I have learned that my scars, both internal and external, are not something to be ashamed of. My scars are proof that I survived.
He was not intimidated by you or 'too immature' or 'too busy' or 'not ready for commitment' (my absolute favorite), he just did not love you.
Drink this snake oil, and you will be fixed/enlightened/saved. Take this workshop, and you will be feminine enough to catch an awakened man.
I think often how Life got the seasons all wrong. Brent and I were supposed to bury Mom and Dad. Not the other way around.
My pain cleansed out the wounds in the landscape of my being, and healing full of grace and honey began its slow slide into the cracks. And oh, this sacred concoction, it burns.