the hardest work you will ever do is work on yourself.

there are ruptures in our souls that do not mend automatically; they require care.

this care involves soul searching, plumbing the depths and asking questions that have no simple answers.

There is a time to break down, and a time to build up;

this is never more costly than in the context of our own hearts.

all of this came sharply into focus as i stood before an individual and listened silently as they sobbed, “I have PTSD from my own childhood.” i couldn’t make it make sense. because i was the one with the knife in my back and it was their hands that were indicted by my blood.

you repeat what you don’t repair.

what a scary moment to realize that the monster under your bed became the person in the mirror.