You Name
There will be those who remember me fondly... And there will be those who remember me with resentment. It is not contradictory, it is coherent. Each one awakened in me the reflection of what they sowed. I was not the same for everyone, because not everyone arrived the same. I am not a temple of patience nor an inexhaustible source of sweetness. I am a woman. Complete. Full of moons, storms, harvests and droughts. With those who came with love, I was shelter. With those who came with lies, I was a mirror. With those who arrived with tenderness, I was hotcakes. With those who came to use me, I was sharp. And I don't regret it.
At this age I do not blame others, I do not apologize for having defended myself. I am not interested in everyone speaking well of me, because I did not come to this world to please, I came to live honestly, even if that makes me uncomfortable. The memory of others does not belong to me. If someone remembers me fondly, it is because they knew how to touch my soul with respect. And if someone remembers me with resentment, let them check what they gave, because what they received was the echo of their own gesture. This is who I am: Neither a saint, nor a martyr, nor a storybook heroine. I am a real woman. And what I gave, I gave from my truth. And what I denied, too. And if one day my steps are erased, let the lesson not be erased: # A free woman is not for everyone. Only for those who know how to see with the soul and not with the ego...