Tag: trauma

Do not want to be fixed

People do not want to be fixed,
Brokenness often gets more clicks.
In a world where attention is gold,
Pain and struggles become stories told.

Brokenness becomes a badge to wear,
A way to garner sympathy and care.
Attention flows to the ones who cry,
While those who heal silently pass by.

But true healing lies in facing the pain,
In letting go of the need for gain.
It’s not about attention or fame,
But finding peace within, a sacred flame.

So let us offer support without judgment or scorn,
Encouraging growth, helping hearts be reborn.
For in lifting each other, we mend what’s torn,
And find true healing in love’s embrace, worn.

Lies Secrets & Silence

“Women have been driven mad, “gaslighted,” for centuries by the refutation of our experience and our instincts in a culture which validates only male experience. The truth of our bodies and our minds has been mystified to us. We therefore have a primary obligation to each other: not to undermine each others’ sense of reality for the sake of expediency; not to gaslight each other. …

Women have often felt insane when cleaving to the truth of our experience. Our future depends on the sanity of each of us, and we have a profound stake, beyond the personal, in the project of describing our reality as candidly and fully as we can to each other.”

― Adrienne Rich, “On Lies, Secrets, and Silence. Selected Prose 1966-1978”

Trauma

The inability to receive support from others is a trauma response.

Your “I don’t need anyone, I’ll just do it all myself” conditioning is a survival tactic. You needed it to shield your tender heart from abuse, neglect, betrayal, and disappointment from those who could not or would not be there for you.

From the parent who was absent by choice or by the circumstance of working three jobs to feed and house you.

From the lovers who offered sexual intimacy but no offered no safe haven that honoured your heart.

From the friendships that always took more than they gave.

From all the situations when someone told you “we’re in this together” then abandoned you, leaving you to pick up the pieces when shit got real, leaving you to handle your part and their part, too.

From the lies. The betrayals.

You learned along the way that you just couldn’t really trust people. Or that you could trust people, but only up to a certain point.

Ultra-independence is a *trust issue.*

You learned: if I don’t put myself in a situation where I rely on someone, I won’t have to be disappointed when they don’t show up for me, or when they drop the ball… because they will always drop the ball sooner or later, right?

You may even have been intentionally taught this protection strategy by generations of hurt ancestors who came before you.

Ultra-independence is a preemptive strike against heartbreak.

So, you don’t trust anyone.

And you don’t trust yourself, either, to choose people.

To trust is to hope, to trust is vulnerability.

“Never again,” you vowed.

But no matter how you dress it up and display it proudly to make it seem like this level of independence is what you always wanted to be, in truth it’s your wounded, scarred, broken heart behind a protective brick wall.

Impenetrable. Nothing gets in. No hurt gets in. But no love gets in either.

Fortresses and armor are for those in battle, or who believe the battle is coming.

It’s trauma response.

The good news is trauma that is acknowledged is trauma that can be healed.

You are worthy of having support.

You are worthy of having true partnership.

You are worthy of love.

You are worthy of having your heart held.

You are worthy to be adored.

You are worthy to be cherished.

You are worthy to have someone say, “You rest. I got this.” And actually deliver on that promise.

You are worthy to receive.

You are worthy to receive.

You are worthy.

You don’t have to earn it.

You don’t have to prove it.

You don’t have to bargain for it.

You don’t have to beg for it.

You are worthy.

Worthy.

Simply because you exist.

– Jamila White

art | Mark Demsteader