Today’s prompt asks us to incorporate the theme of rebellion into our poem. Okey dokey!
It was spring of 2017
and I was experiencing
the most generative period of my life
in terms of my art, writing, music, teaching,
My spiritual practices were taking me to new heights,
and I grew excited thinking
about the adventures to come.
I had struck such a good balance
of work, mothering, marriage, and self time
that I weaned myself off antidepressants.
A week after I was completely off my meds,
he dropped the bomb.
I’m done. We’re just not good together.
I’ll always be grateful for the children.
You can’t change my mind.
As I attempted to make sense of his choice,
I realized that he simply couldn’t handle
the woman I was,
and the woman I was becoming.
He told me I wrote too much,
meditated too much,
made too much jun and kombucha.
I sewed too much,
knitted too much,
made too much art,
wasted my time
in frivolous pursuits.
In essence, I was too much,
and the things I did
made him uncomfortable.
He wanted me to shrink.
To stop making art,
to stop writing.
He wanted me to stuff myself
into the role of perfect housewife,
keep the house clean,
the floors scrubbed,
Luckily for me,
my parents raised me
to know who I am
and to honor the voice inside,
the One Who Knows the Truth.
She rose up in my defense.
She refused to let me be put down.
She said, Go girl! Make your art!
Write your words!
Run to the woods!
Be wild and free!
I listened to her.
I stayed true to myself.
This divorce has been one hell of a rocky ride,
and it continues to push me to the last edge of sanity.
I have moments of doubt and fear.
I still grieve the loss of my husband,
our closeness, our friendship
(or what I thought was friendship anyway).
One thing is for sure:
this world would be a far less interesting place
if I hadn’t let the Divine Rebel
save my soul.