Out of the Shadows

There is a time for everything. There is a time to be silent, and there is a time to speak. This is my time to speak about one of the darkest days of my life. However, the darkness no longer engulfs the memories, nor does it engulf me, because on the ten-year anniversary of that dark day, everything changed for me. The tenth anniversary of one of the darkest days of my life found me living in Arkansas once again. The morning of April 30, 2018, was a tad cool, even refreshing, as only early spring can be. As I left home, sunlight filtered through the trees illuminating vibrant hues of new life – leaves, grass and flowers – all announcing the arrival of spring. My heart felt heavy but I didn’t want to think about it. I just wanted to make it through the day and turn the page of the calendar. Completing my first stop of the day, I climbed back into the black pick-up truck, and drove toward Starbucks and a morning of work awaiting me. “Take your mom flowers.” My instant reaction...

“Filly.”  I heard the boys call again, “Filly!” Barely thirteen years old, my plain, straight, brown hair fell to my waist accentuating my lanky form of 5 foot 4 inches. My love for life and people bubbled over in my own, quiet way. With an easy and quick smile, I made friends instantly with young and old alike. Except, of course, I wasn’t supposed to be friends with the boys. At thirteen, the line had a tinge of gray. Co-ed contact was strictly verboten in the cult. Even eye contact and basic greetings between the sexes were frowned upon, and even punished. This concept was difficult for me and felt unnatural; I wanted to be friends with everyone! “Filly!” The boys were calling to me. Me! I didn’t turn and hoped no one else heard. I was not sure what to do with a nickname from boys. This was a first. “That’s not my name,” I reminded myself, “and I’ve fought from the time I could speak to have my southern, hyphenated name pronounced properly. And in its entirety. I’m...