I need to find the beautiful things hidden under all the ugly parts of my life. Both in the past and present. The light I held in my childhood soul has weakened. But I’ll never forget what it gave me.  

The feeling of my mother’s fingertips tracing my eyebrows whenever I felt sick.  

Never wanting bedtime stories to end. Knowing that my parents were down the hall to save me from any bad dreams.  

Running to the front door when my father was home from the firehouse. The comforting scent of smoke on his clothes.  

Asking how my older brother’s day was, patiently waiting for when it was my turn to grow up.   

In middle school, I saw and felt things that still scare me today.  I would sit in the school bus, pressing my face against the cold glass of the window. Watching raindrops match the tears streaming down my cheeks.   But certain friends I met throughout those years are my lucky stars. I wished for ones who would understand me. People who enjoy hysterically laughing with me for no reason.  Friends who sit in silence with me when I don’t want to say anything. To just be in their presence is enough. I found them and I hope there are more in the future.  

In high school, I fell in love with poetry. Not only did I discover a talent, but I discovered myself.  A raw version of me that was ready to speak for her mind, heart and soul.  And now, college so far has been the most life changing period. For both good and horrible reasons.  I’ve found the fun in reading again. Each page I turn, I’m pulled deeper into a magical experience. I can escape those days in which I feel so low and lost. 

Some people have hurt me, but never said anything after. The fact that they will stay in my life, possibly forgetting the pain they caused is even harder.  

However, I still see the beauty. It’s the strength I’ve gained. Yes, there is pain that runs through my heart when words are left unsaid. But, the anger I feel is not bad. It reminds me that I don’t deserve this silence.  I used to think someone had to listen if I wanted to be heard. But sometimes I can’t rely on others. That’s okay, because from now on, I will always listen to myself. Even if I need to say no, I’ll still care to listen.  

My future will be different than I thought it would be a few years ago. That doesn’t mean the things I imagined won’t happen though.  

When I have my own house, I’ll have the white kitchen with navy blue accents that my mother and I pictured in our minds.  

The poems that I’ve written and shown no one will all be in a book.  

I will find the light. And writing this is just the beginning.