Do you even know how you like your eggs?

Forrest Gump has everyone thinking life is like a box of chocolates but I think it more like an onion, lots of layers.
One day, when you feel like it, make yourself a cup of tea, have a seat, pick a starting point and think. Think about how you have changed over the years, how things you may have be introduced to as a teenager didnt make sense until you were in your thirties. Or how you only came to understand a certain aspect of yourself more recently though you always knew about it. These are lifes layers, the older we get the more self aware we become the more we understand who we are, why we are. It is in our self awareness that we find peace.
We start out in life knowing nothing, we are constantly nudged one way or the other by our parents. We may realize we like/want something different but still our parents nudge back in the direction that suits them. As we get older society begans to shape us. The media tells us what we should be doing, eating, wearing, sometimes we conform, sometimes we rebel. Conformity is the first layer. Its smooth, easy to access does not require any effort or getting your hands messy. You can look at it see what it is and be satisfied. Peel away that first layer and though you havent let go of the things you have been taught, you are really starting to question them. Still you’re not in too deep, its only the second layer, it closely resembles the first. Going beyond the second layer and you start to see that the layers are thicker, deeper if you will. This is where you begin to know you. Maybe you really dont like scrambled eggs, thats just how they were always served to you.
Take the time to peel away the layers to find who you really are. What you like and enjoy. Be who you are without fear of consquence. It does not matter what everyone else is doing or wants you to do. What matters is that you are being true to yourself. boy-eating-breakfast-clip-art-256623

A safe place

She has a black eye, a long red scar across her left cheek and tears in her eyes but her lips curve into a hopeful smile every time she looks at her beautiful baby. She keeps repeating that that she’s doing the right thing, that her baby doesnt deserve this. I dont know if she is trying to convince me that she is a good mother or reassure herself that this is the beginning of things being alright. I just listen.

She was a petite woman. 5’3″, 120. She gave me details of being picked up by a giant, 6’5″, 275. Picked up and dropped, shes had two back surgeries. Chocked, one cannot begin to describe what its like to know you are running out of air. Its hard to know all this can happen because of the simplest of things, a friend gives you two dollars, spending too much time with girlfriends, you were too tired to clean that day.

But that day it was over. She couldnt take it anymore. She is a good mother and her baby does deserve better.