I carry the shame

Of the impoverished upbringings of my parents. Abuse and neglect. I can’t wear stained or torn of illfitting clothes when I leave the house. We don’t do that.

I carry the shame 

Of the unwanted weight on my body.

Not maintaining my appeal for men and equally, for caring what anyone thinks of me, especially men.

I carry the shame 

Of not fixing my anxiety

Of passing it on to my child

Of not being enough.

I carry the shame 

Of staying stuck

Of not rising, using my talents for more.

Of not burning brightly like they all say I can.

I live my shame within my large body 

In the darkness of pain and of blame.

It is embodied in my name.

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  1. I can so relate to this. I send energy to our rising above the shame.

    • This is why I know I need to write my most “shameful” truths. So that other people can relate and feel a little better about feeling bad. I just doubled my anti-anxiety meds yesterday because I’m worth not always feeling that way. We have eachothers backs Miss Cindy!

  2. Kathy Bosin Reply

    You are an example of rising above it. You don’t, I hope, have to carry that weight forever. It’s not your fault. You did nothing wrong. You are a light for the rest of us and for the world. Stand tall – you are making it better for those behind us. XO I/we believe in you. Thank you.

    • It is so wonderful to know that my oldest blogging friend keeps her eye on me. Yes, I am leading by example and I know it’s not my fault and I would love to escape from shame’s tendrils eventually. I remember many things you’ve said. Thank you for saying them.

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