Pain is such an odd emotion,
rudimentary, core.
It’s not like love,
that envelops.
Not like joy,
that uplifts.
Pain, for most,
becomes anger.
It’s easy to confuse the two,
to label hurt as rage,
to dismiss the ache beneath the fury.
Anger feels louder.
Safer, even.
Predictable.
But it’s pain that transforms.
Left undisturbed,
pain sharpens.
Left acknowledged,
pain softens.
And when someone becomes
so uncomfortable
that staying still
is no longer an option,
growth begins.
Growth,
like a sunflower
blooming after the storm.
I wasn’t ready.
I liked who I was.
Where I was.
But growth
doesn’t always ask permission.
So I welcome her.
The universe.
And the change
she’s gently demanded of me.