Inspir@migas, Sacred Whispers by AnaLo

  The day I lost the person who was hurting me was also the day I lost a part of my essence. As a little girl, I grew up feeling invisible, unaccepted, and unloved. I didn’t feel like I mattered in the world or belonged anywhere. But with him—my abuser—I thought I was seen. I thought I could be myself. He was the only person who, in my childlike mind, seemed to truly acknowledge me.   Now, as an adult, I see the truth. His intentions were neither kind nor loving. He wasn’t offering me safety or care; what he offered wasn’t love at all; it was manipulation. He used my desperate need to be seen and valued to feed the emptiness inside him—the darkness that led him to prey on a child. But back then, my innocent mind couldn’t comprehend that. I believed I was safe with him, believed I was loved, believed I belonged.   It is one of the cruellest truths of trauma: the one who caused me harm was also the only person who seemed to give me what I so desperately craved. Outside of t...

                                                                                                                                       I have come to embrace my identity as a learner, and it has    become the foundation of how I navigate life. In every moment, with each interaction, I remind myself that my true strength lies in the ability to admit when I am wrong, to recognise my errors, and to choose again. This simple act of humility and self-awareness has unlocked an anti-fragile power within me—one that thrives not despite challenges, but because of them.    In this space, I realize that life is not happening to me—it’s hap...

Four years ago, I never would have imagined that I would be alive today. Addiction felt like being trapped in a deep coma—over thirty years without light, without Self, without essence. There was only guilt, attack, and an overwhelming sense of being lost. I lived in that dark pit, believing there was no way out, until a miracle occurred, born from desperation. I remember that day, after consuming as if the world was about to end, repeating to myself:   I don't want to be here anymore, I don’t want to keep living like this. This isn't life. This can't be all there is. There must be something more!    Two days later, it happened. I didn’t call my dealer again. I simply felt it wasn’t worth it anymore, that there was an immense weariness in continuing the cycle. That day, I surrendered. And surrendering doesn’t mean giving up; surrendering is letting go, it is handing yourself over to something greater than yourself. People talk about willpower, but for me, it was some...