Healing...

We spent a lot of time this morning talking about scars, the sort that, as you once told me, we all wear by the time you get to be our age. The funny thing is, I don’t know that there was ever really much hesitation in showing them to one another. I think there was, from the beginning, such a sense of safety between us that there was no need for fear. At least that’s how it felt for me. I laid myself bare for you, in every sense, and you did the same for me. In that act of vulnerability, those scars, for the first time, began to heal. 

Because that’s the thing; while unhealthy relationships wound us, healthy relationships heal, or, more accurately, give us the time, space, energy, and support that help us to begin to heal ourselves. I see it in me, just as I see it in you, the slow, gradual process that is the closing up of those old scars. We are breaking the patterns that hurt us, and rebuilding in their place ones which all us to overwrite them. I don’t think it’s coincidence that we both chose healing professions, my sweet girl, and I am grateful for the patience and grace you have always shown me as I do my work, and swear to continue to do the same as you do yours. I love you, with all that I am.