Learning to Carry Both
For the longest time, I believed healing meant becoming someone else Someone who never overthought. Never broke. Never carried the weight of old memories. I kept trying to leave pieces of myself behind, hoping that if I buried them deeply enough, I would finally feel whole But the parts I rejected never disappeared. They stayed quiet, waiting for the day I would stop treating them like enemies. The darkness was never asking to take over. It was only asking to be seen Somewhere between grief and hope, fear and courage, I realized that wholeness was never about choosing one side over the other. It was about allowing them to exist in the same heart without forcing either one to disappear Maybe healing isn't the moment the darkness is gone and maybe healing begins the moment we learn to carry both
