maybe your mind doesn’t remember but your body does.
maybe it hits you when you look at your dreams.
or when particular songs and tv shows and stories and current events bring tears that tear through you.
it’s enough that your body knows.
it’s enough that an awful thing feels resonant, even if you don’t tangibly remember it happening to you. can’t say how it happened to you, exactly, just that it did.
a body that remembers and a mind that won’t let you is such a frustrating thing. it can feel a little like being in court and being asked for evidence and you only have yourself to point to and you’re worried your feelings and felt sense and the slippery bits and pieces that suckerpunch you to sobbing in therapist’s offices will be discounted. worried you won’t be believed. and maybe you won’t. people don’t want to believe a bad thing has happened to you, and the brain really likes proof.
but i’m here to say that your body knows. your brain might not because it has been protecting you, but your body does. and that’s enough. it won’t feel like it sometimes, not by a long shot. and you might clamor for a more linear or tidy narrative, but here you are with the one you’ve got and you’re not alone in it, it’s just that so many of us are quiet.
you’re not alone here, you and your body that remembers. there are many of us in this club we never wanted to join, can’t tell anyone we’re in.
your body knows, your body remembers, your body cries out —
and that is enough.