The four walls changing of time

The marred door is heavily made of wood. A handle smooth made of opal and cold to the touch. I look at this door full of grace in wonderment and without ease. I slowly grab the handle, feeling the smoothness, looking at the changing colors with astonishment. I turn the colors while I look at the flaws of the door. The door has cracks and pictures marred in the dark oak wooden frame. Opening the door wide I feel anxious in the pit of my belly at what I will find. I see four walls full of moving scenes. On the floor are beautifully done ceramic tiles. I walk in to investigate loving the clicking of my heels on the tile, a beat to my destination of the room.

Walking to the first wall I touch the moving pictures of good and brightness. A nostalgic feeling that radiates through my fingers. The goodness of being a mother and wife to a good man, the laughter and smiles that come with it. Watching myself climbing mountains, seeing waterfalls with a feeling of peace and pure joy. Remembering the rushing water going through my fingers and the coldness on my toes. Seeing the many fashion choices that I so loved putting together to make something beautiful for others to see. A way to bring brightness to my own soul. The feeling of pride when everything turned out so perfectly in the mirror.

Keeping my fingertips on the wall of good I unknowingly turn my head to the wall that is of stilled pictures of so much heartache and pain. Unwillingly my feet take me over to this wall that grips my heart in fear. I know what is on this wall, and I don't want to relive the traumas of these parts of my beautiful life. I see a mass of deaths of fur babies, grandparents, aunts, parents, children, and grandchildren. I have to explore people taking advantage of my body on a hard floor surrounded by four walls of worn and cracked wood in an attic. A feeling of desperation and affliction in a broken heart by so many people who were supposed to love me. A feeling that I'm suffering in grief all over again, feeling empty inside, feeling like someone is ripping my heart out of my chest. I can't touch this wall just looking in pain, agony, and anguish. I look on as tears roll down my face realizing the pain in my very essence of who I am. After thinking that in such suffering I had lost my childlike self, inside the innocence of happiness jaded in my inner child.

I almost ran away from the wall to get to the next wall, this wall having so many pictures of healing an embodiment of who I am meant to be. I feel the ease palliate through my head down to my toes. I watch as the journey runs across my eyes in awe. How can someone live through all that bad and mend oneself of the cracks that were created in my soul. A calmness rushes over me as I realize I did a purification of my heart and mind. Hard work is seen in the very inside of my psyche of my perception of who I am to become. Watching as the scene shows me going through therapy and an invigorating sense of huge strides of mending a thought process of unforgiving and judgmental mentality on the person who I thought I was. Being overly critical and self-condemning and being released into the new empowerment of this persona.

In a smile I turned to this fourth wall in a room I felt such trepidation to now feeling a love for myself. I glide my whole arm on both sides of this last wall to feel the power I have been given. A new placement within myself is an overpowering satisfaction of self-esteem, of positivity. A completely new ego of achieved self-worth in the woman I became. A love of my body, mind, and soul; I realize this version of a better me through the experiences and understanding of why I became this woman.

I walk out of the room with a slight smile on my face. The clicking of my heels again reminding me I'm beautiful and so is my journey through life. I close the door understanding I cannot forget my past, but I can overcome and accomplish great worth, with a forgiving thought of who I was in the past. In that I can smile big and be proud. I shut the door letting the four walls envelope my very being not wanting to let go of the swirling colors of me on the handle. I do let go because I know the next part of my journey will be so beautiful and bright.