We all experience joy, sadness, anger, regret, fear. We’re all the same inside—just different expressions on the outside. And maybe what we’re all really craving isn’t perfection. It’s permission.

If you’ve experienced love that hurt—love that made you doubt yourself, lose yourself, or shrink to stay safe—that wasn’t love.
It might have been fear. It might have been control. It might have been survival dressed up as affection.

You’re not broken for being confused by it.
You’re not naive for hoping it could change.
And you’re not alone in trying to untangle the difference.

Healing means learning what real love feels like—safe, soft, reciprocal.
It means unlearning the lie that love is pain.

Worry is not a weakness—it’s a protective strategy many of us developed when the world didn’t feel safe. When the worst-case scenario did happen. But living in that mode long-term doesn’t actually keep the pain away. It just stretches it out over time and burns up our nervous system in the process.

Trauma is often either too much, too soon, too fast—or too little, too late. And it’s almost always compounded by a lack of adequate support afterward. So we try to manage the overwhelm, or fill the emptiness, the best way we know how—often through intensity, distraction, or avoidance.

The human brain is especially vulnerable to trauma in early childhood. The first seven years of life are when we learn whether the world is safe, how to give and receive love, and how to regulate our emotions. But children can’t regulate on their own; they depend on caregivers for co-regulation. Without it, the nervous system develops in a state of stress, making us more susceptible to emotional instability, physical illness, addiction, and a lack of identity.

Maybe it’s because we share a language that often goes unspoken, buried under the shame that trauma brings. No one wants to tell their friends that the cupboards were bare growing up, or that they had to clean up after parents who didn’t. No one talks about the violations that came from people who were supposed to protect them. Maybe you were the kid who got teased for being “different,” or the one who was constantly reminded they were an inconvenience. Maybe, despite swearing you never would, you ended up marrying someone just like your abuser. Maybe the child you poured everything into has now turned away from you, and instead of feeling appreciated, you feel rejected.

Remember, meditation isn’t about doing it perfectly. It’s a practice of showing up and being present with yourself—because you are worth the time and intention it takes.  If Jesus himself took the time to meditate on the regular-you cant go wrong. Science has proven the numerous benefits of a regular practice over and over again. It can literally add years to your life! 

Breathwork transformed my life. It gave me a way to process trauma without having to relive it or be retraumatized by talking about it. This is why I am so passionate about this practice.

If you’re curious about exploring breathwork for yourself, I encourage you to give it a try. It’s a powerful tool for healing, self-connection, clarity, and emotional freedom.

Every time we expand, even in fear, we claim new ground, change patterns, and disrupt cycles. Life invites us daily to grow, to step into faith, and to trust in a guiding force greater than ourselves. With each step, we increase our capacity for joy, love, and freedom.

So, ask yourself: What do you want more of? The same? Or something greater?