We were trapped, once upon a time.

Years, we spent in this way. Trapped, in various types of prisons, first by our parents - abusers in their own way, although they did the best they could, I’m sure… or did they?

Then, later, we were trapped by prisons of our own making. Because we didn’t know what freedom felt like, it didn’t feel like we were doing anything our of the ordinary - we became drug addicts, prostitutes, bulimics, anorexics, problem drinkers and secret bipolar battlers… and we were again locked away from the everyday world, numbed by the coccooning unreality we lived our lives inside.

Opening the prison gates takes time; holding them open takes a little more.

Walking through the gates of that prison, and truly living life on the outside of those walls… that takes time, self-belief, and a helluva lot of courage.  

To those who made it out, and are living their dream in the sun, a salute from those of us still in the shadows, working on walking out of those prison doors for the last time.