The time I allowed Myself to Heal….

When I say the word “Heal”, what comes to mind?

Does you mind instantly turn to physical pain first or are you met with flashes of unsettling childhood trauma ?

For me, it was a combination of both.

I was living a life trying to ignore the queasiness of my past whilst not realising that my disregard of this was hindering my present day. I began to find comfort in the questions I left unanswered and my spirit that was broken.

I had no desire of fixing myself because I didn’t know I was broken.

It’s like being under water. When you are in the water and you dive in or swim to bottom, it becomes impossible to really determine whether you are really wet because water is all around you. In that moment, you know nothing apart from that water you are in. You are not able to comprehend life out if it.

That is what it feels like to be surrounded by your brokeness. It becomes the norm. It becomes a comfortable mess.

That’s all I felt for a long time before I decided to Heal.

Healing for me, looked like being honest with myself and holding my flaws up to a mirror. Healing for me looked like, saying I forgive you even when they didn't say I’m sorry.

Healing for me was allowing myself to do so.

It was being okay with not being okay. It was not being the strong friend all the time and being okay with it. It was letting go of all the power I had given other people.

My healing was putting me first.

My healing was one of the best things I have ever done.