Like the scoliosis physically twisted, tangled and mangled her spine, cutting her down, making her smaller than she really was
So did the self-doubt, the anxiety and endless critique.
She was never good enough, smart enough, pretty enough.
But then it started to change.
Slowly but surely, the shrouded, twisted layers of lies straightened, evened, to reveal something
Finally. Gone was the meek church mouse who didn’t question.
Who always took the blame.
Let you tread all over her to feed your own ego.
She stands taller. Her voice is stronger, clearer — and she won’t rest.
You can have the last word, but you can’t cut her down or keep her grounded
in your own misery.
Because soon my friend, she’s going to fly.