There is one thing that I will never be able to answer, and that is, who was my pre-trauma self? I can’t answer because I don’t have one.

I’ve written before about how my abuse started when I was only 5 years old, and at such a young age, how my personality hadn’t even had a chance to develop properly.

All I have ever known is my trauma self. The person I have lived my life being. The reality for me is that there’s no “who I used to be” to go back to. That person never existed. So, I find myself at the age I am now. discovering myself for the first time.

I am pretty much now on a road of self-discovery, where I’ve ripped all the Band-Aids off. Peeled back countless layers, and what’s left is a bunch of symptoms that have been stacked on top of each other, all the while trying to balance and act like a grown-up.

Somewhere though, there is a person who is about to be discovered. Discovering what he likes is the first step. To understand his needs and his capabilities will follow. That person is me, whom I hope to meet soon.

It’s a nice feeling to know that I am not permanently broken at the core, nor am I irreparable. That the self uncomplicates things and substitutes anxiety with excitement, boundaries become more natural, and making decisions a lot easier.

Processing my trauma was the beginning.

There are so many glimmers in my purview that it’s making me more motivated to delve in and discover the person I am without the trauma armor. I now know that vulnerability is a strength and not a weakness and I’ve been listening to my emotions more instead of dissociating.

It’s not been easy, and to get to this point I have had to process all my trauma. That trauma and my diagnosis of cPTSD had me believing a host of things about myself, the world around me, and my position in and impact on it.

Processing my trauma helped; in doing so, it has shown me that these beliefs I had were false, either direct results of manipulation from my abuser or things I’d come to believe as a way of making sense of the insanity that was the first 40 odd years of my life.

I am at the point where I now know who I’m not, but have absolutely no idea who I am. Hiding who I was for so long out of shame that I am now building myself from scratch. All I know is I am not the person I needed to be to survive anymore. My personality has been my coping mechanism and then my diagnosis. The way I perceived myself, others, and the world around me was all the result of my child abuse. And that doesn’t make me who I am. It made me perceive a version that wasn’t me at all.

There is excitement in something new

I feel as if I am evolving. Coming out of a cocoon and morphing into a more confident, curious, and calm self. He seems fun. More at peace. I think I like him. It even might sound silly, but I feel I have grown from a 5-year-old into a 52-year-old teenager that is chomping at the bit to be an adult in the past year.

I am mostly trying to focus on the good things and let go of the bad things. It’s certainly been interesting figuring out what I really like as an adult. That it’s not about rediscovering, but in fact discovering for the first time.

The hardest part for me right now is shutting down the inner voice that puts me down, because I grew up with that voice so it’s very automatic. It often feels like a constant battle, one that I have to consciously fight against every single day. Learning to replace those negative thoughts with more positive affirmations is a definite journey on it’s own.

I am now valuing myself enough to begin listening to my preferences more though, and I am doing my best to not view it as what was me and what was my trauma anymore. Instead I am taking every new day and looking for opportunities to explore what my passions and interests are and experience new things.

When I started this healing journey I never in a million years thought I would be where I find myself now. I have neglected myself for far too long, and even though there is some fear and anxiety that comes with this self-discovery, it’s giving me something to feel excited about. It’s time for me to be me. Whatever that means. Whatever I decide.