Understanding Where I Was Fractured

I used to struggle understanding how someone could withstand so much pressure; yet find peace to bestow love to others. Its a learned skill that requires patience + devotion. Not at the same time; but consistently acknowledging the duality of both. Every evolution begins with a problem + for me it was my trauma. I have learned to embrace those parts of myself that were meant to be a hinderance. I have cultivated every lesson as something to pass on to others. I recognize that people crumble underneath the symptoms of trauma much quicker than just confessing the disease. Nothing is more sobering than the sound of your truth on someone else’s lips. I guess that’s why I am not afraid of being broken in an effort to be great.

I wish I could say that it was my abandonment that fractured me or possibly the emotional neglect. Maybe even the physical abuse of carrying the scars of a woman that never advocated for her own inner child. I have even considered the perils of watching my father struggle with substance abuse or just the pressure put on him by the same society that overlooked him. I could even argue the domestic violence I witnessed was disturbing + how devastating it was being raised by a parent that struggled with mental health issues was exhausting. However, I have accepted that my injury was my parents marriage + the wounds were a product of that fracture. My inner child needed two parents + the thing I needed most; yet lost became the greatest gift to myself + others.