An open letter to your future therapist,
When you crawl inside the hidden corners of her wardrum and begin to dust off the fractures in her memory, there are a few things you may like to know as to ensure she gets the most out of the road blocks back to the behaviors that dismantle her tomorrows before she even starts.
Please invest in her like you would your sister, who is afraid of swimming, yet she reenacts the iceberg scene on the titanic every day. Throw her more than a life raft.
Sit in it with her. She may never tell you that fear paralyzes her from being able to swim for her own life. But she will be the one ushering everyone else in. Making sure they have doggie bags and warm sweaters. She would give them the life vest from her own neck to hope all the others make it to safety.
Help her make it to safety.
Being raised by the Clevers can hurt. More than being someones punching bag for fists. Inadequacies are born in all that not allowed to have a real emotion, or a hair out of place... what would the neighbors think. Keeping up with those Jones' children makes an awfully high price tag for the emptiness that chases whole.
She may not tell you she was lonely. So she filled up her nights/body/nose with distractions. Alot of em. Until not enough of anything was a worthy medicine and everything felt broken and ailing. It was a plausible way to get their attention. Limp wristing it gets you seen.
Please SEE her. Beyond her Super Hero cape and her freckles. More than the way she makes people laugh and smells like rain. Please SEE the way she is easily over stimulated by loud noises. depth. Intimacy. Touch that begs the surface of her REAL to open up a little and let her deseving in.
help her get reacquainted with that deserving.
Introduce her to Sunrise. Remind her, I was only ever trying to love her. Because from hello I saw the entire world in her smile. Only so badly wanted to curl up in the safety of her love because its so rare ill trust someone with mine. Tell her im sorry our wounds matched. But im reenforcing the floors in my trick heart. Plugging the bullet holes. Finding my way to a lifetime friendship. Hell bent on cheering her on. Wanting her happy. Even if its without me.
If I could teach you anything about her. The one thing that will bring her home to a skin warm and finally wanting to a contentment of more. Its that her medicine is her loving. It gets confused for romance and lust. Confused for wanting to be bent over her dirty thoughts and sexy mouth. When all she often wants to do is ease peoples pain. Make love to it. Fill a Someone from the hollow in their Soul to brimming.
If I could ask you anything FOR her... id ask that you teach her how to want and allow that for herself. A give and take of skin food. Of learning to receive her own medicine. Laid back and healed, pain made love to. Soul, brimming.
She has said, she fears she has nothing to give, but has so much to lose. The most i could want for you to teach her is to finally trust Someone with her fall.
A woman who will always love her
a lot of amy's ability to serve as a bridge for people comes from her poetic observation. as a writer, poet, coach, mother, friend and peace agent- she lives a passionate life of authentic after authentic moment that includes a spectrum of color, growth and humanity supported by Spirit.