Friday, February 11, 2011

In which Tryph picks her last daisy

Time ebbs, flows and things always change. Sometimes things that once seemed so perfect in spite of their flaws, suddenly just seem flawed.

When I was a child I, like many other girls my age, would maliciously attack innocent daisies on a near daily basis. I'd pick them and pull the petals off one by one while chanting "he loves me" and "he loves me not" as each petal fell into the wind.

To me, it didn't matter if I had a crush on anyone or not (although as a girl I often had crushes on boys). The "he" in question was always a nameless faceless prince; a far away idea of someone to love me.

Even as a child I didn't have a lot of self worth, love for myself or people who cared about me around to help nurture and foster my development into a strong and confident young woman. So when it came to these daisies, each and every time the last petal would fall on a "he loves me not" I'd always go off in search of another daisy to attack. I'd keep picking and plucking petals until it fell on "he loves me".

I felt the need to hold onto the hope that someone, somewhere could love me with all their heart. Because maybe then, I'd figure out how to love myself.

I find myself as an adult still picking daisies. I don't pick them with the same obsessive ferocity that I once did, but I pick them all the same. In many ways I carry with me the things from my childhood; Habits, ideas, but mostly the scars.

Scars from a mother who put herself first and never saw me for who I am. An uncle who took my innocence and showed me the dark side of humanity. A step father who resented me and wanted me to die. And a girl, myself, who always kept her guard up and was a very lonely loner.

Scars that haunt me daily.


I stand here now with one last daisy in my hand. Still pulling petals and dreaming of my prince. He has a face now, and a name. And I know he loves me, but I know I'm flawed. When the final petal inevitably falls on "he loves me not" I know now that it doesn't mean that HE doesn't love me... it means I don't love me. And until I do...

Well lets just say that this is my last daisy.

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