If You're Hurting Too: You're Not What Broke You

I see you.
I know what it feels like to live with
the weight of things no one else can see.

To be shaped by pain you didn't choose.
Then blamed for not smiling through it.
But I also know this: You are not your illness.
You are not the worst thing you've survived.

You're still rolling. And out here? That's enough.

Out here, where forests grow after fire,
where rivers carve their way around stone,
we too are healing in cycles.

Just like the land doesn't judge the scars left
by lightning strikes or wildfires,
we don't have to hide our own marks.

The earth doesn't try to erase the pain of the past.
It simply regenerates every spring,
new life pushes through the soil,
even after the coldest winter.
We can do the same.

Our healing doesn't need to look like perfection.
It doesn't need to be clean, fast, or free from scars.

Sometimes healing is slow and silent.
Sometimes messy, always moving.

Healing doesn't erase the past, but it transforms it.

Like old-growth forest weathered by storms,
scarred by time and shaped by loss.
We too grow into something new, stronger,
because of what we've endured.

Even in the depths of hurt,
there's always potential for new growth.
For a quiet return to balance.

You are the forest after the storm.
You are the river carving its path.
And out here? That's enough.

* * *

→ Related: Window Trail
→ Also: When Rest Isn't a Reward

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Explore Slow Wisdom for more reflection

Peer reflection, not therapy advice. Your healing journey is uniquely yours.