Strength
She stood unable to move.
Her body covered with a rigid second skin
from the top of her head to the soles of her feet.
It allowed no movement.
She could only stand and look straight ahead.
She didn't know how long she had been standing there
- it seemed forever.
Her arms were outstretched with a gesture of pleading,
but she couldn't move them.
Her mouth wanting to plead for release
but was unable to speak
Only her eyes showed the fear,
the soul wrenching pain and
the consuming desire for release
which went to her very soul.
She had seen glimpses of many people
who had tried to help her -
they had always been stopped
by the second skin which she wore.
They had never been able to make a dent
in the "armor" in which she had been encased,
and they had gone away
with out being able to release her.
They did not understand what it took
to penetrate that shell which held her.
They were chased away by the voice
which came from the speaker on the chest
which proclaimed that she had chosen
to be where she was and to leave her alone.
They did not look into her eyes
and see what was really there.
There came one,
who ignored the speaker,
who looked into her eyes
and saw what was really there.
He knew how to remove the second skin,
and started to release her
- always watching her eyes.
As the skin started to open the smallest crack
he saw a look of absolute panic,
and he understood the terror which he saw.
She had worn that skin so long
that she believed, with it gone,
she might die or that she
would have no strength
and would not even be able to even lift her head
from the ground when she fell.
She had come to depend on that hated skin,
she believed, for her very life.
He talked to her,
and told her that there was another way,
to replace the hated skin with a softer one,
which would give her the same kind of support,
but which could be removed a
little at a time as her strength grew.
If she chose this new skin
it could give her time to develop
the belief in her strength.
He knew it was there,
but she had been held so rigid
for so long
that she did not have that conviction.
He told her that his desire
was to see her happy and free.
The new skin would replace the old one,
and that together they would decide
how and when to remove the pieces of the new skin
as the areas underneath were understood to be strong.
She had always seen control
as the "safe space" yet desired
to not be in control,
a control which had always controlled her
and would not voluntarily let her go.
She needed someone who could take the load
of responsibility and decision from her.
Someone who would understand her current need
to be seen as strong on the outside.
Someone to provide a safe space
where she was "not allowed" to be in control.
Where she could safely strip away
the facade of strength she presents to the world
and be the soft passionate woman that she is,
but isn't allowed to be.
she needed a place to explore herself,
explore her needs and wants,
where her fantasies of not having to be strong
were a reality.
Where someone would "control" her
with a strong gentle hand and a loving heart,
until she understood that her "soft" side was in fact
stronger and tougher than her "strong" side.
He explained to her that relationships
grow and change and evolve, as do all living things,
and that any relationship which did not grow was doomed
to stagnate and wither.
He told her that when relationships were open and honest
from both sides they always grew and flourished.
They took on a life of their own
and supported and nourished their creators.
They became stronger with age and maturity,
but the shape they took came naturally
and could not be predetermined.
They might look like a pair of intertwined rose bushes
so interlaced you could not tell one from the other
or a pair of stately oaks standing side by side with their
crowns touching and creating a special space around them.
He understood how hard it is to let go of
the "safety of being in control" and that "being in control"
was an insideous monster because
regardless of how much control you had
"it" was never enough.
So he bound her body gently
from the top of her head
to the soles of her feet
and the skin which she passionately hated
and equally passionately loved
for the sense of security it seemed to give,
that had imprisoned her for so long,
gradually disolved away.
She was still bound but the bindings
were soft and placed with loving care
and she knew they were there
to support her not confine her.
She now knew that the being bound
could open the doors
and create a space of freedom
or be a space of fear, darkness and pain.
She discovered that control
and being in control were two different things.
"Control" could be as soft as a kitten
or as hard as diamonds as the need arose
and that "being in control" was like an egg
- hard and brittle on the outside
- easily damaged -
with nothing solid on the inside for support.
She discovered that her fears
of not being enough
were just that - fears -
with no substance or validity.
She learned that the bonds
that now held her were soft and gentle
and were not bonds at all.
They were a soft shimmering gown
that clothed
her strength
her softness
and her love.
Written By Searcher
~ NKZ/NCZ/NMZ ~
~~~ Twain's Design's @ 2004 ~~~
