Her words…his words…their words fill the cavernous space that her heart once occupied, before it was ripped out of her chest and stomped beyond recognition.

They drone on about her unworthiness to experience any semblance of happiness because they perceive her as flawed, imperfect and less than whatever it is they think she should be

Their incessant echoes are cacophonous, and they almost always drown out her own voice of reason… almost...always.

Death by a thousand cuts…

Red Egret sometimes believes them and self-sabotages her awaiting bliss

She finds solace and sustenance in nature, in the cool calm waters of rivers and lakes.

Beneath the soothing waters in the silence, she can hear her own still small voice

It offers grace, redemption, forgiveness, love, compassion, but most of all… acceptance and encouragement to be who she is…just as she is.

You see, Egrets are never red… except when soaked in the blood of the unthinkable

Hopefully Little Egret can fight her way to the surface…washed clean in nature’s purity, with the knowledge, will and determination to escape and start wonderfully anew.

4-2-2025