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How odd to finally realise that even now as a grown up woman I am coping with childhood trauma same way as when I was 9 years old. Because I am not that little girl, but I still cannot speak my truth. My chest locks up, I start choking on words and have rushing thoughts "if you speak up, you will be abandoned and unloved. because what you believe or what you say is just imagination, a lie. protect yourself because it's the only way to survive". And it's so upsetting, that I was robbed from my own voice, mind, expression, feelings. I was robbed from myself. I cannot move on, because it's safe. And even though people will treat me the same way, as how i was treated as a child, I will stay. I will stay not because it's fair and I feel fine that someone does not like my opinion, or thinks my mind is to chaotic, but because it's the only way I know. Only way I know is to shrink myself to enable another human, who cannot deal with emotions, to be validated and in control of their own selfishness. But... when no is around, I sink into despair and urge to rise myself and tell who I am, what I believe, how I see myself and be capable to put my shattered pieces together into one imperfect piece of art. At the end, everything with time changes colours and shapes, by being out there, but that doesn't mean it's any worse. I just want to be heard and not be treated as that baby who was scared for life and needs my constant reassurance that I will take care of her. Because at the end she will believe that she is enough even on her own.
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