I spent the last year dealing with the heavy burden of working through my trauma and in that process, I lost me. I lost the person I've always been.
I thought that in order to get over my bullshit, I had to be a better person.
Trauma fucked with my brain and I thought that because I felt like damaged goods, that I WAS damaged goods. That somehow all the bad shit I was processing somehow negated all the good I have inside of me and that I've done. I've always been a good person. I've always been the one to help someone no matter what. I've always been the one people turn to when they needed a little tough love. I've always been the one to give you the shirt off my back.
Being “damaged goods” just means I have a story to tell. It's what makes me have a heart and the ability to be compassionate to other people because I KNOW how much it sucks to feel like you’re a peice of shit. It’s what makes me a good person.
So, in realizing that, I found my voice. But the thing is...I never really lost it.
My voice is the same as it's always been, just a little less asshole and a little more Pollyanna—but just a bit.
I'm still lean toward asshole, let's be real.