Worth

"If you have something to say to me, than just say it." she utters, unable to shake off the feeling of deja vu. Sick and tired of a world filled with misunderstandings from people that all of sudden matter when they really never mattered before.

The feeling is mutual to say the least. They will never call her just to call or strike up a conversation about a topic she can easily relate to. She got used to this idea a long time ago and let it slide as it has several times in her life. They will never include her on the email blasts or evites to God knows where and with whom. No surprise there since she'll hear about it through word of mouth and somehow find her way in. It's not because they're cruel, but because it has never been like that in the handful of years she has known them. Is she bitter? Maybe, but it was just something that would one day pass and neither party would pay much attention to it later anyway.

So, why should it even be worth thinking about now? Well, here's the deja vu. When she was 16-years old, all she ever thought about was being liked by other girls; to be what any normal teenage girl wanted to be: popular. She let it consume her.

It all started with a picture and it led to 2 full years of competitive bullshit for a friendship that didn't even exist to begin with. But teenage girls can be devious little bitches, can't they? And rather than talking it out and "clearing the air," they simply isolated the odd one out and made everything a popularity contest. And in the end, even the friends she once had, left her too. So what was it all worth?

Years later, she finds herself with another group of girls. A group she didn't create, but was formed around her. A group that is by far different from her and yet they somehow make it work to keep the circle well...a circle. She found a friend hidden in the mix and things seemed fine for the most part, but somewhere down the road, it got a lil' rocky. Cliques started to form and she suddenly felt like she was 16 again.

At first, it didn't bug her. I mean, dating best friends didn't mean they had to become best friends. After a while, she started to realize that what she may have missed in her teen years she could possibly gain back as an adult: the fun.

Once the positivity of having "girl friends" came flooding back, she was left with nothing more than a dinky raft with a gaping hole to support her. What she thought she had, she didn't. Girls still smile in your face and stab you in the back. Girls still pick out your flaws and gossip to others about what they think they know about you. Girls want more people to side with them even if it means pushing those that did nothing wrong down. Some girls can still be devious little bitches.

So how does she fix it? Is it even her problem to fix? She wants to nip it in the bud, but unfortunately life is never that simple, is it? People love a good fight. She's been there, done that. Often times, women bicker over the silliest things but never resolve anything because we are stubborn and figure there are other women out there to befriend. It isn't really a difficult conversation to have, but most women would rather treat it like high school and shut down. She's not like most women. She no longer consumes herself with the idea of being popular. She's old enough to know better. She's wondering if the others will learn to just confront it and see where they end up.

Mother

Four plus years ago a woman found herself lost between two worlds: One in which she was trying to work out and the other she never really had to begin with. But as the days grew to weeks and weeks grew to months it became quite clear that she'd have to come clean and admit something that would change everything.

First, it was the brownish tone of the skin that made others suspicious. Then the soft curls of hair started to form. Suddenly, the questions came down on her conscience like a waterfall. She knew she wouldn't be able to hide it much longer.

On the fourth month, she decided to come up for air to tell the truth no matter what it cost her. She may not have realized it then, but it would drown out both worlds that she floated so freely in for the last three years...

It was heartbreaking to say the least to imagine one fall to pieces with a single blow, "It's not yours after all."

It was even more devastating to find the other (happy and utterly clueless), hand-in-hand with someone other than her, standing in front of a department store parking lot. And as she flipped through the album filled with pictures, she couldn't help but wonder how something so small could resemble both of their faces.

It took guts to struggle with right and wrong. It took absolute humility to take on both worlds head on to fix something that broke apart in what seemed like forever ago. But what would it matter in the end if no world would stand by her side?

Except...the only one that she was attempting to build in her mind, somewhere deep down in her confused heart.

The first few years were a mess. Money troubles, separate living spaces, final goodbyes, and not to mention having to go through the motions day in and day out constantly having to remind herself that this was supposed to be for the better; that this was the right thing to do (even though she did not quite see it yet).

She lost a lot along the way. The fighting was endless that at one point she probably even forgot who she was fighting with in the first place. But she definitely remembered who she was fighting for.

She couldn't stop what she started. She couldn't turn back the hands of time and make it tick in her favor. All she could do was push forward. In desperation, she tried to take the next steps without any real means to back her up. She realized half-way in that she was going to need some help, but rather than ask for it she made others pay for it. And so the bickering continued...

She found herself in a world she had never visited before or at least not in a while. A world without a job, without a home to call her own, and without someone holding her and telling her that she wouldn't have to go through this alone.

So she screams...
And so she cries...
And so she sits and dwells on this reality she now lives in.
Making attempts to run away without ever really letting go.

But she definitely remembers who she is fighting for.

Why can't she see that this was never a team effort to begin with?
That she does not need to hold any one's hand when she has a little one holding onto her?
And that this has and will always be a single battle that she can conquer as long as she remembers, "This is not for the worlds I once knew, but for a world I wish to give to my son."