What You Didn’t Know… Until You Did

What you don’t know, what you were never intentionally shielded from, yet never fully told or understood, it sits quietly within you.

And then one day, something shifts.

A conversation.
A moment.
A piece of truth that lands not just in the mind, but in the body.

And suddenly, you feel something you never thought you would receive.

Not answers in the way you imagined…

But a softening.
A settling.
A quiet knowing that says, it’s okay now.

There is this strange paradox in it all, because as much as the information could have been life-changing to know back then.
There is also this deep, unwavering truth within, that you had to walk the path you walked.

Not because it was fair.
Not because it was easy.
But because somehow, it shaped the capacity within you to now hold it differently.

To not just know, but to feel and process and release.

And that changes everything.

The only time I can recall feeling something similar before, was when reading about the children wandering in the wilderness in the Bible. For so long, I was given a narration centred on punishment, judgement, and testing.

But now I see it differently.

It would have been easy for them to take the shortcut.
To bypass the wilderness entirely.

But where would the growth have come from?
Where would faith have been built?
Where would the inner transformation take place?

Yes they suffered, they experienced loss, grief, frustration.

They complained.
They reacted.
They got caught in the small things… just like we do.

But their path, every obstacle, every detour it was theirs.

And it was necessary.

Because suffering and joy they are not separate, they are intertwined and as humans, that’s something we resist so deeply.

Often, it’s not the event itself that shapes us,

It’s how we hold it.
How we process it.
How we move with it or against it.

Yesterday, I sat across from someone who, for most of my life, I had unknowingly labelled as my “saviour” of childhood.

She was like an older sister to me, someone I relied on, someone who felt safe and yet, I never realised until more than 35 years later how much her leaving had never been processed within me.

In my mind, she had simply been there and then she wasn’t.

That was the story I carried.

But yesterday, I heard hers.

She hadn’t just “moved in.”
She had run away from home.
And my dad had taken her in, fostered her, gave her safety.

And in that moment, I turned to her and said,

“You did to me what my father did for you.”

I haven’t shared all of my story in full, but I was taken from my mum at 11 by Child Services.

At the time, I didn’t have language for it.
I didn’t have understanding.

I was living in shock, surviving more than living.

My mother was still seeing the man who had abused me, there were court proceedings and there was chaos.

But what I remember most was not being asked:

“Are you okay?”
“How are you?”

Instead, I held her pain.
Her confusion.
Her grief.

And somewhere along the way, I learnt my role was to support her and not to be protected.

For years, I believed people knew and didn’t care. That belief didn’t just sit quietly.

It shaped everything.

The way I showed up.
The way I fought for others.
The way I overcompensated.

Because if no one was going to protect me, I would protect myself and everyone else along the way.

Even at my own expense.

But yesterday…

Something shifted.

She shared with me the lengths she went to, the actions she took to protect me, things I never knew and as she spoke, I felt it move through my entire body.

An overwhelming wave of emotion.

Not just sadness…
But something deeper.

Recognition.
Gratitude.
Relief.

I leaned over, hugged her, and thanked her, I don’t think she fully understood what that moment gave me.

Because it didn’t change what happened

But it changed what I believed.

For the first time, I felt

Someone cared enough to protect me, for me.

Not out of obligation.
Not out of circumstance.

But because I mattered.

And with that came clarity.

Why I fought so hard for others.
Why I couldn’t stand injustice.
Why I overstepped, overgave, overextended.

It wasn’t just who I was.

It was what I had learnt to survive.

Over the years, I’ve been slowly unravelling those patterns.

Learning to let others fight their own battles.
Learning that I don’t have to carry everything.

But I never fully understood the why behind it, until now and in that moment yesterday,

There was no regret.

No wishing to go back.

No longing to rewrite the past.

Just peace.

A deep, embodied peace.

Because I could see it clearly, if I had known back then my life may have looked different.

But I wouldn’t be who I am now.

I wouldn’t have the capacity I hold.
The awareness.
The depth.

Just like the wilderness…

The long way wasn’t wasted.

It was preparation.
It was refinement.
It was becoming.

And maybe that’s what healing truly is.

Not erasing what was.
Not needing it to be different.

But arriving at a place where you can hold it all

With understanding.
With compassion.
With softness.

And finally say,

It’s okay. I’m okay.

And I can let this go now.