A Letter to Survivors, from a Survivor
This journey is all very much numbing. I know that. You know that. We all know that. There's guilt involved in healing, especially when we reach a point to believe our bodies and mind stop belonging to us for not protecting us, and in turn, we want to give ourselves away from normalizing the impact. We're giving away our power, our resiliency, our strength, our courage, our vulnerability, all of it. We don't want to do that. Our bodies are our temple. They are our home, and our home needs and deserves to be tendered with so much love and so much care, but with patience, time and space. Time itself and being patience with our journey to care of our soul can be an energy sucker when we refuse to put in the work to heal ourselves, to love ourselves, and to show up for ourselves. We've had to hold our own hands, wipe our own tears, and support ourselves the best way we could all while digging ourselves out of this trauma hole, and do our best to fight and survive. We've all got stories nobody knows about. We've got our own ways to heal, our own ways to manage our emotions and our own ways to survive. We've all got bodies and minds that were violated, with permanent scars left behind for us too soothe, and those scars eventually grow out new layers as a symbol for surviving. Reconstruct your pain and rebuild it into love. Our experiences is not our shame to carry. Water your roots, give yourself plenty of light and warmth, watch yourself grow from a seed to an evolved and powerful human who deserves and is capable of an infinite amount of love. Don't forget to give thanks to your body for all the trials and tribulations. To your heart for still beating and being present. Don't forget to give thanks to your resiliency And for the healing journey to arrive peacefully, in soft waves.
