Life behind the veil; courage, personallity and succes hardly anyone sees.
There are a lot of people who don't really understand me. Sometimes this gets hard, when you don't want to explain.This is one of the reasons why I steer clear of people who demand explanations, whether they are entitled to them or not. Although the major issue here might be that I dislike arrogant demanding people. Yet there are also people who mean well and really do want to understand and help you. There I end up between anvil and hammer. I would like their understanding, almost never their help and I certainly do not want them to know.
I do not want them to know what? well, my abusive history and what it meant to me and how it enveloped me. Sometimes I do want them to know about my effort and courage, how I have struggled and deal with it, how far I have come. This would also explain so much about the person I am today, which is also something I would gladly share. Yet all of this stays behind the veil that I cast when I hid away the abuse. There simply is no knowing without knowing.
I find it hardest of all to hide away the success I sometimes experience, or just the things I do that make me proud, this blog for instance. I like to write in general, but poems are my speciality. People who know me fairly well sometimes ask me why I never write any more, why I only bundled some poetry in one book and left it at that. I could bite off my tongue when that happens. The answer is I didn't stop. In my later poems I wrote extensively about my experiences, emotions and the healing process. After a while I bundled them under pseudonym and presented this second book to the people I first went to see for help. Their organisation bought a hundred of them, to distribute to others new to the survival. They also wanted to use its content for their own material. I find it heart warming that there are people out there who might find recognition or even consolation in stuff I wrote. But that is all in the life behind the veil. On the 'right' side my pen idles as pages remain barren and leave me nothing to show for.