The Storms

She stood at the window and watched as the rain started coming down softly. They were calling for a big storm tonight and she welcomed it. Wrapped in her comfy, oversized sweater, she put her arms around herself and leaned against the window casing. The night was dark and there was a chill in the air. The sky started it's beautiful light show and she held her breath for a moment. Oh how she did love a good storm. She loved the smell of a summer rain and the feel of it on her skin. She would dance in the rain normally but not tonight. Tonight was not a dancing night, it was a thought provoking night. Time to think, reflect, soul search and enjoy the quiet silence of solitude.

As the storm quickly approached, so did thoughts of her own storm that she once had within herself. The thunder, much like a harsh word that cut deep. The lightning, that would strike quick and sharp without hesitation. The rain, sometimes softly and other times downpours, like her tears. The darkness of the night, like the darkness she felt when things were a unbearable. The winds, much like the swirling thoughts that are ever present in her mind.

We have external storm warnings that prepare us for the bad weather approaching. They come, they go. Some can last a little while and some can last longer but we are never taught about the internal storms, the ones that start with no warning, the ones that sometimes can last a lifetime. No one prepares us for those. It is like an internal battle, two storm fronts constantly colliding with each other. Neither one willing to give in or give up. Two immovable objects that can shake you to the core.

She has struggled most of her life with these storms. For the most part she learned to tuck them so far back in her mind that they rarely showed their ugly faces. She had learned to acknowledge them, then let them slip back into the far recesses of her mind. They were the worst storms. Full of thunder, lightning and rage. The screams became the thunder and the pain became the lightning. Abusive storms, hateful storms, hurtful storms. The rain became her many tears. That was all she knew for most of her childhood and adult life.

She learned to become one with the storms and accept them as a ritual in her life. She embraced them with a love and tenderness that the storms did not show to her. No beauty in these storms. Not a single beautiful thing came from these. No rainbow after, no sun in the sky, no laughter. She wore the scars of the lightning bolts like a shield of armor. Her only weapon was her voice, which was silenced by the storm keepers. After enough times she began to believe that she angered the storm keepers enough that she deserved the thunder and lightning.

The rain was ever present. Sometimes just a few drops and sometimes enough to fill the deepest hole. She hid those tears but could always let them flow while she was standing in the rain. She knew why she loved the rain, because in the rain no one can see you cry. Time went on and the storms lessened for a while. She was learning to put them away and make them stay away. Until she met yet another storm keeper. One who made the others look like beginners. The storms raged once again down upon her. The cycle continued.

It's strange how when you love someone how much you can forgive, until you can't anymore.

The storms broke her, brought her to her knees and kept her there. She tried to stand but was too weak to do so. The thunder roared and the lightning left scars on her soul. The winds blew and the rain was a constant in her life. But the more it rained the more the thunder and lightning would strike her down. Until one day...

She woke up that morning and some little thing inside her head screamed "NO MORE!" THIS was her awakening. She stood up for the first time on shaky legs and took her first steps. She would fight back and with a vengeance! No longer would the storms consume her, no longer would they hold her down and strike her with such fear. No longer would they own her or her beautiful soul and no longer would they break her. She has worked very hard to heal the wounds and still continues to this day. Yes she still has scars but now they are barely visible. She,has for the most part, forgotten those stormy days. Now in her mind they are no more than passing storms.

She stands tonight at the window and marvels at the beauty unfolding before her. Knowing it will all be a memory tomorrow, but more than that, she marvels at the strength she had to weather a much worse storm for a much longer time. She was forced into a hurricane a battered, beaten, little girl and came out the other side as a true warrior. She still dances in the rain only now, it's not to hide the tears.

*side note* To anyone reading this and maybe has a storm keeper in their life...there is help, you are not alone, you are strong and you are loved <3

Much Love, G.