Finding this writing from years ago felt like reading something some forgotten part of me was trying to tell me now.
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We all have wounds. Some of those wounds heal and leave scars. Others are just barely holding themselves together, hoping that the smallest impact doesn’t happen or else they’ll crack wide open. Some just won’t stop bleeding as we continually try to heal them or throw another bandaid on just to move throughout our day to day lives.
But what if there’s a thorn buried under our skin and trying to pull that thorn out periodically actually just opens that wound more each time. Can that thorn just become a part of us instead? Should we just let our body heal over it, knowing that as time goes on it’ll probably hurt just a little less or maybe eventually we won’t even remember that it’s there. Or should we keep digging for it, hands covered in blood, making that shit so much worse with every attempt?
Maybe some things aren’t meant to heal and just leave a scar. Maybe we have to accept that people, places, or experiences leave something under our skin, forever changing us and the way we move through this world. Maybe rather than just a scar, our bodies have to learn how to hold that thorn because it is a part of us now whether we want it to be or not. Maybe some things are meant to stay and rather than feeling like there’s some foreign, painful thing under our skin, we need to just accept that it’s a part of us instead.
I’m not sure all grief, loss, pain, or trauma can leave our bodies. In fact, I’m starting to think that it’s not all meant to and that, actually, some of it is supposed to just find a home somewhere deep in us.
I use the word the home very intentionally there. It’s not some dark box that we’re shoving it into, hoping to keep it at bay. I use ‘home’ because maybe it just needs to be welcomed in and given a room so that it can coexist rather than feel like it’s being hidden or cast out. Sure, we’ll bump into it from time to time – how can you not when living with someone or something else – but that doesn’t mean that bump has to escalate into something more. Maybe healing isn’t in constantly trying to fix whatever is wrong with us, maybe it’s just accepting what is, what’s happened, or maybe even what didn’t happen. Maybe instead of fighting some of our demons, we’re supposed to make room for them and learn to live with them instead.
So today I’m opening the door of my home to one of my demons, one of those thorns I’ve been digging at for years. Let’s learn how to coexist. I’ll dress in my best and show you the kind of gracious host I can be. I’ll make your bed and tuck you in at night because we’ve fought for far too long and I care too much about this home to let you destroy it from the inside out while I sleep. I’ll even kiss you goodnight and tell you sweet dreams so that maybe we can both finally get some rest and dream our own dreams rather than you haunting me in my nightmares.
