So out of my scars great lessons have been learned. And for them I am a better person. I am compelled to struggle and suffer with those around me and to help relieve their pain, as much as possible. For this I suppose I should be grateful for the neglect and abuse I endured at a way too early age. For now I get it. Now I understand. We must all stand as a community rather than alone and reach out to those who need us the most.
I remember the little girl in me who had been wounded by life at a tender young age. A little girl who went on to adapt to others expectations by trying to please everyone, no matter the repercussions, because she was so fearful of disapproval and drawing outside of the lines. In finding compassion for others, she has become able to cradle a ragged old stuffed rabbit, that has no nose, every night and release that injured part of herself, as she soon realized this rabbit was indeed herself.
Now I get it. Now I know I am enough. Now this little girl feels and listens deeply to the silent and sometimes not so silent cries of others, and with everything in her, she tries to help them in whatever way she can, for in so doing she find she is healing herself.