Of my 56 years of lived experiences, I can easily recall the most difficult, horrific, and life-defining moments with complete clarity. So, it should be no surprise why I, like so many before me, repressed the hell out of them. Sure, repression can and did work as a temporary coping mechanism, but make no mistake—it eventually fails. When my life started to unravel, I knew I had a decision to make: I could either put on fresh bandages and go my merry way or rip off the old ones and assess the wounds beneath. I chose the latter. It's a gross analogy, I know, but it's aptly chosen because sometimes that’s the way life goes.

 

This introspection, though tough and slow, helped me understand my past, my reactions, and what I needed to forgive and/or change. My healing happened through thorough self-reflection, brutal honesty, and the unwavering support of my community and loved ones.

 

If you're facing similar struggles, I urge you to take that first brave step towards healing. Seek professional help, lean on your loved ones, and most importantly, kind to yourself. It won't be easy, but the journey is worth it. Let's begin this path to healing together.