009.

There are times that I just want to be me. 

And not what happened to me. 

I want to be me without the big Ts and little ts of trauma. I want to be the me that you think you know before I tell you what I've been through. 

But I can't. Because what happened to me is not all of me but has become a part of me. It's formed my sense of self, my world view, my fears, my insecurities, my behaviors, even my passion. 

It came up again. Today, actually. 

Me feeling as if someone I hold dear to my heart could potentially see me differently because they know what has happened. And that frightens me. Because as much as it has formed parts of me, it does not and will never become the totality of me. 

I want an island that has mystical powers. Powers that allow me to remain the person that I am yet remove this thing that has happened. For I'm certain, had I not been touched as a child, I probably wouldn't have been forced as an adult. And I just want that gone. 

I want to exist in a place where I am who I am but where that event isn't a reality. 

Because I love who I am. I really do. I've been able to create space for that to be true even among what happened. 

But I'm tired. I'm tired of carrying this around. 

It's fucking heavy and it's fucking exhausting.