Letting Our Wounds Speak for Us

Letting Our Wounds Speak for Us
By: Ryan D. Daniels

Last night I ended up my couch crying and in my feelings. I was in the midst of a text conversation that was going left...real fast. I didn’t know what had set me off but I told this guy that my expectations for us were low and whatever we had going on wouldn’t amount to much of anything. He didn’t say much but he didn’t try to argue against my point.

         I was upset so I sent the screenshots to a friend with much sounder judgment than my own. She responded and she dragged me, she asked me why was I pushing him away and why was I asking in such a self-sabotaging manner. I sat there and thought about it and went back through the text conversation I had turned an ant hill into Mt. Everest which an hour’s time span. And what makes the situation that much sadder was I had no idea why I had lashed out at him other than the fact he wasn’t saying what I wanted or felt I needed to hear at that moment.

         I like this guy and I know I like him the most I have liked someone in years. When I first realized I liked him I cut him off because I knew he would let me down, I knew he wouldn’t like me, I knew he wasn’t attracted to me. Did he say any of these things? Did his actions indicate anything that would validate my thoughts? No and no. But yet there I was cutting all contact and at my core, I had no idea why.

         I believe in signs and signals and going into that day I had received three signals telling me the same message; a tarot card reading, a text from the guy in question, and lastly, the conversation with my friend. I make things difficult for myself. After the maelstrom of a conversation with dude and the conversation with my friend, I took a moment to consider how I got to this point. And I realized I was not speaking for myself I was allowing my wounds to speak for me and I had allowed my pain to become my identity.

         If you read my blog I have not been very lucky at love for a variety of reasons. Dealing with manipulative men, dealing with dishonest men, dealing with verbally abusive men, dealing with unfaithful men, or dealing with men who just didn’t have my best interest at heart for one reason or another. I have internalized every single disappointment, every single heartbreak and every single failed relationship has become a part of my identity.

         A lot of the time we don’t realize our shortcomings or our faults until someone calls us out on it I call it the “stank breath” moment. Because the same way you might not know your breath is a little tart until someone tells you is the same way you make not realize how you’re failing yourself and others until someone else tells you.

         Until that conversation with my friend last night I hadn’t really how self-defeating I had been in my conversation with him. My words were hurtful and if he had said them to me I would’ve been pissed beyond belief. But yet I was saying them to him not even realizing how malicious and vindictive I was coming off in that moment. But I realized it wasn’t my true heart speaking it was my wound speaking, that festering wound. My heart wants to give us a chance to maybe become something but my wound says don’t even try beat him to saying what you feel like he is going to say. My wound told me that he didn’t want nor did he like me. Even though his actions speak to something else. My wound is full of bitterness, disappointment, and negativity that manifests in self-sabotaging ways in the weakest areas of my life and in the areas I feel the least control.

         I’m saying all of that to say all of this. We have all been hurt, we have all been disappointed in one way or another, and we have all had our unfair share of heartbreaks. However, did we really heal from them? Because here I was thinking I was this fully healed, fully self-aware woman who was ready to have a healthy and loving relationship but yet here I was still engaging in my toxic, self-defeating, and self-sabotaging ways and I’m hurting someone who didn’t deserve it. And for what? I have no idea maybe so he would finally say fuck it agree with me and fulfill my self-fulfilling prophecy.

         A lot of the times I think we do not truly take the time that is necessary for us to heal because it’s messy, it involves self-reflection (and accountability), it involves facing truths, it involves taking off the rose-colored glasses, it involves unpacking hurtful memories, and it involves a lot of work. So we hold it in, not even realizing it manifesting in our words, in our actions, or in the decisions we are making. I went back through the messages between me and dude this morning and I realized what I really wanted to say but instead of saying what I meant and saving myself the drama I took the conversation off a cliff because my wound tells me I don’t deserve nice things, I don’t deserve the room to be vulnerable, and I don’t deserve a chance at happiness.

         After this conversation, I realized I still have a long way to go before my wound is healed but realizing there is one there in the first place is a meaningful and necessary first step. Our emotional wounds are internal and unlike a cut on arm or a scar on a knee they cannot be see on our flesh but heard in our words and felt through our actions. The things that we do not take time to uncover are the things that will not heal they will only fester causing more damage. And our wounds are sneaky and covert a lot of the times we don’t noticed them until someone else notices them and brings them to the forefront and lays our shit bare. However, my friend used the right approach she didn’t attack me, she didn’t judge me but most importantly she didn’t uphold me in my self-sabotage. She told me a corrective and loving manner that I needed to get my shit together for my sake and the sake of anyone who crosses my path. I’m thankful for my “stank breath” moment.

         Pain is a necessary part of life but our pain should never become our full identity, it should never be what we lead with. Our wounds are necessary as well but our wounds should be healed and only become places of lessons and not the place that consumes us. Our pain and wounds shouldn’t define our actions, our wounds shouldn’t manifest in our words nor should they derail us. Take the time to heal.


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