This morning in my therapy session I remembered a moment after my most intense trauma when I sat on the bed crying, a age 7, while one cousin held my hand, another cousin rubbed my back, and I spoke with my mother on the phone.
My body’s panic released under their touch: the very moment I could feel one hand holding mine tight, the other loosening up my stiff back, and my mother’s reassuring voice. These precise, somatic sensations made me feel that although I was in pain, I was not alone.
This memory is new. It just came to me today. I had removed it along with many others around the events of the trauma. This memory made me realize that there is something very profound about how we experience community in our bodies.
Until today, I told a story surviving my trauma alone. Feeling body sensations connected to my memory shifted my survivor story forever: I was never alone. I survived embraced by love. These three women of different ages represented different members of community: the youngest cousin, nearly my own age, my peer. My older cousin like a big sister. I didn’t survive alone. I survived, because I was embraced immediately after the pain and I am so grateful to God for that experience. I am so grateful to God for the holding and even more grateful, even more grateful I got to re-experience it today.
When I thought about remembering my trauma I used to have so much fear of remembering the pain. I didn’t realize that along with the pain would come most precious memories of love, family, and connection.