Walked Cliffs Once Shadowed by Fear
There was a time when these cliffs held more fear than freedom.
Places where my body stayed tense, breath shallow, senses alert always waiting for something to go wrong. The edges felt dangerous, not because of the drop, but because of what they stirred inside me. Old memories. Old pain. Old survival patterns etched into my nervous system.
Back then, even beauty felt unsafe.
But healing has a way of changing how we walk through the world.
I returned to these cliffs not to prove anything, not to conquer fear, but simply to be present. And something remarkable happened. Where pain once appeared on cue, light began to dance instead. Not because the past vanished but because I had changed. My body knew how to regulate now. My mind knew how to stay here. My heart knew I was no longer living in those moments that once shaped me.
This is what healing looks like in real life.
Not dramatic. Not loud.
But steady. Quiet.
From chaos to calm didn’t happen overnight. It came through showing up again and again on the hard days and the gentle ones. Through rest when my body begged for it. Through listening instead of pushing. Through learning that strength doesn’t mean enduring pain endlessly; it means choosing compassion when force used to lead.
The stories I carry are both bold and raw. They hold trauma, resilience, collapse, and rebuilding. They speak of seasons where everything felt too much and moments where calm felt unfamiliar. And yet, those stories are the very foundation of my trust in myself today. I don’t need to hide them. They are proof that I can move through storms and still stand.
Standing on the cliffs now, I realise I’ve become something I once needed a lighthouse. Not perfect. Not unshaken. But steady enough to offer light. To myself first, and then to others who are still finding their footing in the dark.
Healing doesn’t mean the waves stop crashing.
It means you learn how to navigate them.
And sometimes, healing looks like returning to the very places that once hurt you only to discover they no longer hold the same power. The fear has softened. The pain has loosened its grip. And what remains is presence, peace, and the quiet knowing that you are safe now.
Throughout the year, through every season, that light stays on.