Victoria is my Name

I was born Victoria Lee Stewart in January
In a small retirement community a full week into the new year
Yet I was the New Years baby

I once asked my mother who I was named for
A queen perhaps, or a far away city?
"No" she said, "I just thought the name is beautiful- you are beautiful"

But she didn't call me that beautiful name, instead she called me Vickie
She spelled it in a different way then most
with the "ie" on the end instead of a "y"
Nobody ever got it right

It rhymed with all manner of unpleasant names
Which I suffered throughout elementary school

Vickie, Dickie, Sicky, lickie, Mickie, picky... icky

Finally I had the chance to re-brand myself
A move to a new state when I was nearly 12
Now I was Tori...
No longer gangly, and awkward, with buck teeth, and stick out ears
I was tan and tall and pretty and I was "The girl from California"

And Tori didn't rhyme with anything gross

The move was no good for a girl with no self-esteem however, instead it proved to be a disaster that set me on a path of self loathing and self destruction

Suddenly attractive to boys and with out compass or sanctuary
I became victim to the whim and desires of others
Mississippi holds no fond memories for me
I cringe at the thought of meeting someone who knew me then

Leaving Mississippi behind did not remove its shadow from my heart
The shadow cold and lonely followed me thru Arkansas, Okinawa, New York, Connecticut and back to Arkansas again and Wisconsin and Florida and Arkansas again, and again to Arkansas

The dark times were dismal with this shadow overhead, no light could penetrate. Anguished nights spent screaming into the dark,
Cicadas roar covered the sound with no purchase found in those days

Years passed until I finally made another move
To a new place inside myself.
I decided to grow into me
I know it sounds too simple but that was just what I did
I left behind the old shadow, the shame and solitude
I changed from the inside out, my food, my outlook
I nourished myself in ways that have nothing to do with my address

I am Victoria now and forever
I am beautiful and free

Three

The Bible speaks of discernment
To hear and understand, but to think as well
Not to follow blindly but to study
To know and to lead

There are three

Three men who caused the pain
Three of offspring to suffer

There are three

Three faces of man to make it right
Three of offspring to live

From the day of Adams sin
His death began and it spread
To suffer in the sweat of his face
To eat the fruit of his war

To the resurrection of Christ
His death repaid and he reigns
To suffer his Kingly throne
To witness the wages of sin

There are three

Three lives of the children
Who eat the lies
Three children to suffer

There are three

A man we await
Who was once and forever
Who has left but not gone

There is one
A love to suffer
A truth to tell and understand
One truth
Discerned

Rembrandt http://www.mirrorservice.org/sites/gutenberg.org

Proverbs 8:1

Is not wisdom calling out? Is not discernment raising its voice?

College Scholarship Essay 2015

It has taken me 45 years of living to finally figure out who I am. As a troubled teenager I had no dreams other than to leave my mother’s home. Teenage pregnancy and marriage at 17 achieved that goal. At that point all my own dreams had to take a back seat to motherhood, and surviving the situations brought on by my choices. Years of domestic abuse and self-abuse coupled with a car accident in 1995 have taken their toll on my body. Qualifying for disability in 2009 was the beginning of getting my life on track. Finally having a stable income and home allowed me the time I needed to get a handle on my health and my dreams.

As a mother of four girls and a boy with special needs, life has been especially difficult in my particular socio-economic status. As a thrice divorced mother, my choices have further complicated my situation. When I first attempted to return to school in 1999, colored with these choices and hampered by these circumstances I still did not know who I was as an individual. I majored in accounting because working in taxes was the first thing to which I had applied myself of any importance outside my family and I seemed to excel in my client relationships. Little did I know at the time that what I excelled in was not the love of numbers; but of helping people. During my time at Pulaski Technical College I excelled academically, and came to terms with myself as a writer for the first time.  My Professor; recognizing my talent, tried, unsuccessfully to get me to change my major to creative writing. But I was still going through so much abuse from my current husband at home, I felt that I needed to simply get training to make an income and that my personal dreams were not important. I didn’t have the time to waste on myself. I graduated with honors, Phi Theta Kappa but after graduation, my life finally spiraled completely out of control.

As my health deteriorated, and my family life nose-dived, I survived a complete mental breakdown and subsequent homelessness. I struggled to keep my children and lost half the battle. My dedication to God and my children were the only things I had to hang onto. When I went on Social Security and Section 8 my life finally began to level out and as the years progressed and my children grew I still followed their dreams, not mine. I spent a couple years as an autism advocate and was elected Vice President of the Arkansas chapter of the National Autism Association. My daughter became a singer-songwriter and as her co-songwriter and manager I finally began to dream dreams of my own. I discovered a talent for songwriting and music management and marketing that I had no idea about. When she left our partnership it devastated me to lose my daughter and best-friend but I found that the loss of the music was just as devastating. 

I have since written a book of poems based on my life as a survivor of domestic abuse, I have performed my poetry in front of audiences in Hot Springs with great success. I have also built a reputation in this town and a strong network of friends and colleagues as a music promoter, and I volunteer my time with several music festivals and galleries. I have been told that my help with website development, and social media marketing is unique and invaluable.  I want to continue to dream, to make my dreams come true and others as well. I plan to study the arts and add this to my prior business education to help other artists to realize their dreams. I envision one day opening an artist co-op here in Hot Springs to promote the arts and dreams among young and old alike.  The arts have opened up my world to possibilities I never imagined and I hope that many other people can be inspired as I have.

After 45 years I finally know who I am. I am a woman, a mother, a special needs-parent, an advocate, an activist, a dreamer, a poet, a song-writer, a social media coach, an artist and I am a survivor. 

My Own Road by Victoria Meyers (21 of 30)

I am in charge of my future
My decisions shape my world
Mistakes I've made
They've changed me
And set me upon a new road
What I learn is my roadmap
My experiences are my journey's log

Stronger now, I know my mind
I'm told that's not who I should be
I know better tho, from my journey
Mistakes I've made
They've changed me
Now set upon my new road
I am the cartographer of my own world

Like a phoenix from the ashes
My feathers shine in glory
As I am now victorious
Against the chains that once bound me
Mistakes I've made
They've changed me
Changed my mind
Am set upon this new road
And only I will chart its path

Letter to my Little Self by Victoria Meyers (14 of 30)

Hey little girl,
I remember when you were sitting in your room at your flower table
Coloring with crayons while you sang Elvis, and Eagles and Shawn Cassidy songs
You believed you sounded just like the singers and you sang loud enough to drown them out

Hey little girl,
I remember when you used to spend hours choreographing dances and skits to go along with those same songs
When you would get the other kids to to join in and put on a show for your moms' party friends
I remember how you gave the party goers all tickets and directed them to come to come see the "show" at the designated time.
You had it all figured out and you put on three shows a night- so that no one had to miss out

Hey little girl,
Don't stop dreaming
Life will get hard, and so many, many years will go by that you will forget
You will even forget yourself and who you would have been - before - if they hadn't done all those things to you to knock you off your trajectory
So many years will go by that you will want to give up
In fact you will give up entirely three times before you get back on your path

Hey little girl,
Remember all those things that happen to you not only the good and happy things- but also the ugly nasty and a sad things too
Are the same things that will make you amazing
They will color you music and your poetry and your parenting and your love
With all the empathy that you need to touch the hearts of those who will listen

And little girl,
I'm telling you they will listen one day
And you will smile

Lost Words by Victoria Meyers (13 of 30)

Sunday morning came early
A new day to wash the tears away
I travel down pathways in my memory
Searching for song lyrics long lost
The lilt of my song haunts me
But my damaged brain keeps holding out

These old purged words that are lost to me now
Ghosts of the past in my today
I remember the times when I wrote them
Black bird flies away
To a door on the far side of the sky

Woe to you who don't take a serious view
To the art of your words today
Because tomorrow they could be gone
And believe me when I tell you
You will ache for their loss

Thoughts flit in and out as I write
My brain is a sponge that is drying
The moisture my thoughts, my words my poems, my songs
Drying out

This final repetition of a faded glory.
Falls flat as I rest my boots
While little birds and blackbirds
Both fly away and when they go
They take your heart and soul with them

Thank You Poem by Victoria Meyers (12 of 30)

To the lady who parks in the loading zone downtown (you know who you are);

It was a year ago that you parked so long in the loading zone
Even after making me move out of it for you
Shouting at me, "This is a loading zone!"
The fact that I was actually unloading heavy equipment at the time,
While you were simply parking your large red car
In the most convenient spot in front of your business
Was lost on you.
And two hours later when I asked you if you would be moving soon
So that we could re-load our equipment
It was funny to me at first that you blew up at me
When you tried to pretend that I was being unreasonable
But a couple of weeks later when you stopped me on the street to yell in my face
Because you had pissed off someone else with your antics
Who had left you a note-.
Well that was almost my last straw
I want to thank you because apparently I needed a test of my patience

Because ever since that day, whenever I see your car It takes all my strength of will Not to KEY your shiny red paint job
And funny enough now whenever I see your car,
Or another car just like yours,
Or even a car of the same make of another color
And sometimes any red car at all
I think of you

Again I have another opportunity to practice my restraint
In fact as time goes by you would think this test would finish
But I guess I really really need this test because
A week ago I nearly failed
And keyed your car when I came upon it unexpectedly in the Wal-Mart parking lot
Instead of its usual spot in the loading zone downtown
Where you still insist on illegally parking your car

But I did resist,
I will continue to resist
Jehovah, God is happy and proud of me for my restraint
And anything that makes Jehovah happy in this day and age is a miracle!
So thank you
Thank you for the miracle

~Thank You Poem by Victoria Meyers