The hardest battle we fight in healing trauma is against ourselves.

I was driving 80mph across I-70 West, heading from Indiana, a place that I had called home for so long that I didn’t know anything else and I was terrified. Through the great plains, I saw incredible showcases of nature’s power in the form of lightning storms and, at one point, just within the boundaries of Idaho, a tornado that was so wide it could probably eat a city. The road West was long and lonely but gave me time to reflect on what exactly it was that was happening- I was finally putting myself first. I could feel the warmth of the tears drip down my cheeks and fall until my hands; I hadn’t cried in so long that I had forgotten the salty taste. But these weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of accomplishment because I was finally taking care of myself first.

Coming from a home of vicious childhood trauma, I often found myself not leaning into the parts of me that felt real. My wants, needs, and interests were never validated, and more often than not, they were used against me. The idea of being the person that I am was a death sentence in most cases. Our home was status quo for children are better to be seen and not heard, though existing alone could be the catalyst for a trip to the executioner’s block. I spent so much time hiding from who I was that I had no choice but to step into the unknown. The only thing on my…