Revisiting the Past

Jun 19

Letting go of our past is one of our hardest lessons. Perhaps we never do "get over" our secrets and scars. Insecurities of our childhood and adolescence may linger into adulthood. Feelings may even come and go. Once we finally muster strength and accumulate confidence, flashbacks may occur unexpectedly.

But here's the thing: Healing isn't a one-and-done occurrence. It's a constant circle of growth and awareness.

Although healing and letting go looks different for each of us, taking steps forward is critical to our current and future careers, relationships, and total health—the mind, body, and soul connection is powerful.

Sometimes, letting go means seeking help. Letting go may also look like forgiving others (and grudges) even when we don't fully understand their reasoning or agree. It could be moving on from less-than-ideal situations while finally implementing boundaries. Letting go means finally acknowledging and accepting hard truths and creating new memories to combat our pain.

We must rest in what is from a rational, outside perspective rather than our personal lingering questions of what ifs.

At 30, wounds opened after a few negative experiences in my late twenties. These negative experiences affected me profoundly and then came the flashbacks of my past. The floodgates opened seemingly overnight, and three decades of suppression hit me immediately. It was as if I felt every scar I'd ever felt and felt every harsh word repeated in my head over and over again. I got out of toxic environments, hoping that would help. However, I was still reliving the past and hurting, but this time, it felt different.

I was ready to heal, prepared to tackle all the feelings because I knew it was needed to move on.

So, I soaked in every emotion. I wrote down everything and anything that came to mind. I accepted what I couldn't control and mourned a life I didn't have.

Little did I know I hadn't reached my breaking point yet. Restorative healing came when I was at my lowest low—the chapter when emotional baggage turned physical.

For two years prior, I dealt with dizziness and migraines, enough to impair my everyday. Doctor after doctor, I couldn't find the root cause. Anxiety and depression spiraled until I found myself crawling deeper into physical suffering. Then came the realization that I was dealing with mold. My spirits dwindled, and for nearly six more months, I truly felt out of control in my body.

I could barely drive because my head felt drunk. I couldn't go to the store because, all of a sudden, I had extreme light sensitivity and felt like my head was spinning. I couldn't watch TV or listen to music. And at my worst, I was couch-bound because I could barely breathe sitting still. Talking out loud took far too much effort. I joked and said I felt 90 years old on my deathbed.

To find healing, I uprooted my entire life and found my saving grace. Over time, I listened to the nudges and saw glimpses of my former self. I felt hope and reassurance for the first time in years. A series of drastic choices led me to where I'm at today. It sounds crazy, but death feels uncomfortably near when dealing with mold or intense chronic health issues. Every shallow breath becomes heavier with each inhale.

It took around a year after moving and uprooting, but I never knew I could feel myself again.

Again, this past year, I've realized how emotional health can quickly turn physical. Obsessive, toxic thoughts can turn to stress-induced headaches or low energy. We can still encounter destructive patterns. We can still feel lost and abandoned, begging for answers. We all deal with varying degrees of stress, worry, and trauma. Yet, we all process and handle situations differently—all of those things can weigh us down.

We can feel triggered and lonely but also hold onto hope. Both can be true.

When I feel out of control in my mind or body, I remind myself of my hope and healing every day: where I was, where I am, and how far I've come.

Our lives can improve whether we're suffering from decades of hurt or going through a challenging transitional phase. We may need help or do some digging. But we also won't be left empty-handed when we center our hearts around God.

Life may look like an uphill battle of tiny wins, but remember that the overall snapshot is still glorious despite our distorted lens.

If you're feeling the weight of past trauma, rest your soul on this message: