I thought I was over it…

My body reminded me I wasn’t

I wasn't expecting to walk out of therapy yesterday feeling like I'd been hit by a truck.

The crazy part?

We didn't even start the actual trauma work yet.

This week I went to therapy to prepare for EMDR. We were simply identifying the memories we're going to begin reprocessing next week.

That's it.

No processing.

Just... naming them.

Just answering questions about what occurred, how it affected me then and now…

And somehow that alone completely stirred something up inside me.

I got off my session thinking, How can something that ended over fifteen years ago still feel this fresh?

It honestly caught me off guard.

For those who don't know, EMDR is a therapy that helps your brain and nervous system process traumatic memories that never got stored correctly. Instead of those memories continuing to feel like they're happening in the present, EMDR helps your brain recognize that they belong in the past. The goal isn't to erase what happened. It's to remove the emotional charge your body still carries every time something reminds you of it.

I haven't even started the reprocessing part yet.

And yet my body already remembered.

My chest got tight.

My energy shifted.

Old emotions I haven't felt in years suddenly felt like they had happened yesterday.

That experience made me realize something.

We spend so much time trying to bury pain because we think that's what healing looks like.

Keep moving.

Stay busy.

Don't think about it.

"It was so long ago."

"You should be over it."

Except that's not how trauma works.

Trauma doesn't disappear because time passes.

It waits.

It hides.

It shows up when your partner raises their voice, even if they're not yelling at you.

It shows up when someone questions you.

It shows up when you struggle to trust people who have done nothing wrong.

It shows up when you constantly prepare for something bad to happen.

It shows up in your body before your mind even realizes you've been triggered.

That's the thing nobody really talks about.

Your body remembers what your mind has worked so hard to forget.

And honestly...

That breaks my heart.

Not for who I am today.

For the woman I was.

I was barely twenty years old.

Broken. Hurt.

Lonely.

Desperately wanting someone to love me.

An older man came into my life and I thought I had finally found someone who saw me.

Looking back now, I wasn't loved.

I was controlled.

His jealousy made me think he cared.

His possessiveness made me think I mattered.

Then only a few months into the relationship, the emotional abuse became physical.

I wish I could go back and hug that version of me.

I wish I could tell her that healthy love doesn't make you afraid.

That you never have to earn love by accepting pain.

That leaving doesn't make you weak.

That none of this is your fault.

But she didn't know.

She stayed because she believed this was as good as it was ever going to get.

And honestly...

I think that's the part that makes me cry the hardest now.

Not because I'm ashamed.

Because I know how desperately she wanted to be loved.

For years I pushed those memories down.

I convinced myself they didn't matter anymore.

Life moved on.

I built a career.

I got married.

I found joy.

I built a business centered around healing.

But those experiences were still quietly living inside my nervous system.

Waiting.

I think that's why I get so passionate when people dismiss therapy.

Or medication.

Or healing.

Or mental health.

Or survivors.

Because I've lived what happens when we don't deal with our pain.

It doesn't disappear.

It changes shape.

It finds new places to hide.

It quietly influences relationships.

Confidence.

Boundaries.

The way we speak to ourselves.

The way we let people treat us.

The way we love.

The way we receive love.

The way we believe we're worthy.

Healing isn't pretending something didn't happen.

Healing is finally becoming safe enough to look at it.

For me, that's what this season is.

Not reopening old wounds for the sake of suffering.

Finally giving them the attention they deserved all along.

This experience has already stolen enough from me.

Enough years.

Enough peace.

Enough confidence.

Enough energy.

Enough thoughts.

It doesn't get another minute.

It doesn't get to come into my marriage.

It doesn't get to dictate how I show up in relationships.

It doesn't get to convince me I'm hard to love.

It doesn't get to decide my future.

It certainly doesn't get to define my worth.

This story is part of me.

But it is not me.

If you're carrying something you've been pretending doesn't hurt anymore, can I lovingly remind you of something?

Healing doesn't happen because we're strong enough to carry it.

Healing happens when we're finally brave enough to put it down.

That's why I believe so deeply in therapy.

It's why I believe in coaching alongside therapy.

It's why I believe in nervous system work, subconscious reprogramming, EMDR, somatic healing, and all of the different paths that help people come home to themselves.

Because I've learned something I wish someone had told me years ago.

You are not weak because your body remembers.

You are not broken because you're still healing.

You are simply human.

And maybe, just maybe...

It's finally time to let yourself heal instead of just survive.