I dream of having problem free skin. I dream of the day food stops being a way to feel good, or comfortable, when it’s just food. I dream of a time when I can run, and play outside like when I was young with out pain. I dream of a time when all this sad heart no longer weighs down my soul. I dream of a time when music will be the theme of our day, and bitterness and anger will be no more. I dream, about a time when dreams are true, and no longer dreams.
How had I come to believe, that the deep things of my heart and mind were not important? Who told me they didn’t care about the things I was feeling or thinking about? The truth of the matter was, that no one actually said I don’t care about what you think or feel, they just never bothered to ask. Never being asked is another way to let someone know that they are not valued. In response to some of the most important people in my life not bothering to pursue my young heart and mind, I believed I had nothing to offer or give that would be of any value to anyone else. I believed I was stupid. I heard it over and over in my heart and head with out a second of doubt of its truth. Not until my twenty sixth year did the truth that I believed about myself reveal it’s self as a lie. There were six of us who met each week, five younger women and our leader, a woman the five of us had approached to ask if she would be willing to let us learn from her and be mentored and guided ...
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