As I look back on the process of writing out my story, I’ve recognized a consistent theme.
There are chunks of my life that I haven’t written about. They haven’t been shared because there’s a lack of events or lessons learned, I haven’t written because I can’t remember. I’ve blocked out a lot throughout my childhood. I remember little bits and pieces but there are so many details, stories and events that I have simply shoved beneath the surface. Is it because I lived that part of my life in survival mode? Is it because there are too many times of pain and anxiety that my mind has tried to protect itself from remembering? Maybe a combination of both?
I know there are repressed memories in there that need to be let out and I know that by choosing to try and uncover those, I may bring unwelcome emotions and reactions to the surface.
Bravery, though, right?
That’s the whole point of writing, of blogging, of sharing my story.
This is a journey. I want to be the most wholesome and healed version of myself, but I am unable to do this if I don’t take the time to dig more into my childhood. I have to unpack, acknowledge and process. In doing that, I hope to find healing and I hope to find growth.
So, if something I post is about a high school experience and the next is about when I turned eight, know that I am a work in progress. I am following the detour signs, while filling in the potholes and smoothing over the cracks, with the goal of gaining more comprehension and understanding of who I am.
Each of us is comes to the table with different stories, different memories and different events that have shaped us into who we are today. We can let the past define who we are today, or work through what we’ve been through to heal and develop a healthier version of who we are. Taking the latter path will not be easy or predictable; it’s hard work and can come with a lot of unknown surprises, but if it gives the hope of healing and restoration, then count me in.
What are you going to do?