On the Other Side of Who You've Been

I used to be one of the most closed off people I’ve ever met. Many people who knew me then wouldn’t have seen it. I didn’t even fully see it. There were parts of my heart inaccessible even to me.

I experienced some significant trauma in my childhood. My instinctual response was to protect my heart and mind by becoming strong and independent. I lost tenderness in choosing perceived safety. I saw the world in black and white to create stability.

Then, at 19, I was diagnosed with a disease that changed the way I looked at my future. The ground of my life shook, so I built better defenses. I exchanged more tenderness for perceived strength. And I rewrote my story.

I lived this way until I was diagnosed with cancer at 27. What a gift that diagnosis was for me. I didn’t have the strength required. There was no promised safety. And independence would kill me. The way I rewrote my story to protect my heart fell apart. I’m so grateful it fell apart.

I’ve lived more than half my life with chronic pain and illness. I’ve lived with a broken heart and a broken body. I learned a long time ago that pain is an indicator. But it’s not my story.

Pain shouts with a loud, commanding voice. But in the quiet-within there is another voice. While it doesn’t shout, it is steadfast. And that sure steadiness is so loud.

Sometimes our undoing is our becoming.

I began to learn that the impacts of my trauma could be undone. That pain can push you to see what is actually real and true. That death isn’t always a death sentence. Sometimes it’s a gate to life. And sometimes, when you lose yourself, you find yourself. And when that happens, you come alive.

For many years, I shaped my world with safety and independence. Then I went on an unexpected journey. And the violence that had torn my heart, soul, and body apart...it was unmade. I began to know love and acceptance that healed my heart, soul, and body. And that love began to take over my whole world.

I guess, all I'm really saying is, sometimes, who you are is on the other side of who you’ve been.