Tag: love
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The Things I Wish I Could Tell Little Me
You won’t believe me, but you survive. Not just the day-to-day battles, but the long war. The years of being invisible. The times you wished you could disappear entirely. You survive it all. And one day, you write it down. You speak it out loud. You turn it into something more than pain. You turn…
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The Things I Carry, Still
There are things I carry that no one can see. Not in the lines on my face or the curve of my spine—though they’ve left their marks there, too. Not in a diagnosis code or a medical chart, though my body has often tried to speak the truth before I had the language for it.…
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Three Last Names, One Me: Finding My Identity After Divorce(s) and Trauma
“I’m a free spirit who never had the balls to be free.”― Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail Names. They shape us, define us, and sometimes, they break us. I’ve carried three last names over the course of my life, each one representing a different chapter of who I was—or perhaps…
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I’m Done People-Pleasing: How Trauma Trained Me to Be Everything for Everyone But Myself
For as long as I can remember, I’ve tried to be what everyone else needed me to be. The easygoing friend, the accommodating daughter, the quiet, non-confrontational one who never asked for too much. It wasn’t conscious at first—it was survival. When your nervous system is hardwired by trauma, your body learns to scan for…
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When The Silence Is Deafening
I’ve been writing on the internet since the Yahoo Geocities days—back when personal blogs were clunky, glittery, and filled with badly formatted text. I’ve poured my heart onto metaphorical paper for as long as I can remember, leaving pieces of myself in the digital ether, hoping my words might land somewhere, with someone. And yet,…
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Daring to Dream Again: Finding Hope After Trauma
For a long time, I didn’t let myself dream. Survival was the only goal. Dreaming still feels dangerous—like setting myself up for disappointment or failure. When you’ve spent years just trying to make it through the day, the idea of planning for a future, of imagining a life beyond the next crisis, feels foreign. Maybe…
Jessica Woodville | Memoir & Musings 