I live. I heal.

There is something soothing about a blank sheet of paper. And here I am. I write.

I live in a world that tells me my voice don’t matter. Yet, I persist.

I speak. And I hear my words ring.

I live in a world that tells me my feelings are too raw. Too much. Too ugly. Yet, I persist.

I feel. And I let these feelings run through my body. My fingers. My eyes. My feet. My thighs.

I live in a world that tells me my body is too shameful.

The words of a child, “your hair is very very furry.”

An evidence of colonialism. Of rape. Of trauma. Of pain.

My curly hair. My rough skin. My pores. My eye lids. My cheekbones.

Myself is a manifestation of hope, of joy, of good.

My talents. My voice. My sensibility. My passion. My desires. My needs.

I persist. And only when I persist. I am alive.

I show myself. I occupy. I am. I live.

I feel and I heal.

Published by pandamotherly

I am Dr. Esther HioTong Castillo. I am Panda Mom. I'm a biracial sociologist mama with a 4 year-old daughter. Four years ago, my complicated birth and the sea-change in my career and family had thrown me into the downward spiral of depression and anxiety. Now, I'm sharing my story and writing my way to health and wellness at the intersection of trauma, intergenerational trauma, family, and parenting.

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