“The woman who was saving iguanas opened the cage of the newest arrival and asked if I wanted to hold him. She showed me how to slip my forearm under his scaly belly and bring him to my chest, not unlike soothing a colicky baby, though the iguana showed no distress and breathed evenly against my body, not cold, not warm, as if he didn’t mind being suspended in a stranger’s arms, as if nothing could surprise him in the tumble of the world he’d been swept up into. The iguana was strapped into a thin black harness that made him look like a leatherman from the Castro, an old queer with spiked hair and his wrinkled dewlap. I’d had a bad day, well really a bad year, and the one before that wasn’t good either. My child wasn’t talking to me and I’d stopped talking to everyone else. The iguana was still as a monk in prayer, all that moved were his ruched eyelids which opened and closed over his orange eyes. His chest filled and emptied with the dry hot air we shared. I thought to myself, even this is something.” PoetryHopeNaturePoemComfortWildlifeIguanas Author:Ellen Bass
“In spite of the horror, in spite of the tragedy, in spite of the weeks of sleepless nights, I'm finally alive. I'm not pretending. I feel real. I'm not playing charades anymore. I wouldn't go back to the way I was for anything. I'm really like a different person. I'm where I am, and I'm making the most of it. I know I'm courageous now. I found out I had it in me to face this. — Barbara” HopeHealingRecoveryTrue SelfAuthentic SelfAbuse SurvivorsSurvivorsHealing JourneyReal SelfFace Your FearsHealing From AbuseRecovery From AbuseCharadesChild Abuse SurvivorHealing AbuseChild Abuse SurvivorsNew MeFeel AliveDeciding To ChangeGave Your Fears ChoiceHope And Disappointment Book:The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse Source: The Courage to Heal: A Guide for Women Survivors of Child Sexual Abuse
“to love life, to love it even when you have no stomach for it and everything you've held dear crumbles like burnt paper in your hands, your throat filled with the silt of it. When grief sits with you, its tropical heat thickening the air, heavy as water more fit for gills than lungs; when grief weights you like your own flesh only more of it, an obesity of grief, you think, How can a body withstand this? Then you hold life like a face between your palms, a plain face, no charming smile, no violet eyes, and you say, yes, I will take you I will love you, again.” ThinkingBodyHandsEyeFacesHopeWaterGriefAirLove YouAcceptanceFitPaperWeightFilledDearHeavyFleshHeatLove LifeThroatStomachCharmingPalmsVioletLungsObesityYou AgainTropicalCharming Smile Author:Ellen Bass
