A life no longer my own.

  It slipped through my fingers, as if I was trying to grasp water with my bare hands. No matter how tight I clenched my fists, no matter how quick I was to close my hands around it, it slipped, and I will never get it back.

  I work at an office, typing and aiming to please the men that tower above me, watching me. Will I get that promotion? Do I want it?

  I run each day, dawn and dusk, shaving the pounds society believes are extra. I wake before the sun to go to the gym, pushing harder and harder, until I realize I'm late for work.

  I come home every evening, 6:07PM on the dot. I know because every day at that time, the bus passes three minutes early, and the couple downstairs yells at each other, over materialistic things that seem to matter more than the child they're raising. My husband gets mad if I come home later than 6:07, he reminds me I need to go for a run, and that I don't need the promotion.

  I got married last year, to a man I'm acting for. Pretending to love until the day I die, each second pulling me to my sweet release. I met him too late, and we married too early. My parents wanted it though, I was never textbook like my sisters and their friends. They all wanted me to get married, so I did. My parents convinced me that I could never, or should never, write for a living, and that I should go to the gym to keep my husband happy, and that I should stop questioning everyone and everything. Maybe I should stop listening to them so much.

  I recently wanted to dye my hair, maybe blonde, I needed a change. I ran the idea past my husband and my boss, to make sure it was alright with them. I threw the dye away and stared at my blank, sunken reflection, staring back at me in the mirror. My eyes are wide but drained of hope. I ran my pale, slender fingers through my straight brown hair. He likes it this way, I wouldn't look good blonde anyway.

  I work for the men above me, I run and work for society and to keep my peers happy with my appearance, I married for someone else, dress for someone else, I live for someone else. My entire life, I've reached out for the reins of my own life, enclosing my fists on nothing, empty air. My life is no longer my own, it is lived to satisfy others. I am here to fill their backgrounds. Until now.

  I will take back my life. My work, my love, my interests, my body, I won't stop stretching out my hands until I reach and snatch the reins that were pried from my hands so long ago. I will dye my hair blonde, I will like it that way. I'll gain a few pounds, I won't mind being full for a while. I'll talk with my husband, this relationship can't continue, it can't. I'll tell my parents that I'm not okay and that they don't control me. Baby steps. First though, on top of it all, I'll write. I will tell my story, and guide people to take the reins of their lives back. For the first time in too long, my life is finally my own.

Author's Note

ahhhh this is my first story here and i really hope you guys enjoy it. Be honest tho if theres anything you dont like tell me!! I can take criticism:)

Reviews

[ananicole]

Very honest reflection on modern life, especially for women. I really like it! I think it is important for people to make the most of the life they are living.
We only get one, after all. Best of luck to you, Mya! I hope that you will take a look at my work. I am still working on it, but hope to submit it soon!