There was a time in which I used to feel like those who have been abused for so long that they thought it was right, fair, and then even if I knew it was wrong, I used to feel ashamed of my past, cos I had been abused and I would have had to say no, but I hadn't done it.
So I started doing all the best for proving myself that I was better, that I deserved more.
But deep inside myself I still felt I was not.
It was like I was living in a bigger cage, but it was always a cage.
I could move a little more but I couldn't escape.
Still I felt that my warden was the only one who could set me free.
Unless somebody could steal his key, but any try was unsuccessful.
Then something unexpected happened: my warden opened the door, so that, to my surprise, I could shily step out from my cage and take a look outside.
Decide whether to stay inside or outside.
My old wounds of captivity began to disappear, one by one, together with the pain and the shame.
All that is still in progress, but the environment around me slowly changed.
My narrow cage turned into a nice and comfortable house, where I choose to take refuge whenever I can, with big windows and a beach in front of it.
And my warden turned into my beloved sea.