Aviation

There is no easy walk to freedom anywhere, and many of us will have to pass through the valley of the shadow of death again and again before we reach the mountaintop of our desires- 

Nelson Mandela 

I finally arose from the sofa after 72 hours. It was almost as if I had been practicing the ritual of sitting Shiva, all I needed to do was sit a few more days and the liturgy would be finished. But who was I sitting Shiva for... All I could do was thank God it wasn't the floor this time. It's not a place that I ever speak of, nor do I want to return, which is why I had to get up. Besides the stale smell that began to ruminate from me, it was time to shift my position and not from one side of the sofa to the other. Plus Daddy came home, not the man who took place in my creation, but the man that I vowed to spend the rest of my existence with. You know to love and cherish, honor and respect, through sickness and in health, till death do we part. The scariest part of those vows was the death portion. As I've sat on the couch these past few days I've thought about how final death is. But I don't want to stay in that state of mind right now. Let's go back to my husband's arrival. It wasn't butterflies and lace panties as I'm sure he dreamed of when we stood in front of the pastor and our family members just a month before. It was more like a hood chronicle. I had on sweats, straight backs and a hoodie. I mirrored Cleo from Set it Off. I'm ashamed to greet him like this, but even more abashed to admit I hadn't moved from that space on the couch since he left for business 72 hours prior. So today was the day I knew I had to get up if not for me, for him. So that I could begin to unshackle the invisible chains put upon my marriage by the events that took place seems like many lifetimes ago. The cycle of confusion and dysfunction to no fault of our own, that we've both been whisked into. Not only for that reason alone did I need to rise, but I had to salvage the little bit of self dignity that I was holding on to. I knew when I finally got up what I wanted to wear. The sweatshirt that caught my eye last week when I made one of my many returns to H&M. The sweatshirt was more allegorical than anything. The dark birds that shined through the pale pink shirt was symbolic to what I wanted to be, candidly flying spontaneously in any direction but here.

**P.S. These are real events of my life and real struggles. When I sat down to write this I wondered what people would think about me "airing" my dirty laundry, but then I figured it's no different than the blogger talking about their body image issues or their natural hair hate. I'm not doing it for those who have an opinion on how I express myself, I'm doing it for the girl that hasn't gotten off the couch.

Outfit Deets

Sweatshirt: H&M

Jeans: Old Navy

Boots: Torrid (old)

Continue on this journey with me.

Love & Light

xoxo Jane