What is love? Love is knowing that I could have been killed in December 2009; the world could be without a Jessica Marie Corvo. But it’s not. I’m here. I survived. And to me, love is honouring, respecting, and celebrating that I’m here. My existence matters. And I am worthy.
So many things to say but I’m unable to find the right words. My heart is conflicted on a few levels. The last few weeks, it’s been cluttered with embracing being discarded by my mother, betrayed by my great auntie, emotionally dismissed by my great uncle, criticised by a lover, chased by kindred souls, supported by friends, and… loved by me.
I stumbled across an article. It was a woman that shared some pretty traumatic abuse, in church, by her father. The sentence that caught my attention is one that I heard in my family… on many occasions, “Stop crying or I’ll give you something to cry about!” Another favourite one-liner was, “I’m not yelling, doContinue reading “If my wounds were visible…”