I am a fighter. I do not give up. Somehow, I find strength to persevere even in the toughest circumstances. I cannot remember the last time I gave up. I have often thought of writing a book that chronicles my journey through the depths of wars I never signed up to fight. In fact, I never signed up for a single battle. But somehow I was designated to don the armor and march forward.

I have fought tirelessly for my son. Disabled people are simply the very last people to be considered by those handing out the funds unless it is election season. Many disabled adults are voters, but of course they are after the parents. Anyone who knows a family of a disabled child knows that no one is tougher than a parent of a child or an adult with a disability. Lay low if you make them angry.

I have fought for my other children. When their education and well-being were threatened by those who put making or self-validation over the needs of the children.

I advocated for my father when he was not well. He spent his entire life advocating for the needs of others. He was a man of action. I made sure my mother had all she needed when she was rendered unconscious by a serious pulmonary and cardiac issue.

I have worked to make sure my students were receiving all the academic needs that could be afforded for their learning experience. Strived to make their time under my tutelage was safe and happy.

I have fought for myself and what I need to make myself happy. Not as much as I should have, but I am learning.

And I have worked hard to have a strong and healthy life, for myself, with my partner, and with my family.

But I have hit a wall. There is one part of my life I am tired of fighting for. This is one I should never have to fight for. But alas, here I am. I cease to feel that I can fix it. Not everything can be fixed.

I grew up in a world where we would do the best we could to mend things. And if that did not work, we would build something new, using the foundation that was there before the structure was broken.

Alas, I am finally feeling that some things cannot be fixed. Often we cannot do it by ourselves. Sometimes someone else has to stand beside us and work as hard as we do.

But not everyone has that ability, desire, or strength within.

Some people simply cannot stand in their pain to repair damage. And it is often damage they helped make or made on their own. If their own comfort is at risk, they would rather stay back and pretend the mess is not theirs. They will jump into the flame if it gives THEM the fulfillment, but to ascend from the ashes and leave behind the cloak they hide behind to mend fences is way too taxing.

I may have just reached a place where, in this instance, I have to say it is enough now. My desire to fight has exited.

So do I move on and never look back?

Or do I play the part and pretend it does not matter for the sake of peace? But whose peace? Mine? Maybe. Others? Definitely.

How often do we sacrifice our personal peace to keep things copacetic? I think in the case of women, all of the time.

Do I lose my fight? Not entirely. Not ever. But when someone does not want to fight for you, or beside you, perhaps they need to walk their own path. It might be sad at first to let go of that particular fight, but in the end we need to do what is best for us. Not a living soul can fight FOR you if you do not fight for YOU.

I want to be chosen. Clearly, only I can choose me. I have settled for less for way too long. Therefore, I must look to myself.

She’s had a few hard times
Sometimes it blows her mind
Papers she never signed
Sometimes she remembers

Sometimes she was just an actress
But you’ll never really know

Shadows move across her face
You cannot see her soul
Unless she lets you see her soul

STEVIE NICKS