"bearing an untold story..."

“There is no greater agony
than bearing an untold story inside you.”
― Maya Angelou

i didn't know it
would be this hard...

or this freeing.

managing other people's
perceptions,
impressions,

their "take aways"
about me
had become
a full time job,
with full
time
anxiety...

what do they
think,
what do they know,
what do they think
they know,
what do I think
I know
about what
they think
about me,
based on what
I think they know...or
don't know...

like i said
full-time terror

no trust in a merciful
God,
or a kind universe...

just fear,
all the time
fear of rejection,
fear of judgment,
fear of being seen for
what I'd done
the mistakes I'd made,
attached to past deeds,
rather than the
good I could be doing...

but what I was doing
as I hid behind the false face of
perfectionism,
was not trusting,
being afraid,
tippy toeing around
on eggshells
of pretense,
an impression of
"never better" that was only
a misstep
away from
shattering...

and then it
happened...

and I was the one
to crush
that fragile shell of false
impressions,
of
how I thought
I wanted to
be seen

i did it..

I was the one to
rend the veil of anonymity,
and walk into the
light

no one else...
just me.

I said it

I told my story
in all its messiness and
sharp edges,

with every blemish
and mistake
uncovered,
exposed,
free of spin,
embellishment
or
touch up

just the truth
just my truth...

"The spiritual sense of
truth must be gained, before
Truth can be understood."
- M. B. Eddy

And oh,
how I wanted to understand
the Truth
of my truth...

so I stood,
and I told
the
untold...

I'd been afraid,
I'd doubted,
wondered, fallen
gotten up,
fallen again,
cried,
failed,
prayed,
hoped,
begged,
bargained,
pleaded,
fallen apart,
tried again,
and again,
and again...

found a thread of faith,
clung to a glimmer of hope,
glimpse a shred of light,
lost it,
held on,
given up,
given in,
given Him all
and
felt His
love...

ransomed,
healed,
restored,
forgiven...

it was my story

no,
it was His story....

telling His story
was like giving birth to
the babe of
Life within me

rending the veil of
mortality and
walking into the arms
of The
Beloved..

He is my only
Author
and His story is
the only version of my
being...

bearing His story is

pure freedom,
pure joy...

"I love to tell
the story...”
― K. Hankey