The ocean symbolizes the power we hold. Waves lap at the shoreline over and over, pulsing the water in infinite measures with an unfurling scroll that mimics the strength we carry.
Five years ago, I gazed at the sea with an emptiness of spirit and fearful of the life ahead of me after disillusionment revealed the worst of things in the people I had loved longest. I felt betrayed, used, invisible.
I screamed to the ocean, “I am worth it,” weeping for the years I failed to believe this.
The waves crested and fell, the rise and fall of perpetual power. Repetition. Shadow. Echo. What was worth repeating to myself? What would sustain me forever?
I yelled again. “I am worth it!”
The waves rolled and rolled.

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