Thank You For Holding Space With Me

TW/Content Note: This series discusses experiences with self-injury, shame, and healing. Please take care while reading and step away if you need to. If these topics are difficult for you, consider reading when you feel supported.

Four weeks ago, I took a step I wasn’t sure I would ever be ready for.

I chose to share something I had carried silently for years.

Pressing “publish” on the first post in my series Breaking the Silence: Owning My Story was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever done. Even after writing every word, there was still a part of me that wanted to keep it tucked away - hidden somewhere safer, quieter, unseen.

But there was another part of me… a quieter, steadier voice… that knew I was as ready as I was ever going to be.

I felt exposed - like I was standing completely unguarded, with nowhere to hide. Sharing my journey with self-harm and recovery is the most vulnerable thing I have ever done. And yet, breaking that silence… loosening the grip of the shame I’ve carried for so many years… has been more healing than I ever imagined.

Thank you for meeting me there with such gentleness.

Thank you for catching me softly. For the kindness, the understanding, the love.

Thank you for taking the time to read my words and for allowing me to show up more fully, more honestly, in this space. Thank you for reminding me - through your messages, your comments, your quiet support - that my story isn’t too heavy to be held.

It means more than I can fully put into words.

My therapist has told me for years that shame loses its power when we bring it into the light. I understood that in my head… but somewhere deeper, I wasn’t sure I believed it. I couldn’t picture a version of my life where the shame didn’t feel suffocating.

And while sharing this series didn’t magically erase the fear, or the uncertainty, or the shame… it shifted something.

It reminded me that vulnerability creates connection in ways silence never could.

I’ve always known how important it is to share stories like mine. I remember what it felt like to be the one searching - late at night, quietly hoping to find someone, anyone, who understood… someone who could make me feel a little less alone.

If these words can do that for even one person… if someone reads this and feels even a small sense of “me too”…

then every moment of fear before hitting “publish” was worth it.

Four weeks ago, I chose to begin sharing this part of my story.

Today, I’m proud that I did.

Thank you for being here 💕

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