Charanjeet Hullen

Not enough, is the message I was told.

Not enough, until a baby you make, was the message sold.

Not enough. My conceptive parts dissected and disposed.

Not enough. Unaccepted by society, “It’s best to keep this one closed.”

“You’ve skipped the worst part of life, stop behaving like a freak.

Count yourself lucky in your later years and, be mindful how you speak.”

“But, my maternal years have been stolen and, I feel old and frail and weak.”

“Nonsense! Why do you speak as though your life is so dark and bleak?!”

Not enough, is the message I have been told.

Not enough. Your views on this must not be shared or imposed.

Not enough. The truth must never be exposed.

“I cannot hide the truth from myself; I know I am beyond the age of old!”

“There’s no reason to be upset, you can’t feel what you have not lost.

You need to be careful of what you say; friend loss will be the ultimate cost.

Loss of a baby you never had is pointless and, I am tired of hearing this.

Time and time and time again, you won’t climb out of your pitiful fictitious abyss.”

Not enough, is the message I am told.

Quietly, I think and feel, “Surely I must own my story and be bold.”

Not enough. “I can’t believe it; I am older than my mother!”

She was right; there are no friends to lean on in my time of bother.

I stand still in my realisation. Time moves but I have no age.

A place for me to be belong to, exists at no orderly stage.

Time omitted from the present; it is both past and cast further into the future.

I’ve skipped decades. I am before my time. Human? No, perhaps a mystical time leaping creature?

Not enough. I acknowledge a mother I will never become.

Oh no! This haphazard venture has only just begun!

Not enough – “Can’t you let it go, get on with your life and just be?”

“No I can’t. Your unawareness I must accept and, agree to disagree.”

Time and age experienced together; a defining factor for most.

Ah, the menopause –I remember: brain fog, depression and heat, akin to an oven roast.

Time is disordered, horizontal leaping back and forth.

I will not repeat the words you spoke of; persistently cold and inexorablycourse.

Am I enough? Yes…to those who reach relentless biological laws.

A thought for me, decades later, “Oh yes, she is experienced when it comes to menopause”.

“You are enough! Tell me all that you know to help my suffering please.”

“You are enough! Can’t you see my pain and aging difficulties?”

Something died, more than once perhaps, yes that’s true but, not my spirit or my soul.

It allowed a space to grow, a new paradigm that made me wise and more than whole.

My friends did leave, as I was told, but a magnanimous friend in me I found.

I am the one I have been waiting for, and I have found myself to be decisively unparalleled.

Enough is enough! Enough of the messages I have been told!

I am enough. I cannot allow others to speak down to me, corrode my thoughts and scold.

I will be enough. I will live boldly with empathy to a child’s soothing heart song.

A mirror reflects the friend best for me. I am enough, I will be enough, I was enough all along.