Some days I don’t recognize her…the face in the mirror staring blankly back at me. There is no spark in her eyes, no fire in her spirit. She has given up, thrown in the towel, waved the white flag. Some mornings I wake up and feel intuitively that it isn’t going to be a good day. As much as I believe everyday is a good day, only some are better than others, it becomes a chore to be positive. Some days that burden, that rock hanging on my neck feels so heavy. Those are the days that the fighter in me steps up to bat. This fighter takes over because she refuses to be silenced, she won’t allow someone to disrespect her, she refuses to allow her creativity and imagination be stepped on. I like her. She has guts. She will defend and ask questions later. She has an ally, the fighter has faith in God. Even though times may get tough the fighter has faith that God will give her wings to fly, he will be a light in the darkness, arms cradling her in the cold.
I am a fighter, I am creative, I am smart, and with God I am me.