She was.

It’s the middle of the night. She can’t sleep. She lies awake and her demons haunt her. She tells herself over and over to let them go. She prays. She dozes off then jolts awake. The recurring dream. Panic. Sweat. Heart racing fear. She takes in deep breaths trying to slow her heart, she wonders if it might actually beat out of her chest. She tries to swallow, her throat sore from trying to scream. She remembers. She was in the air, flying across the room and then….the explosion, her body breaking, emotions scattered into tiny pieces. She remembers his hands imprinted on her chest. She wraps her hands around her chest giving herself a hug.

She takes a deep breath and realizes she is still on this journey. 

She remembers.

She was.

She is.

She is tenderly picking up each shattered piece, giving it love and putting it back in place. She knows that part of her is stuck in this moment. She is going to heal. She is going to finally release it.

She is finding herself. She is learning to listen to her soul. She is finding HER path.

She is learning to trust herself.

She is in a room with beautiful, inspiring women. She is going to write her story.

She started.

She is.