When I was bad

There are things that we do in life that we cannot take back, as much as we wish we were able to.  There are things that linger in my memory even after decades have passed and wounds have been healed. My wrongs never seem to right themselves in my mind.
They are as much a part of me as my own skin, which I wear for all to see.

By the age of 14, I was a drug addict.
By the age of 15, I was a victim of assault.
By the age of 16, I was a run-away.
By the age of 17, I was a mother.
By the age of 18, I was a wife.
By the age of 19, I was divorced.
By the age of 20, I was a mistress.
By the age of 21, I was an alcoholic.


I have lived through these things and more in my 31 years, and managed to come out whole. Slightly ulcerated in places but yes, still whole. I try my best to not let my mind linger on my former life. I cannot change my history and I cannot live with regret. The only thing I can do is move forward, doing better than I did when I was bad.

I am a wife again. I am a mother 4 times over. I am a friend. I am me again, only better.
I am new.