Seventh Year

Sometime around the 14th century BCE, people began observing a tradition of Sabbath.
Sabbath was intended for the land that was being farmed to rest fallow for a year. The rule was to refrain from sowing or planting so the land can recover and produce better crops the following season.

These days I find myself in a seventh year of sorts.
For seven years, I have held some pain very close to my heart. A great betrayal, a broken heart, and a crushed spirit led to loss of sisters, loss of purpose,
and HIDING.

It was seven years ago, in this pain, that I went to therapy for the first time. When I had felt nervous, I was encouraged to just talk about what I want and that it was "my time." I was assured that I can go as fast or slow and as deep or shallow as I desired. This led to a journey of discovering myself more and more. I grieved for a whole year, yet I know now that was only part of the grieving. I realized my weak spots and fought and cried my way through that first year. I met an amazing woman who would come to be a role model and huge positive influence in my life. I learned about boundaries and gained self-confidence. I shed layers of shame and understood that it takes more than just me to ruin relationships.
I even decided to become a therapist.

Over the time that followed, I finished my undergraduate studies, started and finished graduate school, and became a therapist myself. I belonged to several different communities, restarted and stopped therapy several times as needed, visited other countries, and learned that I am a Third Culture Kid as well as a Highly Sensitive Person. I grew in leaps and bounds and do believe I am more my true self now than I have ever been.

But all at once, memories of pain unfolded in my mind. They popped up, one by one. This time, the pain was more of a fear. I was frustrated; I thought I processed that pain a long time ago.
I didn't hide.
Instead, I watched the memories pop up in my mind-- a forced choice, a stander by, a half truth; with them came fears of disappointment, rejection, and abandonment.
At these memories, I made a different choice. I talked about them and mused curiously.
Then I counted and the number was seven.
SEVEN YEARS, and now it was time.
And they began to open up, one by one, like flowers.
"I'd like to go back.
       I'd like to see them.
             I feel soft.
                   I miss them.
                         I wonder if this is how it becomes complete."
Each thought, in turn, was closing the circle-- a loop that ties end to beginning.

I am in my seventh year.
Today, I give the land some rest. I have held on to pain that has eaten away at my confidence and crushed my spirit. I have carried shame that was not mine to hold. I have been reaping the harvest of that pain ever since, but now it is done.

The harvest of pain is gone.
The land is at rest.
It's Sabbath.

©2023 Maggie Yousef