While being told that the choices you’re making are the wrong ones is something I’m intimately familiar with, it’s only when I heard of someone else facing the same that I found my impulsively writing that which follows:

With her time at an end, she looks back
At the life she’s lived, the choices she’s made
Her lips curve slowly in a wry smile
Wishing she’d gotten more things right
There’s a sense of rightness to those words
For her right and her wrong are hers alone
She remembers too well what they said
Doesn’t question the intent but balks at the words
She knows too well the need to opine
But she alone knows her mind
She visits then, those choices she made
The ones that were mistakes, they’d claimed
She’d chosen the path so few had taken
She’d known that there was a price to pay
With none before her she could follow
Her own trail she’d made from scratch
She’d watched silently as people had jeered
Persevering and fighting for the ground she gained
She knew that they could never accept
That other roads too could lead her ahead
So strongly they believed that they alone knew
That life could be lived in a limited number of ways
She’d never denied that things had been bleak
That she’d felt lost and scared and bereft of hope
But all of this paled in the face of that joy
Of the victories that had been hers and hers alone
She’d touched heights that others couldn’t even aspire
Then she’d descended and chosen to walk amidst
Her age was her failing and she’d relented
She gave up that life for what culture had cemented
The mistake wasn’t in choosing the path she’d forged
But in giving in to the simpler ones that were shown
They watched with scorn the way she lived
And with scorn, the one she lived with
They’d thrown men her way when she mentioned marriage
Factoring in planetary positions but not her age
Not knowing that she’d already picked the one
And wouldn’t hear them say how doomed they were
The wedding was such a simple affair
When the only guests who came meant to cheer, not eat
Things started out great and stayed that way
Until they didn’t and each had plenty to say
Every action comes with its own consequences
But the end doesn’t negate the journey’s beauty
They had a good run and some moments were priceless
But they parted and the ones who’d jeered now cheered
They saw in this their curses vindicated
But she found another and found happiness
Leaving them confounded and bitter and angry
How could anyone choose their own road to bliss?
She’s heard what they say but never listened
How could she when they try to chain her so?
She knows that she’s made choices and mistakes
And many a times, each has been both
She knows that she could make plenty more
And try as they might to label one as the other
It was she who could tell one from the other


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