A blog called, Brave Girls Club, has a wonderful story about wearing signs, or the lack there of at;
As I pondered which signs I am hiding or what I am not revealing it occurred to me that a sign was hung upon my neck, when my father’s truth hit the daily news.
His past hung heavy around my neck.
A sign I did not want to wear.
His sign and my sign were puzzle pieces, they went together, he was a pedophile and I was his victim.
Yet the sign wasn’t hung upon me until a niece spoke up and her words matched my feelings, and now I had a sign as proof.
What an awkward, clumsy, shameful, disgusting sign, I had to wear.
It was this sign that all turned away from, old friends became strangers, acquaintances dodged me, my sign didn’t fit into many relationships.
The sign entered into the room before me, it over shadowed any cute outfit I wore, there was no way to hide or dress it up, It was exposed.
Sadly some signs are not given the same considerations as most.
In the first blushes of wearing this sign, I stood alone.
Me and my new sign not knowing how to stand, to walk and carry myself with this new found history, I soon seen how I was someone to steer clear of.
It is so interesting that some signs gain many friends and tons of support, while other signs are shunned and feared, their darkness too dark to approach.
Standing up in those early days, with the weight of the devastation upon me, the sign nearly collapsed my spirit.
Surprisingly that by having had to walk alone, I have more strength, not less.
I still wear my sign, it will not go away, it and I are one, my past is me, and I am it.
Some signs are the gateway into self.
I M Perfect lady 