Wound
Some souls are so beautiful because they are brave. They see the pain carried by their parents, they understand where the decay began and how it spread - still, they do their best not to let it rot them from within. https://x.com/buridansridge/status/1970110760144760861
- There are those who have been hurt by their parents, yet still love them, not because their parents were perfect but because they choose to love what is imperfect and to honour the origin point of a part of themselves. Yet many carry immense guilt even in admitting their parents failed them. Their compassion is so great that they hold themselves back from facing the full weight of the truth they deserve, always one step removed, always at arm's length, unable to let it land because of that guilt. But the body remembers.
- The truth is, both can be true. You can despise the decay and pain that has been unleashed upon you without guilt and honour your own suffering, your own journey - at the same time, you can acknowledge how your parents came to be as they are, through the weight of their own unhealed and unresolved pain.
- Similarly, those who feel immense resentment and hate towards their parents often find, in the quiet moments before they fall asleep, that a part of them still longs to connect - a subtle whisper of desire always remains, because they carry hope. Hate is just corroded love, it is not indifference. It is love unresolved and suspended, pooled like still water. The most heartbreaking part is that they feel disgust, sometimes even hatred, towards themselves for wanting this. Yet no matter how much they rationalise, a part of them will always long for it. And it is okay to want this. It does not make them weak or pathetic. The polarity must be felt in full, and then accepted in its entirety, on both ends.
- The greatest wars are not fought between angels and demons, but in the hearts of those who carry the deepest wounds.