Winds of change

I hate change.

I hate it more than horse flies at Sunday brunch

I hate it more than being stood up by love.

I hate it more than the memories that insist on visiting in the middle of a happy day.

I am like an animal trapped in iron teeth.

But instead of frantically chewing at my flesh to escape…

i would rather lay down and ‘wait it out’

Even though it may be certain death.

Which is probably why You lined up all this change in one foul swoop.

Pun intended.

My ancestors have said ‘enough is enough’ and decided we’d hit every trigger of my comfort zone.

It’s like being a baby bird who’s afraid to fly… so mother bird has shoved me out of the nest to show me I can do hard things.

Things that scare me.

Things that make me open up and feel vulnerable.

Because these are not truly “hard” things.

These are normal life things.

But I am an creature of great habit and my home tends to be my solace.

No.

Moving is challenging for different reasons than the logistics or expenses.

Those are not hard.

Bones broken by someone you love is harder.

Going somewhere new is not hard.

Fighting off hands that grab to tightly to expose flesh is hard.

I have survived truly hard things.

I have survived horrific sights of violence.

And developed this emotional allergy to trusting, new things, standing up for myself…

But I see… I have greatly undercut my grit in doing so.

I will survive this just like I survived my worst days and be better for doing so.