Tender

A lifetime of survival mode, reignited.

Fight or flight lingers,
Long after the threat is gone.

I wonder when I will sleep through the night again.
I wonder when I won’t wake up with my heart racing.

As safe as it is,
In my own house,
With certainty I cannot be contained or criticized,
My body still bears the weight.

I was trained into smallness,
So I repeat that.

I slept in the guest room of my own home
For the first two weeks.

My mind knows.
My blood and my hormones and my spirit
Will take the time they take.

All I can do,
As I wait for them to settle,
Is rest, and
Remind them why they react that way,
Gently
(I wouldn’t want them to feel gaslit again).

Nobody is crazy here.

We were hurt.

We are healing.