Roots

Roots. Roots strengthen. Roots expand. Roots last. I have roots. I'm strong. I'm stronger than most. I know this about myself. It is not an opinion, it is just a fact. I force myself to be strong because I grew up in an environment where I needed to be strong. Adaptation is necessary for survival. Strength was an adaptation I had to accept. Bark. Bark peels. Bark holds the burdens of other creatures. Bark can be ripped. I have bark. There have been more times in my life than I'd like to admit when I've been torn. I've allowed others to abuse me. I've absorbed other people's burdens. I've let myself sustain wounds even though I'm stronger than them. And it hurts. It hurts like hell. I can see it happening. I know it's happening. I am completely and utterly aware that it's happening. I am accepting pain from another person. And yet I let it happen. Time and time again, I let it happen. In so many situations, I am strong. In all other situations, I am in control. But I let myself peel. I let myself be used. I let myself rip. And why? I forget that I am strong. I forget that I have the ability to expand. I forget that beyond everything else, I have roots. No matter how strong I am, not matter how long I am able to fight, sometimes, all I need to do is stand on my roots. Roots last. I have roots.