Most of their advice came from their own experiences. Not only did I understand the agony they’d endured, I appreciated their willingness to share their pain and healing with me.
What they didn’t grasp was that I wasn’t like them—and no one else is either. We were both abused as children, but obviously no two people suffer in the same way. As obvious as that may be, too many of them had become the right-way-to-heal people.
“Talk about it. Tell anyone who’ll listen. The more you speak about it, the easier it gets.”
“Be extremely selective about whom you tell.”
“You need a therapist. They’re the only ones who can help you.”
“Don’t go to a professional. Find a friend or a small group—individuals who have recovered from abuse. They’re the only ones who can help.”
Yet they all knew.
I didn’t need a lot of advice; I did need a lot of compassion.
No one can tell us how to heal;
it’s something each of us must figure out.