home

I looked back.

And I didn’t turn into a pillar of salt.

I looked back.

When I escaped and I knew I had,
I stopped in my tracks.
It was a night just like this.
The moon was full.
The stars were bright.
The night was cold.
But I was free!
I hadn’t felt this feeling in a long time.

The outer freedom finally aligned with my inner one. I was free. Very much alone. Very much afraid. But very much free!

I was suddenly struck with the seriousness of the moment. This was trauma at its finest! This is what crisis looks like! For I was in an in-between place. I was no longer in the place of my captivity. But I hadn’t yet found my new home. I was between my cell and my promised land.

I looked back and saw the warmth, the provisions, and the securities of what I’d left. What I’d rejected.

My heart knew, with a huge kind of delicious terror, that I had just launched a terrifying but necessary adventure.

There was no turning back. I was an escapee. I had openly defied my prison. To go back would only make my imprisonment worse. My liberation was public. There was no wishing it never happened. It was done.
Irreversibly done!

So here I was in the wide expansive wilderness. It was dark. Only lit by the moon. No direct light. Only reflected. And it was to remain so for a long time. Longer than I expected.
In fact, darkness became my temporary home.

If you’d like to own all of my Sophia drawings, which include the story behind each one, you can buy my book, The Liberation of Sophia here

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