The arrival of the holiday season brought on another intense period of hesitation about writing my story. This time, rather than stall out for the twentieth time, I dedicated myself to examining the cause of the hesitation.

The doubt rose its immense head and began to question my motives as I prepared to travel to see my family for Thanksgiving. There was a lot of anxiety leading up to the trip because it was the first time in a very long time that I was traveling to see my family without my own car or separate place to sleep. I wasn’t sure I would be able to handle five days of family immersion.

Why even go at all? Because it is part of the journey towards healing. It is messy, it is painful, and it has taken a surprising number of years. I am so grateful for the wound healing salve of time. It really does help to dull the pain of some memories and triggers.

I was incredibly nervous, but I knew it was time to allow myself to be somewhat trapped with my family again. I did end up renting a car however. And this worked out well because the drive from the airport to where most of my family is living now was a couple of hours. It gave me peace of mind to have a mode of escape if it was needed.

In the end, it was actually a very delightful trip! I was able to appreciate the time I spent with each of them and to immerse myself in a different lifestyle for a few days. It was the perfect amount of time. I was grateful to fly back to my home where I have built a life that I enjoy and feel safe in. The most stressful part of the trip was landing back home and forgetting where I parked my car!

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It’s hard for me to paint anyone in a negative light. Even though the things that happened when I was young greatly traumatized me. I don’t want to speak ill of anyone, and yet, I want to share how these experiences have impacted me and my journey in seeking mental and physical health.

I’ve been ruminating on these doubts and fears for a few weeks now. I wonder what my motive is for writing this book. Do I really want to share with the hope that my story will inspire others? Or am I seeking some kind of public vindication; these things DID happen. Do I simply feel the need to release all of this in one cohesive format so that I feel cleansed somehow? Maybe I just want to feel known for all of my experiences, I’ve been in hiding for so long and telling this story in snippets doesn’t seem to be good enough. I still don’t know the real answer, it is probably a piece of all these. I have given myself permission to not know while moving forward. At least I find solace knowing that I am not trying to shame or humiliate anyone.

I wonder if I’ll lose the relationships with my family that we have been making an effort to cultivate. If they do choose to walk away from me again, will it be my fault this time? Is this fear simply a continuation of protecting abusers? I also don’t know the answers to these questions. But have once again, given myself permission to continue.

The next thing that I discovered, was that in order to write freely, the thing that soothes the doubts and fears and allows me to move forward, was creating a pseudonym. I’m unsure of the true need for this. But I am not yet ready for my family to know what I am doing. And so, Marigold Mayfly was born. A thrill runs through my spine and sparks in my eye when I think about Marigold.

Marigold can speak freely, she doesn’t have to hide. Marigold can speak for me, something I’ve never been able to do. I have been able to speak for others. To fight tooth and nail until there was barely anything left of my soul, for them. But I have never been able to feel worthy enough to be fully enraged for myself. And I want to write about the gut twisting emotional pain, the breath taking suffering, the moments of heart stopping terror.

Even now, I wonder if I am dramatizing this and it really wasn’t that bad. Marigold is going to help me write my story as if this all happened to someone else. If I think about these things happening to a different girl, I can be horrified. Maybe through the process, I will finally feel that I am good enough to be protected, valued, loved. Potentially…. I will learn how to love and let someone love me again. Perhaps that is what this is really about. Breaking down the walls that I have built around my heart so that I can allow trust to enter my life once more.

When the time comes to release this book and let her wings fly, I don’t know whose name will be printed on the cover. That doesn’t matter right now. I am taking one step forward, not knowing what the next thousand look like or where they will take me.