Wounded Warriors⎈

“When we honor both our darkness, and our light, it puts a sort of shield around us. You are still soft as petals sisters, even when you embrace your fiercest warrior self.” - Sarah

“When we honor both our darkness, and our light, it puts a sort of shield around us. You are still soft as petals sisters, even when you embrace your fiercest warrior self.” - Sarah

by Sarah K. Grundy

“Give me a wounded warrior and I’m falling all over the floor,“ said my past self.

There’s been this conversation with myself lately. It starts like this, “Sarah, be fair to yourself, you held this man, and this man only, close to your heart for 7 years of your life.”

The road to forgiving myself feels heavy at times, and other times, like I’m a true warrior on a chariot with my sword full of flames as I burn the hope I had for this mystical bond. Hope lost stings hotter than the loss of the person. We’re all craving to see more humanity and when that dies in your most intimate connections, it’s painful.

The signs were always there - a fakeness, he would be more than willing to perpetuate - a woundedness he would steal to heal and the lack of ability to be vulnerable. But, we love. That’s just what we do, we love and they know. I wanted him to heal as much as I wanted me to heal. He knew that and used it as a gateway to take what was mine to give.

“Give me a wounded warrior and I’m falling all over the floor,“ said my past self.

I could go quietly and watch idly by as other women are violated in this same way. I could go quietly and not speak of what I know, as to not ruffle my soft petals with sharp blades.

I could go quietly.

I could lie to myself and say, I didn’t want him to prove to me he was different. “Show me that not every single last island man on the planet is like this - lies, cheats, steals from the divine, spreading it all over town, with no remorse on the horizon. Show me you are different than those other vampires.”

I could lie.

I could make excuses, or be afraid to call out that part for fear of sounding crazy. I could say, I did not defend him to myself, to close friends and family. I could say, I had lessons to learn, or some sort of left over wounds to heal, or maybe a soul journey to travel with this man.

I could make excuses.

But, the truth in my heart says, he worked very hard to win me over for his ego, for his jar of hearts, and he did. He entered as an impostor does, with lies.

The truth will set your heart free.

I could make myself feel better and say, “I was writing a book and so I wasn’t paying attention - maybe it was the drama feeding the romantic thriller that I liked. He had cancer, I was battling my health and my daughters, he would not put me, her, or himself at risk that way. I was island hopping, soul searching, focusing on myself, healing, raising twins, he’s healing his soul, he’s in training for his cycling…”

I could make myself feel better.

I could lie too.

Lying is not a special quality, like telling the truth is, but when the sun sets, and darkness shines its light on the moon, it’s just me with me to face. My vision has to get brighter. My eyes wider. My everything higher - even amidst a deeply transformative healing phase, when things just move a little slower.

Elevate. Never. To. Be. Lowered. Again.

“Do not give me a wounded warrior who will steal my might to heal his battle cries. I’m not here to fall all over the floor,“ says my present self.

**disclosure: I’m a romantic, a fiction writer and a deeply feeling dramatic, writing from the heart, but Broken is not Bad. Meanwhile neither is Truth and being broken does not give anyone a pass to violate others. No matter what the truth looks like - it gives us all wings and sets our hearts free. We are all Wounded and Healing together. Not everyone will take advantage of that love and that process, but more than we may think will try.

Love one another.

Listen to your heart, but also that beating instinct deep within.

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