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I don’t like to use the word “healing” anymore.
And I feel the same way about the word “resilience.”
As someone who was scapegoated and harmed by my family of origin and who struggled to put myself through school and “stay strong,” these words really bother me.
Though I am in a place today in which I am able to speak about the pain I feel and that of the little girl inside me, I do not believe in this “healing” word because no matter how good it gets, these experiences will forever be with me. They will always sting a bit.
But I also don’t wish to rid my being of them because they are part of my story.
I think we seek too often to “heal” instead of to hold ourselves. I believe there is a difference.
I also think that we seek pleasure too often in this world—hedonic pleasure. Pleasure is great, but it’s not the happiness that will sustain us.
We need meaning.
We need purpose.
We need to look around and direct our energy toward a greater whole—a greater community.
I recently watched Joni Mitchell sing with Wynonna Judd, and it brought tears to my eyes.
I don’t believe Wynonna will ever “heal” from the death of her mother.
I don’t believe she needs to “remain resilient” either. What she needs is to be allowed to grieve however she wishes and to be held in community, lovingly.
I don’t wish to heal anymore.
I don’t wish to find ways to be resilient.
I just wish to lovingly hold all of me—all of my parts—with compassion, and to be amongst others doing the same.
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