Part 2: Lives Within A Life
Introduction
I’ve lived many incarnations in this one life—each with its own name, voice, wardrobe, and way of walking through the world.
I didn’t carry souvenirs from one life to the next. I didn’t reflect, or grieve, or ask what needed healing. I just stepped forward, fully and completely, into whatever came next.
When one life ended, I dropped it like a costume and put on the next one. Matching shoes and purse in the first life. Bell-bottom jeans and long hair in the second. A new man. A new addiction. A new role to play. Always starting over, but never starting fresh.
At the time, I didn’t think of it as fragmentation. I didn’t have that language. All I knew was that the girl from the last chapter didn’t belong in the one I was now living. So I left her behind. Again and again.
Only now—years later—can I see the trail I left behind. Not a path, exactly, but a series of escape routes. All of them leading me further from myself.
This is the part of the story where I begin to look back. Not to judge. Not to fix.
But to gather the pieces.
To see each life for what it was: a way I tried to survive.
A life I lived before I knew how to come home to myself.
⬅️ Chap. 11
➡️ Chap. 12
⬆️ Return to Hub List
🕊A Living Memoir
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