Frankie on Healing
Everything I do at Zenly is about creating space for people to feel, process, and emerge closer to worthiness.
‘Zenly makes me feel like I’m a part of a community’, ‘this place makes me feel so safe, I can advocate for my needs here’, ‘thank you so much for creating this, it’s so necessary’. I’m encouraged daily to let my processed hurt rest in a little corner of my mind, content in that it has and continues to fulfil its potential. These records feel so small now because of how big I’ve grown around them. I know that what I’ve experienced adds a depth to who I am that is like a connective tissue binding me to those who need those skills too. It gives me language to address suffering, offer pathways out, and send provisional comforts.
Recalling what life was like sometimes shocks me. It is so far from what I now create and accept. And I know that you can see in my face how much I’ve lived -the echo of a wide-eyed girl trying to survive. Sometimes I catch her in the mirror, and it makes me question if I’ve done enough, if I’m being lazy with my skills and skating through life on a different kind of autopilot. Maybe that’s just a fear of the known, a reminder of my desire to not repeat the past. Maybe I’m just tired. Skeptical. Feeling unworthy.
I’ve learned there is no end to healing. That there is no getting ‘there’ because ‘there’ doesn’t exist. ‘There’ is only this day and how you’re experiencing and responding to what is within and around you. I accept that early corruption alters your chemistry, but do I accept that there are elements of my building blocks that are irrevocably damaged? It’s time to explore the boundaries of this belief and see how far I can push it.
Now is the time, guided by the stability of this new life, to fully let that old shell dissolve and believe I’ve done enough. I’m already more functional and integrated. My body is resilient and has let go of so much already. What’s left is to interpret it all fully, through words and body, into something that makes sense to others who also feel that perhaps they are intrinsically not good enough. Otherwise, how will I ever feel truly, peacefully, purposefully understood, and that it was all actually worth it?
