PUENTE DE VUELTA A UNA MISMA

PUENTE DE VUELTA A UA MISMA

By Jena Gonzales

Bridges don’t diminish an obstacle, nor do they make it cease to exist; they merely provide safe passage over It.

For years, I viewed my trauma as something I needed to rid myself of. I attempted to bury it, but still it remains.

I couldn’t close the way underneath. It felt as if my pain was all I could be.

I could not band-aid over my wounds, but I could find a way to walk across them.

I built a bridge, one of the embodiments of pain endured, and it was mine and mine alone to mend.

I built a bridge of self-compassion where I held my inner child with acceptance, the way my parents never did.

I build a bridge to get to the other side of my pain. I built a bridge so I would not have to remain the same.

The construction took time, blood, sweat, and tears. It frustrated me because it wasn’t built-in seconds but years.

My body in anguish and my heart with ache, I placed brick after brick hoping that I’d find my way across all the guilt and the shame.

Now, I do not feel so hopeless nor stuck in my sadness. I see my ability to affect those around me.

When I built my bridge, I gave passage to not just myself but those who surround me.

Build your bridge because even though what is done is done, there is still so much left to become.