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I have heard several people voiced their proclaimed wisdom that traumas made us who we are today, they made us tougher, and made us grow, so, we should be grateful.
But sometimes those people who think they knew us well are really those who do not know us enough—or even entirely at all.
Traumas never make people strong. Trauma is like a cancer cell. That damned thing would creep its way even to our very bones, corrupting us, weakening our soul. It makes us weak time to time.
More likely, it's like you are hunted by it, yet you are also that hunted place: wrecked and messed-up. It howls in those times you expected, pretending to be tamed animal, but it howls as well in the most unexpected times. Like a ghost you knew at 3 am would be there sitting beside your bed but you didn’t know it would choke you to death all of a sudden.
It’s like the silence you are loving now not until it would start to kill you off. It would shoot you unexpectedly even in the barest moment if one triggers the gun.
You can never tame it. One moment you thought everything is alright with all the sun beams and rainbows, but a moment later you are again in a transition, lost and fogged with bad, bad memories, deafened by the banging raging storms of your clouded thoughts: angry and sad—a life living in gloom.
So how does it make us strong? When traumas are like stones threw in our glass-like fragile beings. What is broken cannot be fixed. What is wounded deeply cannot be easily healed anymore. Mend it the cracks will remain—the scars would remain.
It was our will to live despite the darkness that surrounded us that made us who we are now.
It was always our will live to live that helped us to survive the fall.
We picked up our broken selves that even though we cannot entirely get it back to the way it was used to, we got to innovate it, to redesign it, to paint some colors to our monotonous parts.
I was sexually harassed in a public place. And it never made part of why I am now in the process of becoming a full grown woman. It’s an insult to assumed that I learned and grew because of that trauma when in fact the trauma never really healed and the wound is still sore until now. I got used to the pain. I practiced to hide it carefully. Because there is no treatment for it and allowing it to consume me would just make weaker and vulnerable, I adapt the pain like the weather, I found a way little by little to stand up. I survive the fall, the challenge, thus, that's why I was stronger than before.
Traumas never describe you as a person. Either way, not acknowledging or acknowledging your trauma is valid. To run from it or to face it is alright. We all have ways to deal with it.To hide it deep in your shadows or to show it to the world is acceptable.
The universe appreciates you in your any ways in dealing your trauma. In the first place you are never even responsible for that wreckage. Those never really define you as a person, even your ways to deal your traumas do not define you entirely. What will define you is what person are you going to be now and then.
This makes us stronger: conditioning ourselves to have appropriate emotional responses but learning to keep moving forward. What makes us even stronger as well is the courage to free ourselves from the heavy burden of the past. You can do everything you want just to make you feel free: hiding, burying, erasing, avoiding, or forgetting, it is acceptable.
Freeing yourself from trauma might be a difficult thing for some, but once we are free from it we can then realize how good it is to stand without the weight of the world in your shoulders. How good it is to fly and be free from nightmares.
Traumas never made us strong. It is ourselves and how we survived, how we defeated the challenge, and how we got to hone ourselves to be wiser, bolder, and fiercer in facing different obstacle fate offered that made us.
A PROSE-POETRY revised from my account on Hive! I am @rene.neverfoumd there as well! Thanks for reading!
An aspirant writer and artist. To be found is my greatest dream and never be lost. Hi, I am @rene.neverfound, you can call me Rene or Esme if you like. I specialized in prose-poetry and poetry, and now I am trying new things and writing styles. I love learning! I am a 17-year-old girl living life in the Philippines. And my face-claim here is @gabi_wahl on ig. I am a total bookworm and a grade 11 student with an undying passion for writing and art. Having many dreams is a funny mess because I get confused most of time with regard to what course should I take in college. I want to be an astrologist, a doctor, a journalist, an author, a professional artist, an archaeologist, and many more I forgot to remember while writing.