Growth happens. The very essence of growth is being broken or stretched, and built up again. We can kick and scream the whole time, or we can embrace it. It’s not about liking the wounds themselves, but about letting them heal. Not running or denying the pain. Not pretending you’re alright. But living in a state of raw. Of protecting your wounds, and then allowing the wounds to be exposed.
Zoey had left a band-aid on for over a week. Scared of how the air would hurt her raw skin. Of how the water would burn as it trickled over her foot. The skin on her toe had been sliced off from a toy kangaroo. It bleed and a band-aid was necessary. But the wound got to the point where the protection was about to cause an infection. One that would be far worse than the cold air blowing on the raw skin, of the warm water washing away the dirt. I mercifully ripped the band aid off while she slept. The skin was white and wrinkled. Soft and squishy. She cried the next day. It stung. The elements hurt her. But as I promised, at the end of the day, her skin began to harden and new skin began to grow.
Growth doesn’t happen covered up. It doesn’t happen hidden beneath our band aids where it can stay soft and squishy. It happens in the open air and in the light. It happens when the raw, open wound is exposed to the elements. Where it can harden off, and let new skin grow.
There’s a time to keep things protected. A time when band aids are necessary. But believing the band aid is what heals the wound is infantile.
Maturity is knowing when to take the band aid off. When to expose your wound to the outside elements.
So here I am. Exposed & Soft & Raw.
Growth hurts. But I’m ready.