Trauma-Informed, Unpolished & Unapologetic: Reflections from an Almost Social Worker

For the truths that outgrow the roles they were handed.

Waking up doesn’t feel like becoming someone new. It feels like finally choosing my own voice after years of speaking in echoes. It feels like stepping onto a path that’s mine — not the one I was handed, not the one I survived, but the one I’m finally allowed to walk. It feels like finding little me exactly where I left her, tucked behind the door she closed so carefully, believing she had to stay quiet to stay safe. It feels like kneeling down to her level, looking her in the eyes, and saying, ‘You don’t have to hide anymore. I’m here now.’

~Rowan Hale