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Neidre Mychals

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Peter and Paul
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Write the Words Down
by Neidre Mychals
Friday, November 20, 2009
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(This is a poem for my Sister-Friend)

I told my sista-friend that something awful was happening

And that I needed to talk to her about it.

But, what was happening was so painful

    I knew I couldn’t speak the words out loud.

I who have been teased about falling asleep talking,

    Waking up talking, talking when I should have been walking,

Couldn’t speak the words about what was happening.

What was happening was so painful, my terror was so deep,

     That I had to write the words down.


I sat across the table from my sista-friend

      Watching as she read the note I had written.

My thoughts were of yesterday;

       A time when troubles seemed far away,

And I lived in a place where the things I valued were still real,

Where in spite of private disappointments and sometimes difficult accommodations,

       Marriage still meant a safe place.

Where treachery might peer in a window,

       But it dared not come in.

How does one verbalize that a place as safe as my marriage

       Had come to an end—

Well…I had to write the words down.


Later—months and years later—I would actually feel glad to have gone through this.

        To understand more fully the complications of love and accountability;

I would be glad for the chance I had to learn

        About sadness and pain, healing and hope.

But as I sat across from my sista-friend,

       With the sunlight illuminating the hand that held my note,

I was intensely aware that I was standing in a place

        Existing in a time, where I would never be again.

I was leaving the place where the things I valued had existed.

        And as I made my exodus, here’s what I remember most;

I remember because I wrote the words down:


My sista-friend finished reading my words, she touched my hand

       And wordlessly, tears fell from her eyes.

That is the gift that she gave to me that day—

       Wordless tears of empathy.

My sista-friend—a heart so generous that she wept for me.

        Her tears were like hands that were reaching out.

Without the use of words she let me know

        That the pain I felt, the struggle ahead, was not mine alone.

How does one verbalize the comfort and courage

        That came with such a connection…

Well, I had to write the words down. 


Neidre Mychals is an insightful writer and a results-producing LifeStyle Coach.  Her focus is on encouraging adult women who lack relationship-support, and providing the know-how to overcome life challenges.  She writes with great sensitivity, and is the author of nine books, including the Guidebook for LifeStyle Coaching.   Her work can be viewed online at:




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Reviewed by Regis Auffray 11/20/2009
Without the use of words she let me know
That the pain I felt, the struggle ahead, was not mine alone.
How does one verbalize the comfort and courage
That came with such a connection…
Well, I had to write the words down.

I think that what you have expressed within your verses here is honest, real, and deeply meaningful. You have touched me. Thank you. Love and best wishes to you, Neidre.

Reviewed by Neidre Mychals 11/20/2009
There are many painful moments in life. Pain experienced so deeply until it is difficult to verbalize its depth. It is easier to write about it. And, that pain becomes tolerable when it is shared. Another reason why no sister should ever walk alone. What do you think?
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