Updated: May 12, 2019
Like a snagged wool sweater, I am unraveling. My entangled threads continually catch on life’s pointy corners and jagged edges. This intricate stitching of my essence hooks on the endless demands, disappointments, setbacks and failures.
The deepest strands of who I’ve known myself to be are tugged apart for the unknitting. For this form I’ve worn too long-- the person I was, and have become-- this style that once fit me well is now loose and misshapen.
I am aware that my sensible cardigan life Is no longer a fashion that best suits me. I’ve thoughtlessly payed the cost of wearing expensive cashmere crews in neutral shades of grey, beige and brown.
I believed the promise that classics never go out of style. Yet, sometimes they do. They unravel too. We all do at times. Fall apart at the seams. Become moth-eaten. Worse-for-the-wear. Thread-bare.
And so, I unravel. By choice. Stitch by stitch. I pull apart my beliefs, my desires, my flaws. I come undone. With compassion I yank these loose hanging soul-strands. The ones I will no longer tuck in and shamefully hide. I will not tie yet another knot into my thread-worn existence. to stop this undoing.
I tenderly hold the strands of my soul’s weave. I am unraveling. And today, I re-knit a life of new meaning from the strongest fibers of me.
Written by Melissa Timberlake