One has to say how their heart feels, or their unspoken words will start writing a story on their own.

I grew up in a dysfunctional family, which is a pretty normal thing in this mad world and which does not make anyone more special than anyone else.

What it does though, it stops us from believing that it is ok to say when others hurt us. Especially when they are also hurt, and possibly much more than everybody else.

In the end, most people spend their young lives saying too little and feeling too much. Until the pain gets so big, they escape from it leaving their child self behind. There are millions of lost children in the world, who have abandoned themselves and never made it back home. They now roam the world, trying to be adults while they never had the chance to grow up.

“You are hurting me!”

That’s all those young people need to say to feel validated and seen. In keeping quiet, they choose instead to venture down the lonely path of self-doubt and grief. The world wonders what is wrong with them, and they silently wonder too.
When we are able to say, shout, write ‘YOU ARE HURTING ME,” we break a powerful spell we all fall under, which causes us to stay small and never grow in all our beautiful potential.

This is a story about a girl named Joy, the girl who defied the invisible witch, “Forget me not.”

Joy was born in a small village where everybody was nice but also very sad. They hardly offered one another nice words, and they would often get mad and mean without any good reason. Although for a while the little child was a breath of fresh air for them all with her quirky ways and charming words, soon enough they started to dismiss and belittle her. In time, the girl grew very weary of them, she no longer felt safe to be herself, and became very lonely. While playing on her own, she’d often hear the wind whispering loudly to her ear: “Joy you are nothing. You are not special at all, and the world will soon forget you. There is no magic out there. No dreams to make come true.”

What did those hurtful words mean? And who hid in the wind?

When Joy ventured down a solitary path near her house, which led to an open road, she never went back to her village. She hoped the wind never spoke to her again and that in time, she’d believe in magic again. Instead, she grew more miserable by the day and kept thinking of her people. What made them so sad and angry? How could their words be so hurtful? She loved them so, and yet had to get away not to be swallowed by their pain. So why could she not feel her old joyful self yet?

One day, Joy came across a group of small children.

They all seemed lost, just like her. The children were heading towards the scary forest to fight the evil witch who made people forget who they were.

When people can not remember their true essence, they become sad and mean.

“We are the joyful ones. The ones who were meant to help the elders remember themselves again. But the wicked witch of the dark forest has taken our smile away. We don’t know how that happened, but we too fell under the spell she once cast on our people. Our joy is slowly leaving us, and soon we will not remember our name or our way back home.” the youngest child told Joy.

“We have heard that the only way to break the spell is  to say the words.”

We don’t know what that means, but we hope that those words will come to us. Join us! The more we are, the more words we can say.”

When the children approached the dark forest, they got scared and tried to turn back, but they could not remember which way they came.

They were lost.

Suddenly the wind started to blow, speaking mean and angry words.

“Leave useless children. You are good for nothing. The world has already forgotten you. No one will come and save you.”

The children started to cry, when out in the distance a red mist started to get closer and take shape.

The wicked witch slowly started to appear and every child now stood speechless and petrified. Unable to speak, tears run down their sad faces, as the witch slowly moved around them. Whispering in their ears evil words that felt like daggers through their heart.

“No one likes you. No one cares. Your people don’t even believe in your stupid magic. They like being sad. No one wants to find joy again.”

The scary witch was now chanting her words, while she caressed the children’s little faces with her mean and dirty long nails.

When she came closer to Joy, she saw that the child was not crying. Nor did she look scared or lost.

“Why aren’t you crying stupid child? Don’t you know that soon you shall forget your name and the way back home. Aren’t you scared stupid little girl? Pointless waste of breath and life.”

Round and round Forget me Not  went, until she stopped and now breathing heavily onto Joy’s face, she shouted:

“You shall roam the earth forever lost, for the one who says no words is doomed never to be seen again.”

Joy, shaking and summoning all the courage she held in her little body, moved towards the witch and quietly she muttered through her teeth :”Stop it. You are hurting me.”

Forget me Not stared the girl in her face and burst out in a loud laughter. “You stupid child, what are you trying to do? I can not hear you. No one can, because no one can see you!”

Joy clenched her fists really hard and shouted on top of her lungs:

“Stop hurting me. Stop hurting me. I am not scared of you, because you are just hurt like everybody else. You forgot your name because you could never let your heart speak and feared the world would forget you too.”

The evil witch threw the loudest scream and in a big puff she vanished in the thin air, while the children slowly dried their tears and started to smile again.

The spell was broken.

Joy had said the words that remind us all that when we are hurt, we hurt others. When we cannot let our heart speak of its sadness and joy, we forget our spirit. We become invisible to ourselves and we worry the world will never be able to see us again.

It is our very fear that keeps us under such an evil spell, and only we can break it. For ourselves and for those children whose heart lost all its power to sing.

The children went back to their villages, where they found their people celebrating in the streets while they waited for the young heroes to return.

Joy was invested of the biggest honor and made into the village’s storyteller. From then on, through her many tales, she reminded others the way back home whenever they forgot.

And so it is,

Antonia Lyons

 

Antonia Lyons

 

Thank you for stopping by, it is a joy to have you here and welcome you into my world.
I am an author & an Intuitive Storyteller . I work with people who, like you, are ready to live more authentically & insightfully. Evoking Grace  is the “sacred space” where you become a Bigger You & tell a Bigger Story. Here you will hear your soul sing.
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