Searching for Myself

“He’s safe and sober now, no need to worry.
It’s time to work on you now.”
But when I turned to find myself,
It seemed she’d packed and left town.

 When had I lost her? When did she leave?
And why didn’t I even notice?
Had I lost someone so vital to me,
Living in ignorant bliss?

 “Take care of yourself. Work on self-care.”
But where was “I” so I could start?
Was there anything left of me without him?
All I had were pieces of a broken heart.

 So where would I start the search for myself?
Do I just pick up a hobby or two?
I need something more that leads me to truth,
Reminds me of who I am in you.

 So, not just for me, but to glorify you,
I’ll take up the pen and write.
Slicing through darkness, confusion, untruth,
This pen is my sword for the fight.

 I don’t know where I lost myself,
In busyness? In him? I wish I knew.
But the first step to rediscovering her,
Is knowing she can only be found in you.

When my husband relapsed and then went to rehab, I heard over and over from multiple people that I should use this time to work on myself. But I quickly realized that I wasn’t even sure who I was anymore to be able to start that process. Somehow, in my married life, I had allowed my life to become all about going to work, coming home to watch Netflix, and waiting for my husband to get home from work. I don’t blame my husband for this “loss of myself” as much as I blame myself for not taking time and effort to invest in myself. I was so caught up in the daily grind that I forgot to have a life outside of that too. I’m still in this process, as you can see by this poem, but that’s also why I’m trying to be intentional about writing again. Now is my time to invest in myself.

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