This post goes off of the one I wrote two weeks ago about trauma recovery. (Catch it here if you haven't seen it already!) In short, I discussed what it's like to suffer from and work through unresolved childhood trauma, but I've yet to talk about what happens afterward.

There isn't exactly a "happily ever after" because my story isn't finished and I'm still healing a little bit everyday. I don't know enough about life and psychology yet to say this for sure, but I'm starting to think recovery is a lifelong process. I don't know if there's even such a thing as 100% healed or if each day is a new battle. To tell the truth, I don't think that would be too bad. Everyone is a work-in-progress in their own way, but the glass isn't half empty. The fact that I've reached a point where trauma doesn't control my life is progress. The fact that I see a future for myself is progress. The fact that I can write candidly about most of what happened to me is progress.

I still get triggered when I'm sitting in a chair and somebody stands in front of me because I think I'm going to get hurt. That one doesn't come up as frequently because I'm usually sitting at a desk (bless!) but it used to be awkward for me when it happened.

I still struggle sometimes in social situations trying to figure out if people are joking or suddenly hate me over harmless remarks about my stress eating habits. (I lose my appetite.) It kills the moment, but I'm trying my best to patch up the cracks.

Trust is also not my strong suit, so I'm very reserved for good reason. It got me into a lot of trouble in the past, but I'm in a safer place now and it's time to take off the safety wheels.

I've come to realize I should stop feeling ashamed of things I can't control. It's not fair to beat myself up for reacting in a perfectly normal way to something bad that happened to me that was also completely out of my control. If there's one thing I learned from my dad, it's that we can't control how people react to us.

Some people will like you, some people will hate you, some people will love you, and some will bully you. The thing is it isn't up to you to decide who does what. You can't make people like something any more than you can a dog grow a pair of wings. (Just call me the 21st century Shakespeare already.) Sometimes the people who love or hate you leave marks that you just can't rub off. It's up to you whether you live in shame or hold you head high that you survived. That's right. Survived. I wouldn't have these wounds if I wasn't alive so they're a sign that I was stronger than the people who put them there.

My name is Jasminder Bains and I am a trauma survivor. Nobody held my hand when I was struggling so I had to support myself and I came out a little gnarled. There are pieces of myself I may never get back but I can honor them and gain closure. I am enough.