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How I Found Beauty in My Broken Pieces With Complex PTSD

I was born the same as most everyone else, a flawless porcelain doll. That was, until my mother dropped me and shattered me into a thousand pieces.

Her years of physical and emotional abuse and neglect left me with complex post-traumatic stress disorder (C-PTSD). I used to believe my broken pieces could never be put back in place — that I could never be whole again.

I used to believe no one could accept my shattered figure, much less find it beautiful. Over time, I have come to learn something much different.

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