“No More Chains: Rewriting My Legacy”
- Sherry Beck
- May 24
- 2 min read
I have walked through storms, the wind a howling banshee, icy rain stinging my face, stealing the sun’s warmth. I watched the downpour wash away dreams, once held close like fragile blossoms, their scent now lost to the deluge. Yet, I stand—unbowed, my spirit unbroken, a force reborn, strong and resilient.
They scoffed, voices like sandpaper, claiming a zebra’s stark black and white stripes, a tiger’s ferocious orange and black, were immutable. But I, feeling the sun’s warmth on my face, refused their pre-ordained path. The scent of untamed earth filled my nostrils as I carved a new trail toward a vibrant horizon shimmering with my unique hues.
For too long, I planted gardens for those who never stayed, watered roots that were never mine. Lost in the echoes of giving, I forgot how to whisper my name.
But wandering is not weakness — it is a road to discovery, a map to resilience. What was once fear became fire, and that fire became an unyielding power.
The rough, unpolished stones underfoot, cold and unrelenting, reflected the coldness in my heart. I wasn't an empty canvas, waiting for someone else's bright colors to fill me. Instead, a profound, resonant hum of self-love vibrated within me, a quiet strength reminiscent of sun-warmed earth.
Love called to me, a gentle whisper against the wind, but it carried the sharp scent of self-respect, the solid feel of boundaries firmly drawn, the taste of choosing myself.
So one day, sunlight warming my face, hands steady, heart a frantic drum against my ribs, I breathed the words, a whispered confession: “Sherry, I love you.”
And just like that, the heavy cloak of doubt lifted, shadows melting like whispers in the sun, the cacophony of inner voices fading to a hushed, distant murmur.
Now, I walk alone, yet a vibrant solitude fills me—a chameleon, my skin shimmering with iridescent hues as sunlight warms my face. I saw the earth solid and strong beneath my feet, a quiet power humming through me wherever I stand. This is my legacy; it smells of freedom.
“I tended soil for souls that wandered, nourished dreams that were never mine to keep. In the silence of sacrifice, I forgot the sacred syllables of my own becoming.”
Better to die fighting for freedom than be a prisoner all the days of your life.
I truly resonate with this: "For too long, I nurtured gardens for those who never lingered, poured my care into roots that were never truly mine." It’s a sentiment that speaks to the deep realization of misplaced devotion—giving energy to what was never meant to flourish in my own soil.
I’m deeply inspired by No More Chains: Rewriting My Legacy. Before we can rise, we must first recognize and break free from the invisible binds that hold us down. Awareness is the first step—only then can we confront, challenge, and ultimately triumph over our struggles.