Forget You, I’m Not Broken!

celebrating successIt hurts me in the center of my being
when people insist they are broken.
I get all riled up when the beautiful souls
that you are
glamorize being shattered inside.
I’m actually offended by this ideal
this new meme
it’s a song
a shallow Facebook image
for everyone to ‘like’
or ‘love’
a quote for us to comment on
a poem said with a <sigh>
and maybe even some dramatic
back of the hand to your forehead.

This trivializes what really happens
It steals your energy
it takes your drive
wears you down
and stops you
from overcoming
discarding what was
absolutely done to you.
We should not cherish the damage
done by evil acts.
We should not elevate suffering
done by others to an ideal.

abuse
crime
consent violation
abandonment
neglect
even horror
whatever we want to call these things
is despicable in my view.
I’m not despicable
nor are you
and you and you.

I fight my own fight against suffering
caused by depraved and villainous demons.
I cannot say this strongly enough.
I reject anguish as identity.
I refuse to accept that this is me
No, no, no and NO!
I will not accept that
ugly, malevolent assholes
took a permanent marker
to my essence.

I’m selfish.
I want your refusal too.
I want company on this path
friends on my journey
a powerful demonstration
with signs and banners
that proclaim
Neener, neener, neener”
“You lose”
“I win.”

I say fight
throw this off
don’t cherish the hurt.
It hurts, it truly does
to be sucker punched
in the center of your being.
At first, it feels like a raw sore
in your essence.
Later, a familiar companion
that aches and aches and aches some more.

Refusing to be broken also hurts.
Fighting a fight for your life is difficult.
But living in the wrongness of
what was done to you and me
is harder
hurts worse
and lasts til infinity.
In the end
the work it takes
to shed the damage
hurts less
much less.
That’s a promise.

I’ve thought long and hard
on how to answer the critics
of my take on brokenness
how it offends people who are broken.
Finally, I am shouting
It’s a choice.
Your choice.
Mine is to fight for my right
to live a full and very rich life
no matter what was done to me.

Forget you,
I’m not broken.
It’s a choice.
I choose to be unbroken.
Please join me
in my revolt.

Contact me to reach for your version of wholeness.

Email: agentledrlaura@mail.com

Telephone: (615) 464-3791

©2016 by Laura Coleman, Ph.D.  All rights reserved.

 

7 responses

  1. Just wondering, do you prefer honestly or whatever makes one feel good?

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    1. I prefer honesty. I also prefer dignity and fighting for your life. I also believe I am not what happened to me.

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      1. If we are not the sum of our experiences and choices, then what are we?

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      2. Of course we are the sum of our experiences. It’s the way we frame things in our minds. The story we tell ourselves about who we are that causes some people trouble, it’s the meaning we give to how we feel that I’m talking about.

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      3. And this poem frames it in denial. And I found it stuck a unpleasant cord with me. I am, I was, I’ve grown…not a I am not. The more one denies the more it grows. Acceptance is the way out and it does open the door to choice, to being able to make a different choice. To be able to say, I was and now I’ve grown.

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      4. I don’t see it that way. But I appreciate your point of view.

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      5. Ever see the meme that goes something like everyone remembers when you do wrong but not right? Well, people tend to remember the negative more. Memory tends to take short cuts and reduce it to its core. So, if you take out all the negative words in your poem, all the ‘not’ words, what people will remember is a vastly different picture than I belive you wish it was.

        Like

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