The initial cracks did not emerge as suddenly as lightning. They arrived softly, minute adjustments transforming the world into one unknown. She was still the same girl, but the world and her inner world were changing. Her loud laugh didn’t come as fast one day, and the games didn’t feel as enjoyable. She began to feel the weight of unspoken expectations. She was advised to sit “like a lady,” to stop climbing trees, and to assist further in the kitchen when her brothers were allowed to wander. Once so full of possibilities, the world began to whisper guidelines in her ear: how she should behave, what was “appropriate,” who she was developing into.
There were things nobody explained, only anticipated. Her body had transformed, and with it came looks she didn’t understand and alerts that left her feeling simultaneously embarrassed and confused. She soon realized that developing also had its grief. Not just the kind that comes from puppy love or friendship disputes—though those came too—but the kind that makes you second-guess yourself. She trusts her friend turned chilly when her voice was stilled in a room since it wasn’t “her place. ” When she began to shrink herself to prevent being too loud, too daring, too obvious. The girl who had formerly believed she could become anything felt the planet pulling at her edges, attempting to mold her into something smaller and more acceptable. The first heartbreak was not a boy; it was the understanding that life would not always provide room for her light. In those fissures, something else started to develop, however.
She began to view things from fresh angles. She saw how her mother moved with quiet power, how her aunts carried unspoken wisdom in their eyes, and how the women around her had suffered so much yet still kept moving. She began to see that being a woman in this world was complex, beautiful, and painful, gentle and firm, all at once. And despite those first fissures that wounded her, they did not break her. They unveiled truths she had to acquire. She began feeling, thinking, and writing more. Still there, the surprise was now combined with a different sort of knowledge. She was changing, and the world surrounding her was urging her to face who she would become. Once, she had dreamed freely, the girl stood poised to change into something new—not yet a woman, no longer a child, but already bearing memories in her bones. She was discovering that life could be both benevolent and harsh and that survival sometimes involved choosing to remain soft even when the world attempted to stiffen her. And even if the cracks were painful, they were the start of her strength.
Post Disclaimer
Utilizing my own personal experiences as well as my background as a Registered Nurse, I share my enthusiasm for travel and health on this blog. Though I love what I do and sometimes talk about tactics for modest health improvement, keep in mind that the material provided might not be exact. The material herein is just for self-improvement. The content shared draws on my own experiences, thoughts, and stories. With this in mind, readers should consult their healthcare providers about any concerns they may experience.
Since each person has a different health path, what helps one person may not help another. Readers should consult their personal healthcare providers for personalized guidance based on their individual needs and circumstances. Rather than replacing the professional, my goal here is to inspire, enlighten, and start conversations that improve and make life more fulfilling relations between you and your medical staff.