It’s strange how memory works, how the details of pain stay lodged in our minds with an almost photographic precision, while so many other things, the “important” things, fade. The house number, the pets’ names — gone. But the mother’s voice, the boy’s name, the heat on your skin that day? Forever etched.
It’s almost like trauma isn’t about what happens to us but what it ‘makes of’ us. Whether or not we allow it to define us is another story. And yet, the irony is that the very act of resisting definition means we’re still shaped by it. A paradox. An Eastern one, as you put it.
And then there’s that question. But who are you? How many of us answer it with a list of roles, responsibilities, and obligations? I think we all do, at some point. Maybe because admitting we don’t actually know feels like an unbearable weight — one heavier than just playing the part we think we’re supposed to.
But your words tell me you’ve already started peeling back the layers, and I wonder: does it ever really stop? Or is the self just an infinite series of masks, each one removed only to reveal another beneath it? Maybe the truth isn’t in the peeling but in learning to sit with the uncertainty of what lies underneath. Maybe it’s not about finding an answer at all.
You’ve so understood me, it’s refreshing and it makes me feel seen. Thank you Tamara. As humans, I think we far too often fight for some sort of agency or “freedom” which inherently is a paradox to our nurture-based development. We are creatures of habit, of trial and error. True freedom is empathising with your experience, relinquishing your victim status, and choosing to be better. This doesn’t apply to all cases of course, God forbid there are victims of genocide and torture, domestic and substance abuse. The world is abundant in suffering, but perhaps a lot of us have made a familiar home from our supposed “inability” to be any other way. We so can, if we want it badly enough.
Your words pulse with the raw, paradoxical truth of what it means to be human — both bound and boundless, shaped by forces beyond us yet capable of transcending them. I love how you frame true freedom not as a rebellion against our nature but as an embrace of it, a conscious act of stepping out of well-worn narratives we mistake for inevitabilities. There’s a deep wisdom in recognising that while suffering is real, so too is the power of choice — when we are willing, when we are ready! Not all cages are locked, some are just familiar…. sadly.
I’ve come to realize why I like people who are blunt and honest. It’s because it makes me feel safe. I don’t have to peel through the layers of what are they hiding? Who are they really? I enjoyed reading your post; it made me feel safe through your honesty of sharing your story in your life.
“I secretly saw trauma as a blanket statement people generously used to liberate themselves from responsibility. I still partly think that way. Can you blame me?” This is my favorite part. Love the honesty here. Thank you for sharing!!!!!
Beautifully said, thank you, Luciana. It is just us peeling eternal layers day in and day out, adopting new layers in between. I think you're right, in that acceptance has been my greatest strength in navigating this reality. Life is beautiful. <3
It’s strange how memory works, how the details of pain stay lodged in our minds with an almost photographic precision, while so many other things, the “important” things, fade. The house number, the pets’ names — gone. But the mother’s voice, the boy’s name, the heat on your skin that day? Forever etched.
It’s almost like trauma isn’t about what happens to us but what it ‘makes of’ us. Whether or not we allow it to define us is another story. And yet, the irony is that the very act of resisting definition means we’re still shaped by it. A paradox. An Eastern one, as you put it.
And then there’s that question. But who are you? How many of us answer it with a list of roles, responsibilities, and obligations? I think we all do, at some point. Maybe because admitting we don’t actually know feels like an unbearable weight — one heavier than just playing the part we think we’re supposed to.
But your words tell me you’ve already started peeling back the layers, and I wonder: does it ever really stop? Or is the self just an infinite series of masks, each one removed only to reveal another beneath it? Maybe the truth isn’t in the peeling but in learning to sit with the uncertainty of what lies underneath. Maybe it’s not about finding an answer at all.
Either way, you’re not alone in the unraveling.
You’ve so understood me, it’s refreshing and it makes me feel seen. Thank you Tamara. As humans, I think we far too often fight for some sort of agency or “freedom” which inherently is a paradox to our nurture-based development. We are creatures of habit, of trial and error. True freedom is empathising with your experience, relinquishing your victim status, and choosing to be better. This doesn’t apply to all cases of course, God forbid there are victims of genocide and torture, domestic and substance abuse. The world is abundant in suffering, but perhaps a lot of us have made a familiar home from our supposed “inability” to be any other way. We so can, if we want it badly enough.
Your words pulse with the raw, paradoxical truth of what it means to be human — both bound and boundless, shaped by forces beyond us yet capable of transcending them. I love how you frame true freedom not as a rebellion against our nature but as an embrace of it, a conscious act of stepping out of well-worn narratives we mistake for inevitabilities. There’s a deep wisdom in recognising that while suffering is real, so too is the power of choice — when we are willing, when we are ready! Not all cages are locked, some are just familiar…. sadly.
I’ve come to realize why I like people who are blunt and honest. It’s because it makes me feel safe. I don’t have to peel through the layers of what are they hiding? Who are they really? I enjoyed reading your post; it made me feel safe through your honesty of sharing your story in your life.
“I secretly saw trauma as a blanket statement people generously used to liberate themselves from responsibility. I still partly think that way. Can you blame me?” This is my favorite part. Love the honesty here. Thank you for sharing!!!!!
Beautifully expressed, thank you for sharing!
Beautifully said, thank you, Luciana. It is just us peeling eternal layers day in and day out, adopting new layers in between. I think you're right, in that acceptance has been my greatest strength in navigating this reality. Life is beautiful. <3