Unbecoming Her

EMDR has been making me realize something uncomfortable lately.

I’ve always thought I was strong because I could smile through almost anything.

Hospital rooms.
Bad news.
Goodbyes.
Watching people I love slowly slip away.

I could still laugh.
Still comfort other people.
Still look “okay.”

But I’m starting to wonder if that was ever strength at all.

I think I just became really good at performing okayness.

Really good at faking normal.
Faking joy.
Faking peace.

Not because I was trying to be fake…

But because somewhere along the way, my nervous system learned that falling apart wasn’t an option.

So I adapted.

I smiled.
I joked.
I stayed composed.

Even when something inside me was grieving, terrified, overwhelmed, or hurting.

And the scary part is… I got so good at it that even I believed it.

Until EMDR started peeling things back and showing me how much of my life has been spent surviving instead of actually feeling safe enough to just…be.