My body is releasing eighteen years of feeling trapped.
And fifteen more years of holding on to it in the deepest sense, searching for safety.
It’s ok to want to release it, with the people that feel safe, in the spaces that feel good. Over and over, until it’s not a need anymore.
One day, I won’t feel the aching urge to unlock the trapped, hurting, extremely emotional parts of me because they will have found peace from being heard and seen and feeling loved enough times for all the times it was unsafe before.
But until then, there is no timeline for seeking the love, care, and compassion I need to thrive.