Pem: Healing the Trauma

Healing is not a moment—
it is a quiet returning.

Not the sudden closing of wounds,
but the slow knitting of breath
to body,
of memory
to meaning.

Some days it feels like breaking again—
like the past has teeth,
and it remembers your name.
But even then,
there is a small, stubborn light
that refuses to go out.

Healing is learning
that your story did not end
where the hurt began.

It is the trembling courage
to sit with what aches,
to listen without running,
to say: this mattered,
I mattered.

There is no straight path—
only spirals,
only seasons.
You will revisit old places
and find you are no longer
the same person standing there.

And one morning, quietly,
without ceremony,
you will notice—

the weight is different.
The air feels wider.
Your name,
in your own voice,
sounds like something
you are finally ready
to keep.