From my earliest memories I was an unwilling audience to his savagery. Later, as unwitting bait, I witnessed an explosion of unbridled rage destroy the first person to ever love me. I survived, full of cracks, fissures, and fractures. Pieces missing, pieces stepped on with my own feet. None of which I could see. None of which I even knew.
So, I joined a cult and raced into a marriage that did not match who I needed to be. After my escape from the cult and the marriage, I fell in love again and nearly drowned. The fractures and cracked pieces of myself could no longer be ignored or explained away.
Thus, I began my journey to pick up those pieces and rearrange them as I sought to also seal the fractures. That journey ended and I emerged rebuilt to travel on a new path – new name included.
So now, when I look in the "mirror", am I authentic or am I an illusion of my own mind? Have all the fractures really been sealed or am I still leaking what it takes to thrive? Am I still broken or am I sufficiently repaired?