Speaking my truth

“All I ever wanted was for you to love me.” The words were honest, from a secret place inside of her that she had, up until that moment, never found. She had an inkling that it existed. She went to therapy to find it, but she had never before been able to access it. Now that she finally had, it felt sacred. If she could imagine the place inside of her where those words had come from, she would imagine it as a very dark corner, almost shy with darkness, inside a forest. It is a secluded space overgrown by lush green moss that softens the surface. There is a tree with dark bark and water mists the air, darkening the bark even further. From the outside it looks like a secluded happy little, slightly shy, magical spot. It’s only when one tries to access the place that one discovers the welted scar, old and crusted from where the bark tried to take back what was meant to be his, on the secluded side of the tree. That is where these painfully honest words are kept, where they whisper through the leaves of the tree when the wind picks up, where they dissolve in the misty water in the air and slip down the green mossy ground and into the nearby river. I am not sure if this will ever heal, I think, whilst empathetically pressing my hand against the healthy bark, right next to the welt, but I sure hope it does.

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