“You cannot heal what you pretend doesn't hurt.”
Some pain is loud and obvious. But most of it? It hums in the background.
It’s the tension in your jaw. The hesitation before trust. The stories you tell yourself at 2 a.m.
We carry wounds like they are still happening — guarding against a threat that already passed.
You don’t have to unpack everything today. You don’t even have to understand it all.
You only have to become aware: *What am I still holding? And does it still need to be held?*
This is not about blame. It’s about freedom. The past did happen. And you survived it.
Now, slowly, breath by breath — you get to decide what comes with you, and what does not.
Find a quiet space and sit with your spine upright. Close your eyes and scan your body slowly from head to toe. When you find tension, gently breathe into that place. Ask silently: 'What are you holding here?' Then exhale — as if releasing a small stone from your hands.
Write down three things you know you’re still carrying from the past — events, words, betrayals. Fold the paper, place it under something heavy, and say: 'I don’t have to hold this alone anymore.'
Jenna L. “For years, I said I had moved on — but my body told the truth. I clenched, flinched, froze. This lesson cracked something open. I cried. Then breathed. Then slept without nightmares for the first time in weeks.”
You are not the weight. You are the one becoming free of it.