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What Befriending Myself Means After Childhood Trauma

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themighty.com

Tattered pink dress. Tangled hair. Dirty fingers. In my mind’s eye, I see a little girl. She is standing alone, nose pressed against the window of an imaginary cafe.

I feel her longing deep inside my body. I noticed her for the first time today, as I scrolled through social media. I’d never seen her before.

I guess she’s been there inside me all this time. On the other side of the glass are two girlfriends having cocktails. Besties.

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