My Soul is A Quilt
Life is not easy.
I find it extremely beautiful most times, breathtakingly alluring too.
But it has not been an easy one for me.
I often wonder if it is me who makes it this way.
One time I told my therapist that I would give anything to be normal. Anything to fit in. I did fit in, I pretended to fit in, for a while. And it broke my soul.
Then, when I found my courage to start walking, I found ways to mend my soul. Leaving scars. They ache at times too.
I look back and think often, do I regret my choices? There are plenty that I do regret, but none of the life choices I regret. Every decision had been made based on what information was available at that time. Oh and the stupid ones, those goes under “hard fucked up lessons I had to learn the hard way.”
My soul as of today looks like a quilt.
Growing up in India and after coming to USA, when I saw a quilt for first time in US my first thought was “did they run out of cloth?”
Then I came to appreciate the beauty of them. You can make quilt out of important pieces of fabric out of your life. Starting with the first dress to the messy soccer t shirt. It means a ton, isn’t it?
So, I am thinking of my soul as a quilt. Patch worked, contains tons of odd pieces, full of memories, beaten down and beautiful.
My soul is a quilt.