Dedication: To all the women who feel like their existence doesn’t matter.
I felt like my heart had been so thoroughly and irreparably broken that there could be no real joy again, that at best there might eventually be a little contentment. Everyone wanted me to get help and rejoin life, pick up the pieces and move on, and I tried to, I wanted to, but I just had to lie in the mud with my arms wrapped around myself, eyes closed, grieving, until I didn’t have to anymore. It was either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. But I knew and understood that I would heal only if I allow myself to go through the pain , because there was no other way it could pass through me. The process was hard and long, I almost gave up. I had zero help. There were people around me, telling me what I needed to do in order to heal, but nobody fully understood me. I helped myself. The scars left on me, I wish they remain forever, so that I’m always reminded of how strong I was and still am. I don’t owe this to anyone else but me. It takes so much strength to put down what I am feeling into words, but If I was to go back and change something from the past I would change none of it. Because it made me the person I am today. Stronger than ever. So you see, healing starts when you accept your suffering and pain. You aren’t alone
Photo credit: Image courtesy of the storyteller.