has followed me my entire life.
Symbolizing birth, life, luck, identity,
and synonymous with
Chinese and Japanese cultures; wealth.
Eight symbolizes infinity.
A promise of renewal,
and also a promise of life always
following a cycle; that returns
to you, what you have invested in it.
Eight has also seen a lifetime occur,
in as many times within my spirit.
Eight times I return to myself to bear witness;
to the burning of old, and fertile welcoming of rebirth.
In eight years I have grown, more than I ever could or would have,
had this day, in as many years...not occurred.
This very day, in several of the first eight years-
translated into suffering, hiding, and nightmares.
Today, with eight years worth of perspective,
I stand in remembrance of innocence lost, and honor the woman I have become,
despite and because of my losses.
The passion, the wisdom, the fierceness, the resolve.
My dreams grew so much larger and greater than myself;
because of the lessons I learned having burned to ashes,
picked up my pieces, rejuvenating the simplified remains,
and enlisting the masters' wisdom to be reborn, in each of the last eight years.
Here I am. On the eighth year, when perhaps I may feel sorrow,
for the shattered heart of the 25 year old young woman I once was.
May my tears fall briefly, as I recall how painful that time was.
May I also rejoice, as this eight bends, and I with it-
into the cycle of this life I have created, through my own blood, sweat and tears.
Into this life I was gifted, and have continued to be blessed with-
this life that I wouldn't change a second of, for all the money in the world.
Eight years brought me suffering.
Eight years brought me nightmares, flashbacks,
lost lovers, fits of rage, confusion, anger, despair...
Eight years now brings me perspective, gratitude, growth, faith, sisters and brothers in survival,
my Phoenix, my writing, coming into the love of my cherished family and friends,
courage, thriving and most of all, the woman I am today.
Who I love more than I ever could have if my 25 year old heart wasn't shattered into so many tiny damned pieces.
Eight years it's taken me to live and thrive in my own skin.
Eight years to look at myself in the mirror and feel proud of who is looking back.
Eight years to realize that I have nothing to prove, to anyone but myself.
Eight years to discover that much of my beauty lies in my ability to be myself.
Eight years it's taken me to learn how to unlock so much love in this world, that is meant for me.
Eight years it's taken me to know that I deserve it...to be happy, and to be loved.
Eight years that I can now cherish, as I'm learning to do for the most sacred parts of me.
Eight years not only to believe that I can heal, but understanding it by seeing how I can heal others.
Those same parts that I thought were stolen from me, I had no idea how they would blossom
right out from under my ashes.
Eight years, I survived- and even greater, I am thriving.
