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Imagine a Life

A Piece of Peace

By Carly HoodPublished 3 years ago 3 min read
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Imagine a Life
Photo by Evie S. on Unsplash

I have long considered myself to be a creative individual, often wearing this part of my being externally during my adolescent formative years. My constructed image screamed “unique” by design; my clothes, my hair, and my choices were all being utilized creatively to embody an essence of individuality. Yet, in retrospect, there existed within me a distinct air of conformity – endeavouring to become perceptually entwined with the image of someone who embodied a creative soul, rather than stoking my own intrinsic creative fire.

Alas, while my creative intentions were ambiguous and without direction there still remained potential for artistic growth, but this was quashed instantaneously at age fifteen when I met the human who was to become my abuser for over a decade. This fateful meeting sparked a slow descent of my creative self into a state of temporary decay, altering my life significantly. Very quickly, the fabric formulating my existence became muted; once bright and colorful, emulating my sparkly demeanour, it turned grey and dismal as I began to embody the words spoken over me by this human. I felt weak. I felt pathetic. His cruel rhetoric took a prominent standpoint within my mind. And while on the outside I appeared to be succeeding according to the societal norms laid out for me, as the wife and the career woman (contributing to patriarchal and capitalistic ideals simultaneously), I was dying inside.

Slowly within this timeframe, it became apparent that my psyche was no longer able to provide a hospitable environment for creativity to flourish. Of course, I am aware to the fact that there exist many individuals who succeed in transforming their pain into beautiful works of art; some in fact create their most impressive works during times of darkness and anguish. Yet this was not the case for me; my heart and soul had existed in the aforementioned state of decay for so long that I had become a mere ghost of who I once was prior to encountering my abuser. I was but a shell, a body, and it was evident upon my external being.

It was becoming a Mother that effectively sparked a journey into taking back who I once was, or, more accurately, creating an entirely new version of myself. Perhaps it was the newfound sense of purpose I had to protect and care for her. Or maybe it was the sight of her trust filled blue eyes locked upon my own - safe and content within our gaze. In that time, I began to imagine what the future could hold for the two of us. I visualized the stark contrast of life with and without my abuser, and what life could hold if I were to seek healing - envisioning what it would mean if I could feel hope again.

Eventually these imaginative thoughts of creativity became indicative of where I desired to go into the future, meaning that I could actually foresee time ahead. And so I left. It may not have been in the way I had planned or even upon the first try, but I moved my daughter and I into a safe place where we could start anew. Yet this was merely the first step upon a long road of creative freedom, as his words lived within my soul. To climb out of the depths of a tortuous existence I had to climb in towards the most horrific parts of my psyche – a cavernous abode for misguided beliefs and deep seeded self hatred. I had to deconstruct an entire belief system, formulated in this past life, and accepted non-critically as truth.

And so, with this part of my life detailed as a preface, it was in fact creativity that saved me. It was my imagination that constructed an image of content for the future, a life for my daughter and I that held beauty and love in abundance. Thus, without any question, my favourite creative endeavour falls in utilizing my imagination. It gives me a deep sense of peace to envisage new adventures for our lives. And in using my imagination to design a future deemed fulfilling, I am able to bring new projects of creativity to fruition (I have even started to crochet!). But I had to start with the basics first – and that was in reconstructing my very own soul; aside from forming a child within my womb, it was my highest peace achieving creative venture to date.

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About the Creator

Carly Hood

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