The Spark Behind the Word ‘Essential’: Before the Wounds: Remembering the Essential Me
Essential - Absolutely necessary; extremely important elements of something.
“Essential” is a small word with major authority. It doesn't just suggest it demands.
It tells us what matters most, whether we're talking health, happiness, or coffee.
The best part? What’s essential changes depending on the person, the mood, or the day making it a word that’s both universal and personal.
As I sit with the question, “Who was I before the wounds?”, I find myself traveling back through time to the 3-year-old, the 10-year-old, the 14-year-old, the 16-year-old versions of me. Each of these ages holds pivotal moments in my story moments shaped by trauma, some so painful that my heart, or maybe my mind (I still can’t say which), chose to bury them.
I wouldn’t fully recall those moments until much later after I got married. Then, like an unexpected wave, the memories began to surface. I didn’t have the language at the time to explain what was happening. I just knew I was being triggered. And suddenly, those rare moments those strange emotional floods started to make sense.
Even now, as an adult, I’ve faced fresh trauma that seems to trace a curving line back to my childhood. If I mapped them out, the past and present would connect not in a straight line, but in a winding path marked by pain, growth, and becoming.
It’s murky at times, looking back. Trying to see who I was before the wounds. But deep down, I know I’ve always been me.
The essential me is:
Forgiving sometimes to a fault, honestly.
Loving and kind.
Artistic, creative, and a daydreamer with stories dancing in my mind.
Uniquely different, and proud of it even when others didn’t quite understand me.
As a child, I wanted to be a counselor or a teacher. I admired how my teachers listened to me, made me feel seen and heard. I wanted to give that gift to others. And while I may not hold a license or certification, I’ve lived into that calling in my own way through encouraging others, creating safe spaces, and choosing compassion.
People used to say, “I’m not who I used to be,” and I used to repeat it, too. But now, I understand it more deeply.
I’m not what I used to be but what I used to be, and what I went through, helped shape the dignity, character, and quiet strength within me.
And that is ESSENTIAL.
Thank you for reading. If this reflection resonated with you, I invite you to share it or reflect on the question yourself: Who were you before the wounds? And what parts of that person still live in you today?
