Then I yoga.
I breathe in expansion.
I recognize that there will always be a memory, a taste of my past wound. I may talk about it, I may not, but one way or another I will love it, for it is a part of me and it always will be. But sometimes the stitches itch, so I must slowly remove them, one by one, breathing in and breathing out. Taking in the moment and the feel of releasing the sew from my skins bind. Sometimes a tear will fall, but in the end it's all ok.
Why?
Because I was gentle. I was observant. I gave myself permission to feel...
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