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The Emma Kate Collection

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The Emma Kate Collection

  • HOME
  • About
  • Connect
  • Archive
    • She
    • The Letter
    • The Outsider
    • Death and Picnics
    • Hands
    • The Runaway
    • The Wait
    • Them and Me
    • Push
    • Vanishing Shapes
    • The Swim
    • Sometimes...
    • Cocoon
    • The Sum of My Parts
    • Just a Simple Melody
    • Bloom
    • Ids Narda Toomur
    • Dear Maggie
    • The Passenger
    • Tips of My Toes
    • Secrets
    • The New Kid
    • Code Blue
    • Home Sweet Home
    • The Jacaranda Tree
    • Too Much to Camambert
    • Nanu Nanu
    • Unexpected Love
  • In The Spotlight
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Essays

Holes

June 9, 2017 Emma Brooker
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Wonder woman is in cinemas this week.

If only everyone knew I was really Wonder Woman.

I may not look it on the outside, but inside I have grown tall and tough. Powerful.

I can quickly deflect bullets, lasers, and other projectiles with my impenetrable bracelets.

Sure, I still have my weaknesses, holes that sometimes leak.

I poke my fingers at the holes in my sides though, as best I can. 

I realise this about myself, suddenly out of nowhere, as I drive along. A snails pace on the way to work. 

The swaying of the wipers, swipe at fat droplets of rain on the glass.

As I think about ways I have tried to fill up those holes and stop the leaks.

I am not even sure if it is the rain causing things to be blurry out there, or me lost in my thoughts.. with my fingers digging into flesh.

For a while there I wasn't so strong. Smooth silk, lipstick, the bottom of a liquor bottle, comfort food, addictive behaviour, running, hiding, clutching on to pregnant memories..anything I could reach to make me feel alive again.

But it only dulled the ache, desperate sandbags; a levy.  Never really filling me up. Temporary plugs.

It is hard to lose something. To admit you failed. It weakened me.

I recognise now though that despite it all I keep going. Head held high. Bracelets ready for action. 

I think we all tend to do that as women, we get knocked down, we get back up again.

That's at least something.

I am strong again. I know who I am now, and I like her.

I know more about myself than any judging eyes. it is a powerful feeling. To walk in a room and know I am worthy.

I know that foolish people don't see my magic, but trust me it is there, I feel it when I poke my fingers in.

Nothing has broken me when it probably should have. Smiles come. Joy can be reached.

I rock it in black lace, heels and red lips. My armour to face them all. I don't care what anyone else thinks about that. 

I used to always say I was weak. I don't anymore.

I am so strong. Stronger than I ever gave myself credit for.

If I wasn't strong, I would simply let go. Allow all the stuff inside to come spurting out. 

I'm an Amazonian warrior princess. really, when I think about it. 

Men have tried to bend me, break me. 

Circumstances have pushed and pulled me.

Nobody can ever tell me what I should be anymore, only I get that privilege. 

I am my own Super Hero - strong enough to leap tall buildings and find amazing ways to mend leaky holes. 

Emma-Kate 

xoxo

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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