As I continue through this process of healing—both physically and emotionally—I sometimes feel like I’m getting it all wrong.
I hear that little girl inside me crying out to God:
Please tell me what to do.
I’ll do anything you tell me.
I want to be a good little girl.
I just want to feel loved.
I just want to feel safe.
And I don’t know how to get there.
I recognize that voice.
It’s the voice of a child who learned that being good might keep her safe.
That following the rules might keep her from getting in trouble.
That pleasing others might earn her the love she so desperately wanted.
And somehow, even now, that little girl is still looking outside herself for the instructions.
Tell me what to do, God.
Give me the rules.
Tell me how to heal.
Tell me how to get this right.
But maybe God isn’t asking me to get it right.
Maybe I don’t have to earn love.
Maybe I don’t have to perform for safety.
Maybe I don’t have to become the perfect good little girl.
Maybe what I’ve been searching for all these years was never something I could earn.
Maybe I was already loved.
And perhaps the healing now is learning to let that be enough.
