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If I had my life to live over I would be less afraid:
To speak up.
To speak out.
To speak the hard stuff.
To break silences, everywhere.
To be myself, truly.
Of the consequences of being myself.
Of speaking out.
Of telling my story.
Of asking for what I wanted,
instead of just settling for what was offered,
believing that was all I was worth or deserved.
To be alone.
Of the outcome.
Of my writing hurting my family.
Of how people would respond to my history.
Of asking for help.
Of taking help that is offered.
Of standing up for myself.
Of walking away.
Of never making it.
Of being a failure.
Of making a fool of myself.
Of believing in myself.
Of saying NO.
Of saying YES.
Of following my own path.
Of believing that I am led.
Of believing that life is THAT magical.
Of the grief that lives inside of me like an ache and calls itself HOPE.

© 1998 Dora E. McQuaid