You think you're acting out because of one specific trauma until you take a closer look and realize that you're responding to multiple traumatic moments that have all meshed into one.

You think you're wary of new love because of the last long-term relationship you had - that left you mentally, physically, and emotionally spent - when in actuality, your fear of abandonment comes from the would-bes who let you down and a dash of family trauma from way back when.

You think you're afraid of being made to look like a fool "just because" but you've had it ingrained in your mind that any guy who isnn't him won’t take you seriously and now you've carried that fear with you wherever you go.

Trauma doesn't happen individually. It builds up until it has convinced you that this is your personality. And now, as you go through the necessary ways of healing - therapy, counseling, etc. - you find yourself afraid of letting go because who are you outside of it?

Who are you outside of the violence? The shame? The fear?

What does your voice sound like when it isn't constantly telling you to be careful? To be wary of any form of good because it never lasts around here? Who are you when life starts falling into place and the unrest you knew so comfortably is no longer there? Who are you without the chaos?

When it's all gone, what remains?

Sometimes the idea of being free is a lot sweeter than actually becoming free because we don't realize how much of the madness we've become accustomed to. Or, rather, we fear letting go of it because what comes next? Rather the devil we know, right?

That's so limiting. Understandable, but so limiting. Holding on to a debilitating present out of fear of what the future holds. My life felt a lot like that for a while. I found it easier to define my life and its trajectory of trauma. To be fair, anyone would hold on to that for a while. But it needed to come to an end.

I was there wanting to be free but instead of freedom, I was tightening the grip of the hold this pain had on me. It took up space in my relationships. In my hangovers. In my friendship catchups. In my mind. In therapy. And I felt I was well within reason to have it occupy this space because it broke me. But what good was speaking about it, end on end, when I was trying to heal? You can't heal from the thing that broke you if you keep giving it center stage in your mind.

You don't realize that the crutch you're holding on to…you actually don't need it. You can walk without it...you're better without it.

As I write this, I still am working on not looking for that crutch. I'm learning to be okay with the gaps in who I am. The gaps that remained when I separated what happened to me from who I am.

Because I don't want trauma as a part of me. We don't pair well. There are others who wear their trauma well. Who have been able to meld it with their personas and make it work. I am none such.

There isn't a day I am grateful for the things I have been through. There is no silver lining, just grey clouds that I continue to walk away from. But I can be grateful that, despite it all, I am here. Still breathing. Still living. Still.

And it is an ongoing process it is. Because sometimes you don't realize where this damn trauma has embedded itself until a new situation comes up.

For me, it showed up in new love. A new love that did not come with a trauma bond, disrespect, or pain. Suddenly I didn't know who I was without the chaos, but instead of returning to the former, I've chosen to move through the now.

And remind myself that love happens. Do I want it to stay? Do I hope it has stayed by the time I publish this? Of course. But in the event it does not, I must remind myself that I will not die.

There is an abundant amount of love in this world and I hold on to that. Not just romantic love. Platonic love too. But you have to be a little brave and a little crazy to keep looking because people will disappoint you.

And it will still hurt.

I’m okay with that.

I’d rather keep moving than let the fear of “what could go wrong” hold me back. I’ve had enough of that.