ART OF SURVIVAL
What does it truly mean? It’s simply continuing to exist no matter who or what, has gotten in your way.
Well, I did it! I survived! Every damn bit life had to throw at me, I continued to exist.
However, what is survival, if it was never meant for something meaningful?
Sure, I existed but did I allow myself to truly live, to be happy, to feel deserving of anything?
I don’t really believe I did. For years, my only thought was I needed to survive for my children. For their futures. But now, I want to survive for me.
Now that my memories have all been written down, I’m somewhat relieved. Lost in the burden of secrecy I’ve held onto for so long. I wonder, when all is revealed, what will they think? Will they see me differently?
No, I think they will see me for me, for who I really am. A woman who did what was necessary. A woman who lived a life filled with struggles but made something of herself for them.
I need to survive for me. I need to live. I don’t want to leave this life without having more. I might not be deserving, but I sure in the hell want to fight for it.
My children have won the battle. By forcing me to see my life isn’t over, they gave me something to actually live for. In return, I will give them this. They need this as much as I do now.
I’m not sure what the outcome will be, and I don’t know if I am strong enough to fight this final war, but I want to. No, correction. I will. I’m going to find the strength.
I am going to go into this next battle swinging and kicking and telling the world to fuck off.
I want to live! I want to be happy!
I want to finally be free!