The Body Keeps Score.

My body remembers what my mind tries to revise.

It flinches before I understand why.

It tightens at the sound of certain names, certain tones, certain silences that echo too closely to something I survived.

I have rehearsed forgetting—

told myself it wasn’t that bad.

That I was dramatic.

That pain requires proof to be valid...but the body does not lie.

It stores everything—in muscle, in breath, in the way my shoulders rise like they are waiting for impact that never quite arrives. 

Healing is not linear.

It is remembering without reliving.

It is learning that safety is not a temporary condition.

It is teaching your body that the war is over—even when it still wakes up fighting.