Molting

I found myself peeling back the yellow wallpaper that once covered my bedroom walls in search of not only a solid foundation but something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I lay awake tonight, my back vulnerable to the vacancy of my bedroom, and I pick; scratching away the faded yellow paper that I was ever so familiar with. I guess you can say I am molting like a reptile, shedding my old "skin" to grow further. I was ridding myself of who I once was to make room for who I am yet to be. I continue to strip away the pale yellow memory which begins to pile on the ancient carpet that has collected not only dander but beads from broken friendship bracelets as well as fairy dust. As each piece effortlessly floats down from between my tobacco stained fingers, I remember the moments that led up to my exuviation and I knew that yellow wallpaper just wouldn't do any longer. The strips are coming off in larger quantities now and I'm beginning to see the original wall.The wall seems to be revealing itself as if it's shouting to me that if only I keep ripping and peeling off the skins of my bedroom, I'll find what I've been reaching for. I'm pulling off the pale yellow paper more rapidly now, begging to be told the secrets within the walls. Not much can be heard now, only my tears beginning to fall and create a small pool at my feet. Suddenly, I can't help but notice that it's no longer yellow that I see but white. White walls. And in this very moment, I knew why I stood at the base of my bed soaked in sweat and tears. I saw the white walls brighter and whiter than fallen snow. For in this moment of time I knew that I had shed the old me and gave myself permission to embrace the pure, rejuvenated, white walls before me. In this moment, like a new born child, I took a breath of fresh air and began the journey of self love.