This afternoon, I got an invitation to come over for tea.
I doubted to say yes.
I had been feeling connected to the dark sides of myself for a few days, being tired, just had a session with my therapist and an acupuncture session. I thought I wouldn’t be the best company and craved me-time again. And after all, we didn’t know each other that well.
Picture of tea-time when the weather wasn't adding onto the blue feelings. (Do not use without consent)
But something pulled my bike in the ice-cold weather to her house. Quite immediately we both started sharing vulnerably. About our mental health that’s challenging during times, the trauma we both experienced, the path of healing that’s full of frauds, and how very often we aren’t feeling totally seen or heard in our experiences with closed-ones. How that’s feeling us often left lonely, misunderstood, victim-blamed, and goddamn angry!
We held space for each other’s story. We didn’t minimize our hurt, for the fear of being judged. We saw the pain of the other as a mirror of our own.
And when I ask the Universe, why all the shit that happened in my life happened… What’s the purpose of it? Then I believe this is part of it.
Being open about our wounds, sharing vulnerably with others, shouldn't be a burden but a strength.
So, I can see other women and humans, who have suffered similarly in a way so deeply and accurately, that they don’t feel alone with their pain. More than with someone who can’t imagine how these wounds feel.
And within that ‘seeing’ there lays healing for both of us. And for our communities. And for humanity.
It was a good tea. xx Minne