I plummeted into this world three weeks late, and my bones formed too short. I’ve always felt that branding of a misfit, or perhaps a cursed child. I’ve always felt the sunshine caress my face then run away, leaving room for the storm that’s always dwelt inside of me. I don’t know how I got here, or why I’m allowed to breathe.
The fact that I’m alive is a blessing in disguise.
Words have always flown naturally through my brain and out of me. Whether it was to comfort someone or courageously stand up to the most intimidating of bullies. I was never afraid to speak to save the soul of another. My body served as the toughest of shields, and my voice pierced injustice like an elegant, valiant sword. I never really considered myself a superhero, but I do live to save us all.
The fact that I’m alive is a blessing in disguise.
I donned the robes and carried the candle like a torch, yet I spent nights cursing His name, rejecting the concept of eternal anything. Sometimes I could feel my skin burning as I stroked the beads of my rosary as if Mother Mary knew the reality. I confessed once to my priest that I didn’t deserve to believe, but my words were met with a crushing silence across the thin wall.
The fact that I’m alive is a blessing in disguise.
I don’t believe in many things, but I do believe that actions speak louder than words. It’s not enough to say you care, but rather you should show it through your kind and generous gestures. Whether it’s a dollar at the checkout lane to help the homeless pets or a monthly contribution to provide equal education, I never hesitate. It’s not just money, it’s also in the cards I send or the simple moment of holding a door for a stranger. I’ll do it all with a warm smile, loving heart, and genuine compassion.
The fact that I’m alive is a blessing in disguise.
I’ve swallowed pills by the handful. I’ve kept knives under my bed. My arms and legs tell countless stories of hopeless days when I desperately wished for something physical to take away the constant emotional pain. I’ve drunk until my face grew numb, driven cars while too intoxicated to even see. Yet, I wake each morning to find myself still standing, my lungs taking in another day.
The fact that I’m alive is a blessing in disguise.
The moment that I held you in my arms, I knew that you were special. I wanted nothing more than to protect you forever, from the darkness and the storms. I spend most evenings in disbelief that I’m a mother. I brave the weather inside myself because loving you will forever be worth the fight.
The fact that I’m alive is a blessing in disguise.
The day she left made me feel like life was over, that I’d lost myself again. I’d spend nights standing on that desolate bridge just imagining the impact of a deadly fall. Yet, eventually, my salvation entered in someone completely different, the truest kind of friend, the cathartic clicking of the keys, the release of sharing my story. Though I still walk the line between life and death, there’s something just so different, something that beckons me to stay.
Maybe the fact that I’m alive will always be a blessing in disguise. Or, could it possibly be that the blessing has always simply been buried deep inside of me? Perhaps those feelings of antipathy were nothing more than just a dream. I think that, maybe, I’ve been the disguised blessing all along, just by being me. I may not always love myself, but I care about every single particle in the world around me. I’ve always felt that I’m a curse, yet that everyone else has beautiful blessings deep within. I think that, in our own way, we are all just tiny blessings, spreading goodness with the simple, sometimes invisible, gifts that we were given.
Originally Published on Thought Catalog
Feaure Image by John Canelis on Unsplash
