Damaged.

Sometimes, life breaks us down and we end up getting hurt more than we’d like. We experience these things, and we label it as heartbreak because, well, we like to label things. I’ve been in places before where I told myself that I had broken my own heart, because that’s what I felt. It took me a while to figure out that my own feelings could sometimes be so toxic. Perhaps it’s the way we speak to ourselves, or maybe it’s the small cringe we make when meeting our eyes in a mirror… those small reactions can be very, very toxic. 

There was a point in my life where I decided to avoid mirrors as much as possible, and I’ll admit, this gave me momentary happiness. But isn’t it awful that I felt the need to avoid my own presence? I hate that this was my ‘quick fix’, and to be honest, just talking about it makes me uncomfortable. However, I think it can be an important thing to talk about.

Lately, I’ve been going back and reading my journals from that time in my life, and my heart aches at her sadness. I considered myself to be damaged, for several reasons. Truthfully, I had come to terms with that label, after all it was finally something I could categorize myself under.

 One thing I will say, my quality of writing in that time was probably some of my best work. It’s wild how inspiring emotions can be. 

Anyway, for a long time I’ve just stuck with that word, damaged, even after I had eased up on myself. It merely made sense, at least in my head. However, one day I casually referred to myself as such when talking to a friend. I’ll never forget what their reply was, because I had never seen myself in this way before.

They said, “You’ve just been through experiences that have shaped your thinking a bit more. But by no means does that make you damaged.”

It was a simple, and genuine answer to something that I had managed to overthink constantly. As I said before, I will never forget that, because it has reminded me that I can breathe. 

Gradually I’ve worked on myself, and have made a true effort to be good to this human that I am. But sometimes, no matter how hard we’ve been working to improve, those toxic feelings can creep back up. Something as small as a label you created yourself, can keep your head stuck in the past. Little did I know, it only took a few words to open my eyes. 

I’ve learned that moments do not define me. If I’m sad for a bit, that doesn’t make me a sad human. When I’m happy, I don’t think that defines me as a happy human. A moment is simply a moment. We feel things, we adapt, and that’s okay.