“Why then? Why so late in life?” I asked. Those were important questions for me because I was 51 years old before my memories broke through. In the midst of my pain I called out, “Why now?”
And then I laughed at my own question. No matter when I dealt with the pain, I probably would have said it was bad timing or not convenient.
But then, trauma never is convenient.
Instead, I examined my life and came up with my own answer: Because I was ready. That may sound strange because of the pain, and the tears didn’t stop for a long time. I hadn’t cried for myself since I was 11 years old because I learned not to feel pain when my father beat me. But the summer of my fifty-first year, the torture and agony broke through.
Even so, I was ready.
That is, as excruciating as it was, I was able to cope. It says to me that had the memories erupted earlier, I probably wasn’t emotionally strong enough.
I faced my pain because I could—finally.
If I’m feeling pain now,
it’s because I’m able to cope with it.
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