Page 53

Nina

" S URPRISE!"

It's as if seven people screaming around me yanked the door hiding my trauma wide open. But that's not true. The volume of my family isn't what splinters that door. What actually does seems silly. Odd. Maybe even a little dumb.

My right hip burns, then my shoulder throbs. Phantom pains , my doctors and therapists called it. Reliving trauma.

Every single searing strike of pain is remembered, and the faded abyss of loneliness sharpens as if to remind me of all the time I spent locked away. Isolated and hurting. All of it comes roaring to the surface, demanding my attention all while my eyes are locked on that banner.

Yellow and pink flowers decorate the edges. The letters are in pretty cursive with a hint of purple around them. Five years ago, this celebratory banner would have made sense. I had one picked out for my sweet sixteen. It was similar. I only ever got to see it in its packaging though.

The last time I celebrated a birthday was when I turned fifteen.

I've missed out on so much excitement every year for six years.

Many of them were due to strenuous circumstances obviously, and there have been a few that I've completely disregarded.

Why would I celebrate another year of life when I didn't feel alive?

I was nothing but a corpse of the girl I used to be. The old Nina was shoved down deep for protection, but even after my escape, I didn't want to set her free. Because I wasn't free .

Now I am , my soul whispers inside of me, breaking through the pain of my memories with a new one. Remember , my mind screams as it tries to pull me back from the depression attempting to swallow me whole.

Remember what though ?

That night . Sitting on the curb, all alone, with only a streetlamp lighting the road.

Such a minuscule moment for someone else.

It fills my lungs with a steadying breath.

That was the moment I looked up at the night sky, flopped onto my back and smiled because I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that I would see the sun again.

I knew that if I chose to, I could watch the sun rise and set for the rest of my life. The realization of my freedom to choose if I watched a new day begin set me free.

Chest shattering sobs propel me forward and away from the helpful arms of my men.

I hardly feel the wobble in my knees as I pass my parents and Adam.

Their worried looks and confused attention don't matter to me right now.

What really, really matters is the decorated table beneath the banner that broke me.

That sent my horrible memories to their knees and demanded them to stay while I analyzed just how absolutely amazing I am. I'm a survivor.

I've been beaten time and time again...but my story didn't stop there. I stood back up each and every time something tried to end me. A monster, depression, intrusive thoughts, avoidance, isolation. I conquered them all.

When they wave their arms to remind me I have scars on the inside too, I'll have a home and a support system to lean on while I give my wounds the attention they require.

I don't think I'll ever truly stop hurting, but that's what the good things are for, right? The Gottman relationship ratio of five positive interactions to one negative interaction is important when creating healthy relationships. Maybe that should apply to life in general.

It's time to balance my scale again.

I may be hurting right now while fighting those demons nipping at my calves, but I'm sure as heck going to do it with cake in my mouth and my family surrounding me.

So, I reach for the knife and pause. A smile stretches my damp cheeks as the tears keep flowing. With a shuddering breath that feels close to happiness and hope, I cut my birthday cake.

Happy twenty-first birthday to me. I made it.