5.3
November 6, 2020

How it Feels to Move Up & Out of Trauma.

I feel something unraveling within me.

Untangling.

Like the knot of my shoelaces that my kindergarten fingers were unable to untie.

I feel different.

Lighter.

Happier.

Securely Attached.

Not to her.

Not to him.

But to me.

They say time heals all wounds.

I’m not sure I agree.

I look in the mirror today though and see someone different.

The eyes of my inner five-year-old still say hello.

But there’s someone else there.

It’s my adult self in full form.

She’s strong.

Knowledgeable.

Accepting and compassionate.

She’s beautiful.

Surprisingly fierce.

Her hair has darkened since her teenage years.

But her eyes remain the same—the color of evergreen trees and her heart.

I’ve never seen her before.

But she’s familiar.

She still smiles with all her teeth.

And there’s an innocence to her laughter.

Something is different, though.

There’s something about her I’ve never seen.

She’s solid.

Firm.

Brighter than ever.

A force to be reckoned with.

And yet, just as warm and kind as the day she turned five.

She has my name and my heart.

But she isn’t looking down.

And the cloudiness of her eyes is no longer there.

She’s present.

Smiling.

And not dissociating above the clouds.

Hi, Rebecca.

It’s nice to meet you.

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Rebecca Donaldson  |  Contribution: 94,220

author: Rebecca Donaldson

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Editor: Lisa Erickson

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