Scattered Tears is the poetic story of a woman named Grace. Grace is fed up living life based on other people's standards, and has decided to live life on her own terms...
Barnes & Noble NOOK
“I’ve reached a point in my life where it would be a burden to consider what other people think about me. I can no longer afford to carry around the weight of the world and their opinions. I‘m going to be happy with who I am and give myself permission to be free.”
This is what Grace said on the morning she turned 30. After living a life trying to please those around her and completely ignoring her own feelings, she decided that day to simply stop. Gone were the days that other people could tell her how she should look, how much she should weigh, and who she should love.
Scattered Tears is a poetic depiction of Grace’s life. It describes her climb up from low self esteem and the challenges she faced trying to live up to everyone’s standards but her own. Each poem reveals a tear that has been scattered and a new scar that has been healed. For every tear that she scatters, Grace in turn plants a seed to embrace a new outlook on life.
From breakups to triumphs; from laughter to heartache; from pain to pleasure - this book will celebrate it all. Life is a journey and it is meant to teach us to adapt, accept, and embrace. Join Grace as she learns how to love and accept herself for who she is and emerges a new creation in the process.
I know that may seem totally out of place, but I assure you that it isnít. Let me explain. On top of being set up with a blind date by my best friend, everyone else was trying to control every aspect of my day. My mother wanted me to disregard what I planned to wear and brought over this couture gown. (Itís a backyard soirťe for crying out loud!) My sister insisted that I not make pink the primary color in the decorations because she liked purple instead. (Hello, my favorite color is pink not purple.) My co-workers insisted that I have an indoor party because it was going to be too warm outside for Ďsome folksí, namely them. (I wonít even justify that with a comment.) And my father, of all people, had the nerve to tell me about a month ago that I should lose ten pounds before I step in the spotlight. What kind of mess is that?
Now do you see why I cracked? Itís my own fault though. Iíll admit that. If I had not been everyoneís puppet for so many years, I would have the backbone to stand up for myself and just say no. Of course I said no in my head where no one could hear me. Then Iíd vent to whoever wasnít the culprit at the time about how upset I was. I never did anything about it though. If you examined my life with a magnifying glass, youíd find everyone elseís fingerprints but my own. Take my closet, for instance. My mother has bought every single item in it. I hate 95% of whatís in there but I wear it anyway. Why? Because Iíd hate to hurt her feelings. My best friend decorated my condo in some kind of feng shui Buddhist dťcor, even though Iím Baptist and prefer country chic. Iíd hate to hurt her feelings too so I left it like it was. My dad has paid for a lifetime membership at his gym complete with personal trainers, and I never really have time to go. Honestly I donít have the desire to go, but I make time because Iíd hate to hurt his feelings too. Do you see the pattern here?
So this is what I know. Iím tired of everyone narrating my life. Iím not going to stand for the things Iíve been standing for anymore. Gone are the days that people can tell me how to look, how much to weigh, and who to love. Iím done being that girl. Iím ready to be my own woman.