[stylist] Writing exercise: Life Story

Mon Apr 9 16:11:40 UTC 2012

I really like this, it really makes a person think.  It invokes sympathy for
children in such situations, and yet gives hope that they will have the
possibilities for a happy life.  I really like the imagery and the words you
chose.  Language is such a treasure.  I am sorry for the hard times you have
had in your life, I understand and identify with the numbness though my
situation was different.  I really like the eluding to snow white and the
poison apple.  I have been their and I also like the kiss awakening, I also
identify with that.  It is always a good thing when you reed something you
relate to.  Also it is a good story for people who are still in that numb
state in their life because when are you are in such a state it is hard to
believe you will ever be happy.  Your words give an identifying point and
hope at the same time.  Have you ever hird the song "conversation with my
thirteen year old self" by Pink?  It is a different circumstance but the
message of things will get better is the same.  I hope to be able to spread
that message as well  some how as eloquently as you did because when a
person is in the depths of despair, depression, sadness, or even anger they
need to know there is a way out.  It is sometimes hard to believe as you
know, but it is possible. Thank you for sharing such personal work it can be
hard to share private thoughts with such a big group.  But people can learn
from real experiences better than fiction most of the time, because it is
easy to say "anyone can make up a happy ending" but reality is harder to
refute.  Sorry for my long windedness.

Andi

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On
Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
Sent: Sunday, April 01, 2012 6:00 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Writing exercise: Life Story

I wrote this a year ago for a prompt about your life story in less than two
pages. We were encouraged to be creative and find our unique voice while
addressing something about our lives.

I briefly address some issues in this exercise that I have yet to take on in
my writing other than alluding to it.

I fell from grace the day I was born.  August 22, 1981 was a regular
midsummer day for millions except Bruce and Tami Kuenning.  Six-months into
a rocky marriage was not enough time to cope with the news of an impending
pregnancy.

Birth, for many, is a joyous time to be celebrated, but for Bruce and Tami,
my birth was filled with dread and fear.  No images of a woman rocking
gently as she knitted a pair of pink booties, no husband lovingly caressing
the belly of his beloved.  Their bleak world brought horrors of firm hands
clasped around the thin, pale neck of a woman not yet in possession of her
own worth.  Love was a distant memory for Tami as she stared into the wild,
blue eyes of Bruce as he pointed a shotgun at her protruding stomach.  Their
crazed union created a child not meant for this world.

The angels cooed at the babe not yet corporeal.  Their tears washed the
ethereal grime away leaving a ruddy all-to-human bundle that laughed and
cried, grasping at air.  Knowing the fate the child would be left too, they
embraced the baby in strength and courage.  Placing kisses on the child's
forehead, they removed the final layer of spirit and watched as the baby
sank slowly beneath their glowing feet, out of arms reach.

And so I fell from grace, screaming for the home I would not find for many
years to come.  Awakened by breath only to forget warmth.  Smiling pictures
of a baby girl crawling, looking bright-eyed into the camera, offer a
misrepresentation of my childhood.  Where was the camera to capture my tears
and heartache?

I learned to escape reality.  I learned to numb myself and forsake all human
contact.  I endured, and I embraced my existence until I found my true home
once again.

Like Sleeping Beauty or Snow White, I was wakened with a kiss.  Until this
point, I would have taken the poisonous apple just to feel, but I found
something much sweeter.  A hand never raised to cause harm, but to softly
touch.  A touch that caused fire and ice.  Lips that never bespoke abrasive
words of anger and pain, but kissed to soothe.  Kisses ignited a passion.  A
man never intent on hate and grief, but only kindness.  A man who drew the
long slumbering spirit from my depths.  On February 22, 2005, I found grace
once again.

My feet have finally touched this world.  No longer do I hover in limbo,
stuck between two existences.  I see with clarity, and I dare to feel to the
depths of my soul.  A true marriage constructed from love and friendship has
given me my happily ever-after.

Twenty-nine-years ago a man and a woman could not see beyond their own
misery, but now they have a second chance in their first-born child.
Containing all that is good in them, I am the product of their chaos, and I
can give absolution.  I rest in my home now, knowing love is mine to give.
Weather-beaten and old, I am beautiful, and I find beauty with the clarity
of angels.

Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Read my blog at:
 <http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/>
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/

"History is not what happened; history is what was written down."
The Expected One- Kathleen McGowan

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