During my earlier years as a practicing therapist, I held the unequivocal belief that childhood trauma was an undeserved result of circumstances beyond a child’s control—a veritable victimization. My initial assessment maintained some degree of accuracy. After countless years, and justifiable periods of sympathy-induced identity, I discovered a fundamental truth: while acknowledging one's trauma as unjust arises from an intuitive place of empathy (truly acceptable) there eventually comes a point where diving deeper reveals unforeseen layers of understanding that transcend surface-level victimology.

Throughout countless sessions, a powerful realization dawned upon me: it's only natural for an individual (with spiritual awareness) to recognize that their life’s trauma can serve as a stepping stone for personal growth; when viewed through the lens of a karmic context often times a child’s soul has entered into these seemingly chaotic households in order to fulfill a much greater cosmic purpose, much as the Buddhist theory of karma suggests.

This means reworking personal narratives about identity; firstly embracing (and honouring) existing wounds while incrementally fostering emotional maturity — then awakening to the larger framework, which proactively acknowledges this period within a cycle of re-balancing and retribution: the spiritual blueprint. True healing then transforms and serves as crucial catalyst of spiritual growth so inherently sought and yearned after during this time period of one' incarnation.

Yet still, I’ll find my way through my belief-littered conscious human mind to wake myself back up. The Buddhists have a mantra that resonates with me: pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. At a piercingly objective and non-judgmental level of reflection, I’ll come to recognize I am not a victim of anyone or any circumstance. Instead, it will reveal itself that I, in my essence, actually created these childhood experiences for a reason—a reason crucial for my expansion and growth. Furthermore, I chose the people I was to share these experiences with; I had selected them to supply me with the lessons I needed at that time.

After enduring some of these experiences, regardless of them feeling intensely traumatic, I arrived at the conclusion that they served as valuable lessons towards spiritual growth, despite any pain or difficulty, I still needed to go and had a very hard time with these and so I created them, there is validity to this point, of course. However fragmented—like shreds of film caught by a spinning projector—it recurs in memories, moments when truth flickers, fleeting instances before fading away; and fades it does.

Yet in this grand illusion called life, a subtle reminder emerges each time these thoughts resurface. I am faced with a choice time and time again, to remind myself of this somewhat ego-mystifying realization: that the option to re-apprehend, open and accept myself is, paradoxically, always now.