She laughs without fear of the future

*Really, she laughs despite fear of the future.

As I close the door on this chapter of my life, my ‘lasts’ are beginning to quieten, for now at least. I turn to open the next door, but am struck by an abundance of ‘firsts’ banging loudly, impatiently waiting for me to move on.

In the dark stillness of night, when my thoughts run away with themselves, I feel as though those ‘firsts’ will tear down the door and trample me in their eagerness to begin.

I can feel the panic and excitement mingling within me, creating a cocktail of emotions that I can’t control. And so, I write.

Those who know me understand that spoken words too often fail me. Emotions bubble from my heart to mouth and tear ducts. Blinding my thought process and strangling my voice.

But, when I write, my mind is clear. The words flow from my pen to a page or through my fingertips onto a key board. I can take the time to articulate my feelings, I can give them each the respect they deserve in their most raw state whilst also being able to hone and morph them into what I want them to be, into what I want them to say.

Before I realised the magical authority a pen gave me, my emotions governed what I said or rather, what I couldn’t say. I do not claim mastery of this skill, I still regularly feel like a hopeless vessel governed by feelings, fighting to express myself. However, whereas before I may have been stifled for days by an unmovable thought, I now write it down. I cannot be rid of it, but I can take it from an all-consuming position in my head and put it somewhere else. Keeping it safe while I process.

Those words, the scribbles on a page don’t always come beautifully. They aren’t polished sentences that poetically express my inner most desires or frustrations. More often than not, they start awkwardly. Clunky mix matched phrases flung onto paper.

But slowly, as my heart fits back together and my brain emerges from a fog, I can piece the words together. I can make sense of things in a way that would be impossible if not for that pen and paper.

This moment in my life feels shrouded in uncertainty and vulnerability.

If I let it, my heart skips too many beats as my thoughts fret.

If I let it, panic will creep in, latching it’s cold claws onto each and every dream.

If I let it, the desire to be in control will destroy all that I have worked so hard for before they even begin.

But, therein lies my power. My response to what happens has, and always will be, within my control.

If I let it, I can move through this next phase with some grace and lots of excitement. Without floundering under all of the upcoming ‘firsts’ whilst also taking the time to look back at my 'lasts'.