I think of how you sit in a new place for the first time, in a new house, at a friend’s or family’s, and how uncomfortable it can be. Like the floor underneath us will give way if we even flinch. Then we leave and comeback, and slowly the feeling withers away and is replaced by something else. And finally, when we’ve come back enough, we are relaxed and open.
I think that feeling of insecurity was the reason I spent so much time in these four walls. This is my bubble, my sanctuary, and more than anything, my excuse from the world outside.
But now, towards the end of the first year, with the therapy and the self reflection, I feel myself beginning to heal. I think my novel has helped me deal with it and this blog, you guys and your likes and your comments and your funny stories helped me too.
It wasn’t easy. My convalescence took time.
Trust is like that. If it’s broken once, then it feels like trusting again would be a fool’s mistake. Fool me twice, as they say. One hurt can make you think about other hurts that haven’t happened yet and you begin to live that way, wondering when the floor is going to cave in under your feet.
But eventually we all tip toe out of our shells, curious about the unknown
That only happens when we stop worrying about the small imperfections in ourselves and in others, which only happens when we learn to let go of the hurt. It isn’t easy , and it isn’t simple. But it is worth it.
So breathe in, wiggle into that previously unknown chair and breathe out. You can do this. I believe in you.