Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
Words of My Own – A Poem
I’m looking at the water within me.
It is a storm that wants to overtake me,
pummel away at the foundations
that I have built, the balance, the stability.
I have a fleeting moment
where I want to give in,
let the water overtake me,
the storm loud and taking away
all sound except for the rushing of water.
Yet, there are other sounds,
words that gurgle to the surface
of the water and I turn away from them,
but I can still hear them:
stupid, nothing, useless, idiot.
They are words that I’ve heard before,
words that I’ve said to myself all too often
much as I’ve weathered the storm.
I know the caress of its waves very well.
Watching the water as it undulates,
trying ever so hard to wipe everything
of myself away, I stare back at the wet void
and speak some words of my own:
awesome, fabulous, super, wonderful.
I know that the water is looking for a way in,
hoping that I didn’t put enough force
behind the words, that I don’t mean them.
I wait and for a millisecond I think
that the water will win, that it will take over.
However, the foundations hold.
I look at the water that I’ve held back and realize
that I meant the words after all.
This thought fills me with light.
I watch my beautiful emotions,
remembering well when I would let them
take me over. As I watch, the water
finds a new pathway that wasn’t there before.
I open my eyes and turn away
from the storm that so wants me to succumb.
Not today, I say to myself.
Not today.
Times Mirror – A Poem
I have had a hard time loving myself.
The mirror only shows me
what I don’t want to look at
but I’ve realized over time that I’m hearing
the thoughts of other people.
A previous boyfriend: “You’d be more attractive if you lost twenty pounds.”
I’ve rallied against these thoughts,
these voices of others that are on repeat
inside of my head, talking louder
than my own internal critic.
An ex-husband: “Gosh, try not to look at me head on. Your lazy eye is disgusting.”
I have struggled with how I look for years,
feeling like I’m never thin enough,
or attractive enough to fit in and to belong.
A not friend: “You’re welcome here, even though you’re not beautiful. We’re kind that way.”
For years, I’ve had to fight against the opinions
of people that in the end do not matter to me.
Why then did their words and insults
hold onto my mind, hurting me every time
that I looked into a mirror?
A dentist: “Oh you were born that way? And you just grew to be comfortable with how you look?”
I’m so tired of hearing all of these voices,
the weight of their words dragging me down
until it feels like I can’t hold myself upright.
I no longer want to be triggered the opinions
of other people and what stares back at me
from inside of the mirror.
My husband: “You’re perfect for me.”
I need to remember that I am more beautiful
than my voices think I am.
My husband: “I love your pudge. It’s one of my favourite things about you.”
The opinions of others don’t matter,
only what I think of myself does.
I need to start celebrating what I see in the mirror,
let the words from the past fade from my mind
and the mirror in front of me is so clear
that I can see all the past parts of me
I was taught not to love.
My husband: “Your smile is one of the first things I noticed about you. It lights up a room.”
I cannot hold onto time, for I am not a time lord.
There is no way that I can control what happened
in the past, but I can control my present and my future.
I can control which voices I hear
and what I see in the mirror.
Throughout my past, I was taught to hate myself.
In my present and my future, and now and going forwards,
I will try to look at myself with love.
I will let go of the voices, give them to the wind
so that they are taken away from me.
From now on, every time I see something
that I dislike in the mirror, I will shine brightly
so that all I can see is my light.
Mercurial Shadows – A Poem
* To my Beautiful Husband.
When I think back on nine years
of living with the unseen foe
that lives within,
I find myself going back
through the memories that I
have inside of myself.
I flick through them as if
they are photos,
polaroids of memories that
are my talismans against
mercurial shadows that hide
underneath my skin.
I remember the joy
that shaped those moments,
the sounds of laughter,
music and the thrill of the unknown
before the light shone
through the clouds.
I know that there are many ways
that the shadows have changed me,
but I have also persevered,
embraced a new way
to handle the shadows,
be it with light or with the powers
of love and understanding.
There were time when the
shadows were made of
ice and glass and filled my body
with pain that could not be named
or understood but I still climbed
the mountain, still went on despite
or even because of the mysterious shadows
that filled my life.
I would part the shadows like a curtain;
on the other side,
you were always there waiting for me.
It was always your face that I saw,
your hand reached out towards me,
holding my hand through the pain
and the uncertainty.
You let me know that I was capable
of doing anything I set my mind to.
Though I carry the shadows
and the weight they bring with them,
you have shown me that I can
achieve what I thought were miracles
meant for others.
More than that,
you have shown me that the love
continues to grow between us
is the most amazing
miracle of all.
A Mother’s Words – A Poem
*For my Wonder Mom
I remember hearing your voice
when I was young.
You were always speaking to me,
soft flowing words
that would reach out to me,
wrap me in an embrace
and hold me close.
I remember feeling protected
when I was older.
I was trying to figure out
who I was meant to be.
You told me to be
proud of who I was
regardless of what others said.
I remember feeling loved beyond words,
even when we were far apart
from each other. All it would take
was the sound of your voice
to feel at home, to feel at peace.
Your words have always found me.
I am so proud
to have you as my mother
and I am honoured every day
to be your son.
Voices I Let Go – A Poem
It is my fathers voice I hear first
as it’s the one I have known the longest:
“Why are you so fucking stupid? Can’t you do anything right?”
The sound of the voice has changed over time,
taking on the tones of my ex-husband next:
“You really are as ugly as you look. You’re ugly on the inside.”
I try to push away those voices,
pushing past the fog that they create within me,
but still the tone of voice changes again.
I hear the voice of a past fiancée next,
the tone of voice is happy
even if the words cut like knives.
“You’re my little freak, aren’t you? You’d be more attractive if you lost twenty pounds.”
I turn away from the words, but they follow me,
latch on to my mind like parasites
and their voices are all I can hear.
I turn into a dark corner of my mind
and his voice is waiting for me too,
an ex-boyfriend that had strings attached to
every action of love that he made:
“You want to end your life? Go ahead and do it. The world would be better off.”
Every word from them is a
slap, punch, stab, roar, guttural growl
in my ears that all I can do is look at myself
and is it any surprise that I hate what I see
when I look in the mirror?
Then I hear another voice,
though softer, it is louder than all the others:
“I love you unconditionally.”
At first, I tried to turn away from this voice,
the one that spoke words that I couldn’t believe.
“You’re perfect for me.”
I wanted to run because the words didn’t hurt me,
they weren’t designed to degrade or take away
bits of me, but to hold me up and show me
who I really was.
“You’re too hard on yourself. I wish you could see yourself as I see you.”
Every time the other voices come,
this one voice chases them away
but I have to stop holding on
to what they thought of me because they never knew me.
They come back to me though,
from time to time,
filling my head with a noise like the buzz of bees,
loud and insistent.
When that happens, I have only to look
into the eyes of my husband,
the man who knows me better than I know myself,
and let the voices go.
Within myself, I stand upon a cliff
I can feel the wind as it brushes my face
and I open my mind to the wind
so that the voices, which have grown loud again,
will be released to the heavens.
I know that they will return,
that the voices from my past will return.
Every time, I will let them go and focus on my voice
as it sings a song I have yet to know
the words for.
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Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 