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The Lighthouse: Walking the Curve Toward Clarity

 


1. SHARDS

Short poem

She didn’t crack, she shattered. A fall so quiet the pieces made more noise than the breaking.

Meaning

Shards are the parts of her that split under pressure — not because she was weak, but because she had been holding too much for too long. Childhood trauma made her adaptive, not strong. ND wiring made her sensitive, not fragile. Perimenopause removed the hormonal scaffolding that had been holding everything together. The shattering wasn’t failure; it was revelation. The shards showed where the pressure had been, what hit her, and how thin the glass really was.

2. THE LIGHTHOUSE

Short poem

She walked the long curve around the lighthouse, and only at the far side did she see the storm she’d already survived.

Meaning

The lighthouse is clarity — the moment she finally saw her life from the outside. For decades everything was clouded: trauma masked, ND wiring hidden, hormones compensating. She thought she was coping. She thought she was strong. She thought she was the glue. But once she walked around the lighthouse — once the fog lifted — she saw the coastline clearly. She saw what was real, what wasn’t, what she carried, and what was never hers to carry.

3. THE JIGSAW

Short poem

She was the piece that never fit, not because she was wrong but because the puzzle was never hers.

Meaning

The jigsaw is the way she shaped herself to fit into other people’s needs. Childhood trauma taught her to adapt, to contort, to become the missing piece in every room. ND wiring made her hyper-aware of others, masking her own needs. Perimenopause stripped away the ability to keep performing that role. She didn’t fail — she simply stopped fitting into a puzzle that was never designed for her. The jigsaw metaphor shows the truth: she wasn’t the wrong shape. The puzzle was.

4. THE GLASS COFFIN (Snow White)

Short poem

A girl in glass, not sleeping — preserved. Breakable, not broken. Waiting for someone to understand the architecture of her silence.

Meaning

She didn’t draw the image; she found it — a simple Mr Men–style Snow White lying in a glass coffin. Childlike. Fragile. Innocent. She kept it without knowing why. Only later did she understand that she had recognised herself in it long before she had language for the feeling.

The glass coffin wasn’t a fairy-tale pause. It was containment. It was survival. It was the metaphor for a girl who didn’t have much to function with, who protected what little she had, who stayed small so she wouldn’t be hurt again.

Perimenopause shattered the glass. ND discovery explained the wiring. Trauma explained the fragility. Clarity flipped her life from clouded to visible.

She wasn’t failing. She was stepping out of the glass.

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