I choose to feel the pain. Pain and nightmares. Healing takes place in the open. I’m starting to drag my shadows from the darkness, to let them breath. Wounds that were once five inches deep are now beautiful scares I look at. My little reminders of the proof I’m capable of healing. The reminders of pain I once have felt. To letting myself appreciate the moments of happiness and bliss. To not be ashamed of my broken. To saying goodbye to the “band aids”. I’m not going to be a chameleon and have a desperate urge to fit in and wear the appropriate mask to the appropriate occasions. I’m not going to tell people what they want to hear anymore. Even though it hurts to rip off the “band aids” and show the ugly I have within that’s been festering to hide for so long, I’m not ashamed of who I once was. I’m actually quite proud of all the feelings I have felt. There is nothing easy about wanting to choose to expose my broken self. It will leave me vulnerable, maybe fragile, it will feel raw. It will hurt like hell. For I have simply been strong way too long.
“Life will break you. Nobody can protect you from that, and living alone won’t either, for solitude will also break you with its yearning. You have to love. You have to feel. It is the reason you are here on earth. You are here to risk your heart. You are here to be swallowed up. And when it happens that you are broken, or betrayed, or left, or hurt, or death brushes near, let yourself sit by an apple tree and listen to the apples falling all around you in heaps, wasting their sweetness. Tell yourself you tasted as many as you could.” ― Louise Erdrich