Love not Attention

I have a story I tell everyone.

Its a story that puts me in a box

It tells everyone about me without me having to say it myself

Its a story I tell over and over again to whoever will listen.

It’s become my identity.

Who I want to be seen as because it brings me sympathy.

I’ve always loved sympathy.

I was unloved as a child and figured out pretty quickly that
being ill brought me attention which I mistook for love.

Smypathy for love.

And I am ready to cast it off.

That’s my intention.

Whats my story.

Im a widow with four children. I was widowed at 46 years of age.

Its the truth.

But its not my truth any longer

I no longer want sympathy as a substitute for love.

I want the real deal or nothing at all.

I intend telling nobody I am a widow any more
I will not speak of it any longer
For one whole year I will tell nobody
In one year I will look back and see if its made any difference

Im leaving space for real love

Not attention disguised as love.

Im living with agency.