Even broken crayons still color!
When I think back to kindergarten, there were entire boxes full of broken crayons. They would snap, break when pressed down too hard. They would be left on the floor, stepped on, and broken in two, yet not broken enough to throw away. We would scoop them up at the end of the day and place them back in the boxes along with the intact ones. They would be used to color, just the same as if they were whole.
But they weren’t.
Trying
to color with broken crayons isn’t the same. They are often shorter
than the others, with weird jagged edges that make it hard to color in
small spaces. They flake and the wrapping paper has to be torn down the longer
you use them.I
can remember picking through the boxes to find the color of crayon that
I needed, pushing aside the broken ones.
Even as a child I realized no one wanted to
use the broken ones.
Trauma changes us, just like how a broken crayon doesn’t quite work the same way as an unbroken one, we are not the same person after we endure trauma. The person that we were before it happened is no longer there.
We were once whole and intact, like a crayon fresh from the box. But going through a trauma, any kind of trauma takes a toll on who we are as a person. It changes everything we know about others and ourselves. We are scare, scared of some trama happening again, scared that we can’t move past it. Remembering the trauma, reliving it, chips away at us. We become a shadow of who we once were, fractured and sometimes even broken.
Trauma does not define us, but it does affect who we are.
It seeps into the core of our being the way water seeps into the sand when the waves crash into the shore. It molds our insides and sometimes even our outsides.
We Are Not Less, Only Different
I don’t know what kind of woman I would have become if I hadn’t been forced to endure the traumas this life has handed me. Perhaps my anxiety wouldn’t turn my world upside down on occasion.
It’s ignorant to think that the negative events imposed on us don’t affect who we are as people today. Whether we want to admit it or not, what happens to us changes certain aspects of our lives.
I don’t want to say that I’m worse off then I would have been. Of course, I would have never wanted to face any of these difficult things that I have, but in a way, they have made me into a different person than I used to be. Just like the broken crayons, we are still who we are, we are just different now. Maybe our confidence is shaken and we are more guarded. But that only makes us different, not less. We are still people. We are still human.
We were once whole and intact, like a crayon fresh from the box. But going through a trauma, any kind of trauma takes a toll on who we are as a person. It changes everything we know about others and ourselves. We are scare, scared of some trama happening again, scared that we can’t move past it. Remembering the trauma, reliving it, chips away at us. We become a shadow of who we once were, fractured and sometimes even broken.
Trauma does not define us, but it does affect who we are.
It seeps into the core of our being the way water seeps into the sand when the waves crash into the shore. It molds our insides and sometimes even our outsides.
We Are Not Less, Only Different
I don’t know what kind of woman I would have become if I hadn’t been forced to endure the traumas this life has handed me. Perhaps my anxiety wouldn’t turn my world upside down on occasion.
It’s ignorant to think that the negative events imposed on us don’t affect who we are as people today. Whether we want to admit it or not, what happens to us changes certain aspects of our lives.
I don’t want to say that I’m worse off then I would have been. Of course, I would have never wanted to face any of these difficult things that I have, but in a way, they have made me into a different person than I used to be. Just like the broken crayons, we are still who we are, we are just different now. Maybe our confidence is shaken and we are more guarded. But that only makes us different, not less. We are still people. We are still human.
There is another quote that floats around the internet like the quote about broken crayons. It’s about an ancient Japanese art of fixing pottery with lacquer and gold called Kintsugi. The meaning is that what is broken can be repaired and it is a part of the object’s history. The Japanese don’t throw the bowl out, but instead repair it in a way that makes it more beautiful, seeing no reason to disguise that it was broken. Instead, the break is highlighted, with gorgeous metals that make it shine, embracing the imperfection.
I think of the art of Kintsugi as a part of the healing process. Like a bowl that is dropped and broken, we will never be exactly what we were before enduring trauma. The cracks are there, but they can be mended. Not only can they be mended but they can be made into something more beautiful than they were before.
We will never be exactly the same, but we do not have to let our trauma define who we are.
Finding a way to cope and heal, whether it be through therapy or journaling, reaching out to friends or turning inward and bettering ourselves, there are ways to heal. After Trauma, You Must Heal, not healing will hold you back.
medium.com
I think of the art of Kintsugi as a part of the healing process. Like a bowl that is dropped and broken, we will never be exactly what we were before enduring trauma. The cracks are there, but they can be mended. Not only can they be mended but they can be made into something more beautiful than they were before.
We will never be exactly the same, but we do not have to let our trauma define who we are.
Finding a way to cope and heal, whether it be through therapy or journaling, reaching out to friends or turning inward and bettering ourselves, there are ways to heal. After Trauma, You Must Heal, not healing will hold you back.
medium.com
