My heart had to break to open,
At a young age, maybe in my mid-twenties, I had a little voice telling me I needed to write a book about my heartbreaking childhood. Over the years, I made many excuses for not embarking on a book-writing journey. My lack of intention to write for many years haunts me. My personal life was fraught with failed relationships, lost love, being a stepmother, and searching for personal growth. I let life get in the way of telling my story. My self-esteem had hit rock bottom. My self-sabotaging behaviors continued for decades; I gained massive amounts of weight and sometimes drank too much, and I had no belief in my ability to write and tell my story. My life was a continued sad story with no comprehension that my strength was in the hurt I endured. Even though my third husband loved me unconditionally, I ignored what happened to me and did not know the trauma had been pushed into the deep recesses of my subconscious brain. It was many years later I learned the negative impact of childhood trauma on the brain. My life of self-sabotage would have never changed if I had not sought healing resources to understand what happened to my brain.
