The Nightlight

People have never understood my irrational fear of the dark.

I was always chastised for being a grown woman with a nightlight.

I was ridiculed for carrying a knife on me somewhere as “safe” as the grocery store.

I flinched when people hugged me.

I cried when no one was watching.

I still feel his hands on my throat, squeezing.

I didn’t ask for this.

I didn’t ask to feel fear everywhere I go.

I didn’t ask for the nightmares.

I didn’t ask for everyday to be a struggle to survive in my own head.

My own memories, my own thoughts are my greatest enemies.

My own thoughts are what will end me.

So I stop them.

Stop.

No.

I am more.

I am more than he is.

I am more than the nightmares.

I am more than this fear.

It cannot control me.

Unless I let it.

So I dare to sleep with the nightlight off.

I dare to train my mind and body to be prepared.

I train myself to think happy thoughts.

I am beautiful.

I am more.