Just be real with me

A friend of mine has created a podcast about healing.  http://newnormal.life/

As I listened to his story, I was struck by his honesty.  It was raw, real, and heartfelt.

I believe that when we share our pain, we heal. When we are bold enough to bare our broken souls to one another, we heal. When we leave the comfort of our safety nets in order to reach people who might relate to our painful stories in their lost state, we heal.  We are rewarded with a deeper healing when we are real, honest, and bold.

In an amazing, supernatural way, writing about healing has taken me to a deeper level.  My soul has opened doors that I didn’t even know were locked.

When I was newly divorced, I thought healing was a choice.  I wasn’t ready.  I placed it on an imaginary shelf, thinking I could open it up and wear it when I was ready.

In my broken state, I started dating.  Unknowingly, dating delayed the healing.  It moved further and further back on that shelf.  I sunk deeper and deeper into the unhealthy me, the me that forgot what healing even was.  Instead of oxygen, I needed affirmation.  It was suffocating. It wreaked havoc on the people I loved the most.  I lived in survival mode, with a limited ability to prepare for anything beyond what the next day might bring.

I lived as a victim.  A victim of adultery.  A victim of divorce.  A victim of single motherhood.

The victim mentality allowed me to hide. I hid from reality, life, friends, family, and God.

This identity hindered me from truly living.  It fed on the pursuit of desolation.

Thankfully, I wasn’t destined to remain there. Slowly, steadily, lovingly, I was yanked out.

I emerged with an angst, a hunger to be healthy again.  Each day presented a new opportunity to learn.  Each new lesson became a renewed step. Each new step uncovered  a layer that couldn’t wait to be shed.

The false identities were exposed, destroyed, annihilated.  Never to be seen again.

The journey outward, toward healing, required a journey inward.

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