I’m sorry.

I kept trying to help you heal over the years but my efforts have fallen short. Either I didn’t persist for long enough, or I didn’t do the simple things that would mean the most.

Movement, water, rest, nourishment. Support.

have tried, though. I have done the best that I could do. I kept trying to show up for you.

That’s what I’m doing, right now. This time with carrot-orange juice, gentle walks, calling in sick to work (day two now, with dwindling sick time that I was going to use for post-top surgery; it’s okay though, it will be okay), nutrient-dense foods. Time with my love. Letting myself be taken care of.

I know you’ve felt it over the years – trauma and dysphoria – settled in deep, emerging as stomach aches and headaches, anxiety, lack of motivation, allergies, eczema, frequent colds and sinus infections. I know you’re scared. I know you think that something bigger, something unbearable could happen.

But I need you to know

that I’m here now.

Walk through the forest with me. Breathe in the cedar and arbutus and usnea. Let these waters heal you. Make peace with the parts of you that rage and attack yourself, inflame and congest. Let go of what holds you in that sick space. Be gentle.

Breathe. Move. Rest. Nourish.



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