“Pain that’s never voiced becomes a prison. Pain that’s heard becomes a path.”
Some pain never got to speak.
You moved on. You got busy. You said 'it’s fine' so many times it became a script.
But pain has a voice. It doesn’t always need to scream — but it does need to be heard.
Avoiding it doesn’t protect you. It just keeps the ache alive in quieter ways: tension, fatigue, numbness.
So today, give your pain five minutes of truth.
*Let it say what it needed to say back then.*
*Let it tell you what it lost, what it longed for, what it feared.*
And then — when it’s been heard — let it rest.
You are not betraying it by letting it go. You are honoring it by finally listening.
Feel it. Hear it. Then gently release it like breath into sky.
Sit in stillness and imagine a younger version of yourself carrying a burden. Ask them, 'What do you need to say?' Let them speak — in images, sensations, or words. Listen fully. Then say: 'Thank you. I heard you. You don’t have to carry it alone anymore.'
Set a timer for five minutes and write non-stop from the voice of your pain. Don’t censor. Don’t analyze. Let it be raw. Then close your journal. Place your hand over your heart. Say aloud: 'You’ve been heard. You’re safe now. I’m here.'
Rowan D. “I never gave myself time to actually feel what happened. I just kept going. But when I finally let myself write from that place of pain — everything changed. It felt like I finally honored what I’d survived. And it softened me in the best way.”
Pain doesn’t want to stay. It just wants to be acknowledged before it goes.