. Some was not really said but more suggested by the actions shown. I heard worthless and undeserving and something along the lines of condemned hurt. A lot of times, that just left me thrown on the floor with a million feelings – disbelief being the more prominent. How possible was it that after so long, I still find me here? Has time forgotten that healing thing it was supposed to do? “Get on with it will ya” I would silently shout and wish it would wake up from its slumber and save us all.

This was a new level of tired. I was tired of the tears; I was tired of the empty pep talks I gave myself. I was so tired of all the desperate sms’s sent to the girls - which took forever to compose because I would work hard to dilute the pathetic in them by a joke or two although silently I wished the girls would pick up on it. Hell I was tired of pleading for a brake and I was very close to the point of lost hope.

And now – here I am. Refined I think.

Looking back, I have been taught tough lessons and I have had my priorities tweeked. Also, with the events of the past week, my worth has been defended and I have permanently been stamped with the stamp of approval – not by some guy or some culture made up by god-knows-who, but rather by the essentials in my world, the family I love, the girls who have been there since forever and by this guy who humbly asked for permission to call me and who says he is willing to hear me…

I woke up this morning to the coldest day this year. I still jumped out of bed tho and nearly over worked my facial muscles with this smile I can’t seem to wipe off.

 

“its an amazing place to be”

My hand bag is packed with all the essentials, my books for lesson prep are staked and with the last bite of my breakfast, I hurry down the passage with my heels clicking away with the sound of a women on a mission. If I'm not mistaken, I think I hear too a tune my shoes are playing that seems to make my feet wanna dance and skip on to work.

Hello world – I have returned!