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After Survival, Then What?

After two weeks of 

unpacking the last session,
my soul was relieved to meet 

my therapist’s couch again this morning.


Crying has never come naturally for me,
but exhaustion softened 

every wall I built to survive,
and for once,
I let the tears fall 

without apologizing for them.


I think I cried holy tears —
for the little girl
who learned to endure 

before she learned to rest,


for the unseen woman
who carried worlds on her back
while silently breaking underneath them,


and for the “silent partner”
who poured love from empty wells
until abandonment,
disappointment,
and depletion
became familiar companions.


When my therapist asked 

about my prayer life,
I mistook the question for judgment.


So I offered polished prayers —
careful words,
safe words,
the kind that sound faithful
without requiring vulnerability.


But she challenged me
to pray differently.


Not just for strength, 

endurance, and resiliency 
but for protection as well.


Because healing at the root
is spiritual work.


Unlearning survival.
Uprooting pain.


Releasing grief stored in the body,
the mind,
and the soul
is not shallow water work.


It is descending into deep waters
where certainty cannot follow.


And somewhere in that deep,
God begins revealing
who you are
beneath the coping,
beneath the performance,
beneath the survival mode.


Choosing joy sounds beautiful
until you realize
joy requires raw honesty.


It unlocks.
It unsettles.
It strips.
Then it rebuilds.


Self-awareness is sacred,
but transformation asks hard questions.


Questions like:
“After survival,
then what?”


Who am I
when I no longer have 

to fight for my worth?


Who do I become
when peace feels unfamiliar?


What does living look like
when I stop confusing suffering with love?


Answering those questions 

feels like learning to ride a bike 

for the first time without guidance 


Unsteady.
Terrifying.
Sacred.


I may fall.
I may slip.
I may carry bruises from becoming.


But this time,
I refuse to abandon myself.


I survived yesterday—

 but today,
I am learning how to thrive!


One step at a time

in forward motion.



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