The Pain of Healing | Why Our Stories Matter

From infancy, we're conditioned to protect ourselves from the things that cause us pain.

Even my 3 year old understands well enough why he has to stay away from the oven when it's on, though he has yet to experience that kind of burn.

We build walls around our hearts to shelter ourselves on the inside from the things that we're afraid might hurt us (or from the things that hurt too much) and, sometimes, those things are the people we're closest to.

Deep down, I believe it's in our human nature to want - to need - to connect.

I believe our own individual experiences and perspectives matter, and that our sufferings can make a difference.

When we open our hearts and share our stories (even the painful, not-so-pretty ones without happily-ever-afters), our hurt empowers.



Our stories can point others to God.

Physically, when our hearts are broken, we allow others to open us up so we can be mended, then put back together, again.

Why, then, when it comes to the emotionalmental, and spiritual nature of our insides, do we resist opening our sensitive hearts so we can allow ourselves to be mended, and put back together again?

Is it fear of being made too vulnerable?


Being misunderstood?

Fear of seeing ourselves for who and what we really are on the inside?

Why do we attack others when they are brave enough to open themselves up?

Simply ignoring - or denying, altogether - the cuts of our past, both the self-inflicted and the damage caused by others, is like trying to hide a gaping wound beneath a patchwork quilt of band-aids.  We are still hurt, still bleeding underneath it all, and sooner or later, infection will poison us from the inside out if we don't reach out and ask for help.

Instead, we need to acknowledge who we are and where we've been - the imperfection, the ugliness of it all - come face to face with our pain, forgive, and let it all go.

I believe that's how we truly begin to heal, move forward with our lives, and grow.

Here's what I hope for When Home is Not a Place







No pretending.

No hiding.

No walking on egg shells.

I want this to be a place where it's okay to hurt, and to talk openly about it.

I believe, no matter who we are or where we find ourselves in life, we are not alone.

Our stories matter.

When Home is Not a Place is where I come to tell mine.  Share yours.

No comments:

Post a Comment