As a teenager, I reckoned with my childhood trauma. I stepped into the ring every day and fought the invisible forces of my past until my heart was sore and my knuckles were bloodied. When I wasn’t battling my past, I was busy building walls.
Thick, 10 ft high impenetrable walls that I thought would help keep me safe from the pain of this world. Brick by brick I felt I was building something that would keep my heart safe, because in all honestly – I wasn’t sure I had it in me to survive much more and when I looked at life I saw nothing but red flags. I lived in fear and solitude. I turned a shoulder to opportunities to give and receive love because I felt the downfall wouldn’t be worth it all.
It’s been 15 years now, and I’ve begun to destruct – but this time it’s a beautiful destruction.
One where the sledge hammer I’m swinging is tearing down these walls bit by bit. When I’m not busy taking down the walls I’ve built that left me alone with my pain, I’m building a table where everyone I’ve learned to love can gather round and laugh, and connect, and be.
I’ve opened my heart even knowing that pain is inevitable, and it feels good.
I’m 33 years old now and I’m still learning to love. I work hard to continually fall in love with myself, this life, and the humans I surround myself with. I’ve found a light inside that I never knew existed and I’m sharing that light with everyone I meet.
And the best news? I’m finally happy.