A mental breakdown can boost up old memories – most of them bad ones. And with my past, there are still unanswered questions, unhealed wounds, fear and blame. However, most of the time, I manage life and challenges but the pain manages to linger on…

The pain still lingers on and questions multiplying. Questions I don’t have the answers to. I wonder why me in my despair and why was I their victim of choice. Wasn’t I important enough to respect, value or even love. It all lingers on, the past, the words and their judgements. Why wasn’t I strong enough to fight back, who robbed me of my strength? I let fear take control and I chose to hide my face. My silent gave them strength; signalizing that what they were doing was right and acceptable. I did nothing. Today’s pain disguises itself behind my brave face that I put on for all to see. At least, I am able to feel – no can rob me of my mind and emotions. And behind my faithful and optimistic words. But inside hides a whirlwind of emotions with fear as my number one companion.  And as I feel every sorrow and every loss – I’m reminded of the strength I possess, for I still stand, I’m still remaining, surviving and persisting my story.



Unbroken Spirit: ‘Battle Within’

Emotions in the now – battle within!

There comes a moment when my emotions challenge my every movement and rock the ground I walk on. I then lose all hope and find myself questioning my existence. In the whirlwind of life fear is present and the mind becomes fragile by the tales of life it apprises.

As my emotions take the best of me, I’m begging for the strength to carry on. To find the will to face obstacles put in front of me. Hopefully, in my downswings have faith that there is meaning even when meaningless acts are thrown in my direction. Then challenging my indecisive mind.

I search for perseverance in the journey of self-discovery. I pray that fear will serve as a guideline rather than a diminisher for all hope. But in my fearful moments I witness my self-destructed ways poisoning my sources of merriment. Thus feeding every negative seed ever planted and groomed.

But in fairness of living, I understand every battle cannot be won. Still, I seek victory in life’s battlefields and the confidence to accept while being. And despite hardship I hope that I am able to carry on with life as it holds my hands, guide me to truthfulness and usher its wonders. For in all sensibility, I wish to exist in the uniqueness that is me.

To do so, I battle the struggles in the now and emotions of the past in order to conquest the future. My future.


My Tears Taste Like Salt


I can’t give up with all to lose for all is in.

I search blind but not finding what I am looking for, while the answers keep playing hide and seek.

Uncovering reasons to stop but finding only fear as a motivation. I spend my energy worrying about the unknown course of life, slowly sending myself to insanity. One by one, my insecurities come to life. Once again I am left with a choice.

I stand clutching to what remains of me whilst slowly loosing grip of what I know to be. As I witness the truth suffering the loss of sincerity, I am afraid of the wickedness of darkness – in daytime, afraid of the emptiness that transpires with solitude.

Lonely as the day passes and empty as the day closes in. All in a wind swirl like motion to nothingness – colliding with anything in its way.

I see the wreckage coming, I am a passenger witnessing a collision. I am weak, I tell myself – believing a lie, inviting the idea that I do not matter.

I am disappearing behind the novelty of life. And right ahead lies a continuous brick dividing me from sanity. I alone can feel the pain and I alone can walk through the arduous journey.

Alas, exhausted from the strenuous task of fighting a battle with a wounded mind as my heart weeps. I stare into nothingness as my eyes become as one with darkness – slowly adapting.

Behind barriers and closed doors; as one with space, I taste my tears – the ocean runs deep in disguise.

photo credit: <a href=”″>Meet you in the dark universe of tears</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;

The Journey Continues

On to the curvy road of life, we learn and discover. We witness kindness, love and miracles. Foolishly becoming slaves to opinions – turning them into facts. In moments of weakness fear blinds us of the abundance of joy and beauty. Forgetting the importance of life as we often do – an human error. From start to end we meet our uncertainties by the entrance of hope and light, leaving us with many choices to make. However, too often thinking with the mind rather than the heart.

Fear as a common point for us all, teaches us the beauty of “whatever will be, will be” – the endless surprises of life showing us its inevitability but the outcome depending on the journey itself. In every waken moments challenges may or may not appear. Providing us with an opportunity to build character. The journey always continues despite of unknown steps as time passes. Everyday’s a choice; captivity or life.

What we choose is significant. What we leave behind is forever.


Happy Friday


Photo credit: <a href=”″>autumn road</a> via <a href=””>photopin</a&gt; <a href=””>(license)</a&gt;

When Forgiveness Is Out of Reach

Sorry Is All I Can Give

Sorry Is All I Can Give

I took a step forward only to fall deeper. I crawled as I watched you vanish. My essence crippled as regret reigned, ever shattering hopes of rejoice. I took a second chance with a blinded stare. I explained till the the words became lies. Apologies becoming only words.

No harm was done, only two wounded pride.

Trust is broken. I broke the chain, never to regain it. A mistake that will live on. In the depth of fire our tainted colors emerges. Showing sides never visible. Your colors rapidly blazing as you change a frozen image – word for word.

How naive I was to believe in the possible. In the now, remorse I can express. Sorry is all can give. I will live with my mistakes, empty my heart from hate and anger.  And in the spirit of love, I release you to the past.

From A Distance

At times, we remain unbroken because of the excellent people in our lives. This is a tribute to my listeners, believers and trusting companions. You matter to me in every way!


Pic by A.B. @ The Vigeland Park, Oslo

To not unlock what lies beneath, a cry in silence is certain.

I have not been given a reason to do so, therefore trust was never an obvious choice. Either in enjoyment or battles, my insecurities kept me locked. Trust is profound. Because of you I now believe it’s obtainable, a true essence in any relationship.

To the self, I tell stories that a burden I am. I voice the words of incompetent but you prove the opposite, letting me know I am good enough. That I am strong and capable.

With one dial, from a distance you lighten the weight I carry. And with a simple message you succeed to put a smile on my face.

You offer me the best medicine – laughter.  And I embrace it. Every sound.

In the name of love, I share I’m not prominent. But in your words I am showered with warmth and affection. You shake the doubts and fears that emerges in darker days. Whilst inspiring me to express my truth – either bad or good.

We fight our own battles from afar knowing we have each other to lesson the cries, burdens and fears. Having each other, although from a distance, to share our thoughts of curiosity and the stories of life. I rest in comfort knowing that I have you, a someone blind of judgement and indifferent.

It took me awhile to understand the meaning of friendship and what it represents. It took me you to understand. I adore the moments we share.
As I cherish having you in my life, I hold you dear in my heart.
Distance between us is filled with love, care and trust.
We’re far away yet you’re close to my heart.

Dear friend, you came at the right time. Exactly when you were supposed to.
For that, I am forever grateful.

Silent Victim

silent victim

After this story some of you will call me a victim, some a fighter, others I’m not sure. But I can tell you I have a name, Mira and I’ve been silent for too long.

The occasion flashbacks hijacks my thoughts. And when it does, I’m once again paralyzed – left speechless and powerless as I felt on one particular gloomy night. Believe me when I say that I’ve tried to erase the memories of what happened to me 12 years ago. However, the event of one evening in the month of June, has proven to be impossible to forget.

In a small town where teenagers had little to do with their time and weekends, curiosity led me to all sorts of trouble. And with a bad behavior and choices is where it all started. Drinking at least every other weekend was the norm after a certain age – thirteen was the magic number. I started at the age of fourteen. New in town, I did my best to fit in. And with an absent father and a mother dealing with her own problems and worries, I didn’t wish to burden her with my adolescent difficulties. To my mother, all seem well – I was doing just fine in a new place. The traffic of friends coming to visit showed I had friends. And the teacher’s feedback told her I was doing well in school. Mother had nothing to worry about. Little did she know of the secret I would carry with me on my own.

Although having a curious mind, sensibility was still one of my strongest suite. I knew when to not take things too far. But if I did, I was a master of hiding my tracks – like any other teenager. Amongst my peers it was a normal behavior. But in the midst of my choices, I felt that I had a sense of what was right and wrong. At fourteen years old I had already learned the consequences of alcohol. However, more lessons were to come.

Norwegians are proud of their landscape and forest that even partying in the woods comes all so natural. Growing up I got used to this ‘tradition’ and lived the spirit of it. I can’t even begin to count how many gatherings I have been to that involved socializing and drinking amongst the trees. Consider that a fun-to-know-but-unneeded-information.

At a bonfire festive in the woods a week before, I met a boy five years older. It sounds like something taken straight from a fairy tail, right? Let’s call prince charming for Erik. The curious part of me got me involved with him that weekend. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the company of an older guy. His attention semi focused on me, his slurpy kisses for my lips only – I was lost in ‘forever after’. A childlike fantasy. I caved in. All sensibility was replaced with wild and raging hormones. Love was only make-believed. Emotions was all in.

For our next meeting, he invited me to his place that he shared with a friend. It was supposed to be a double date but a friend couldn’t go at the last minute. But convinced me to go. The argument was; in a small town where everyone is familiar with one another what could possibly go wrong.

Nevertheless, one Saturday in June, 12 years ago – at the age of fourteen – I made a bad choice.

The evening started well, then everything was going great. To my surprise I became intoxicated. Drunk. But this time, it all happened too fast. I felt strange. Numb. But I was still aware of what was happening. Music playing the background. Laughter. More drinks all around.

I began to feel weak. I think I passed out but woke up moments later in an unfamiliar bed thinking they had been nice to let me rest and sleep off the alcohol. Instead, an opportunity was seized.

Still aware of what was happening around me, I failed to move or speak.
I couldn’t prevent it. As I laid there in bed, it felt like all muscles in my body stopped working. I couldn’t move to save my life.

I had failed myself at the age of fourteen. Made a bad choice. For them, I must have been the perfect victim as I laid there totally helpless. Not able to move. I then realized the course of this event and from there I let fear take over. I felt nothing.

Prince charming does his business and leaves his mark on my purple shirt that I had bought for the evening. The other one gets bolder. I can see him unbuttoning my jeans. He too does his business and leaves his mark. Force was not needed. I proved to be an easy prey. I was silent, unable to scream. A witness, unable to intervene. That night I unwillingly lost my virginity.

Able to walk again but feeling empty I went home in a taxi that gloomy night. Disoriented about what had happened. Behind the wheel I see a familiar face. I hoped he would hear my silent cry but no meaningful words were exchanged. No concerns was expressed. No questions was asked. The same at home, I kept silence.

I kept what was mine. At least, whatever that was left. I kept it all to myself; thinking it was my mistake to recover from and my burden to carry. I glued on a brave face, learned from it and moved on with a reminder and ‘what ifs’

It would take 11 years before I would unleash this burden. Eleven years before a daughter would seek comfort in her mother.

Human experiences can either transform us or break us. To let this break me was not an option. I carry this experience with me as yet another scar, one of many that serves as a reminder of the strength imprinted inside a human being.  

I’m a victim perhaps. Certainly a fighter. But foremost, Mira – a human being.


Thank you for reading. Be kind, be gentle – behind every name, there is a story and behind every story there is a face.  Wish you all a pleasant weekend!

For Her Sake



Dear Notebook,

It’s been a while but here I am…again. Yet another day has gone by. Nothing has changed, except for the season which shows that summer is near. Soon, it would seem that I’ve managed to survive my first year of high school. Barely.

Nothing has changed at home. I still don’t like him. No shock either that we just haven’t connected, after almost a year. The notion that there’s something about this one cannot seem to escape me. I’ve tried my best. Truly – for her sake. But her choices in men makes it all too difficult.

She’s always made bad choices in men, this one is no fighter
but neither a lover.

As her daughter, I had no choice but to go along with it all. I’m her possession, although in a good sense of it. To her, I’m something precious that needs to be kept safe and close. I know she loves me. But without her knowledge all this Romeo & Juliete is at the expense of my feelings and sanity.

They’ve all claimed I’m no issue but body language doesn’t lie. I’m very much a problem – I’m in the way. I try not to interfere. It’s not my place either. I need to just be and exist in silence.

The issue now, is that he doesn’t like us spending time together. It’s become a competition. One I know I can easily win with no doubt. But I just can’t bother to compete with yet another grown man’s insecurities.

I’m too exhausted. And if I’m honest, I’ll admit that there’s a tiny trace of fear that stops me from entering a ghost race.

We’ve finally settled down, a long dream of hers. Unfortunately, in a small town where everybody knows your name and with the color of my skin it’s hard to blend in. Being one of two black persons in town doesn’t make my attempt unchallenging.

The new girl in town isn’t hard to find if one is determined enough.

Was it love or desperation that drove us here. I’m not sure. She claims love. I claim madness! What’s for sure is that here we are, here I am and soon to be 17.

I won’t make her choose. It wouldn’t be fair. For her sake, it’s only fair that I make a choice. Not tonight though, I’m too tired!

Happy Friday!



It’s been 25 years. Side by side we stand. Her spirit still captivating. Her strength still lingering. Her genuine love showering me when life leaves its marks and bruises. As an adult, her presence still protecting me whilst offering guidance. My mother. “What kept you going?” I ask in curiosity and admiration. Her smile and the glint in her eyes shares a silent story. One I know too well but never ceases to amaze me. She exhales and sends me a smile. “Giving up would have meant giving up on you. And a mother never gives up on her child. Remember that.” she declares with pride and reason in her voice. “Beside, how could I give up on love? It brought me you.”