Learning to Fly is dedicated to every woman or man who has grown up with a secret that seems too terrible to share. While it might have felt that way when you were younger, maybe it’s time to take another look at it. This is your life, your burden – and your decision to bear it in silence or not. After all, your first priority must be to yourself, to your own well being and happiness. If this resonates with you, if this affirms something that you have been sort of thinking about for a long time now – then read on.
Please feel free to share your thoughts in the comments section at the end of the poem.
Learning to Fly
No one heard what you tried to say, though the words were clearly spoken.
No one saw your truth, although it was plain to see.
No one felt your pain, although it was tearing you apart.
No one listened when you tried to explain, because the truth was too explosive to hear.
And you, wanting to be obedient, wanting to be good, you learned the lesson of silence – not peaceful quiet, but silence, the uneasy absence of the truth.
Hush, your mother had said, do not speak of such things. Just a dream, she said, you must have been dreaming.
And of course, you wanted to believe her and you did, just for a minute. But you know it is not true, it was no dream.
The truth has a way of making itself known, solid and firm.
Truth is patient, unchanging. Truth bears all questions, all skepticism, all doubt. Rubik’s cube solved: everything about it fits together.
Perhaps you think, some things are better left unsaid. Perhaps you think, no one needs to know this about me.
Every morning you think, I am handling it just fine. Every night you think, there, that was not so bad.
But you are always thinking about it, thinking about it.
Your inner demons hurl themselves against the brick wall so carefully constructed, struggling to surface, kicking with fury and despair.
Impotent rage is ugly and raw; you can wrap it in barbed wire and lock it away, but still, it seems to have a mind of its own, taunting you, reminding you, challenging you.
Exhausted, you hug your pillow, face turned to the wall. No prison cell could be more bleak.
Is this justice, this inverted sentence that daily punishes you, silences you, re-victimizes you? Who are you protecting? And why?
Uneasy, you wait. You wait for something to change. It has never felt right to you, that this is your life, day after day. How could this be fair? And now, finally, you are sure. It is time to stop this passive acceptance. It is time to learn to fly.
Everything has led up to this moment. Feel how your courage rises within you.
Remember your bright future, your dreams, your hard work? It’s all right there where you left it. You can begin again, but first there is something you must do.
Rip it open, blurt it out, lay it all down, loud and louder, tell it all unstoppably, tell it all. Feel how it heals.
Your life calls you, yes, you can hear it now, the life you were supposed to have. Before.