For the first time in years,
I’m dreaming again.
Not just the fleeting kind you forget before your feet hit the floor.
But real dreams.
Heavy with emotion, steeped in memory, charged with truth.
They come in waves, slow and sudden.
They pull things from the depths of me that I didn’t know were still there.
They’re not always beautiful—but they’re alive.
And for someone who once numbed everything just to get through the day,
that aliveness is a miracle.
A Dream That Stayed With Me
Last night, I dreamed of my toxic ex.
The dream itself was chaotic.
It felt like a flashback to a life I’m working hard to leave behind.
But then, something shifted.
My friend appeared.
He found me in the mess, took my hand, and led me out.
And just like that, the panic softened.
I felt safe.
Not rescued in a fairytale way—rescued in a soul-deep way.
Like some part of me knew I didn’t need to relive that pain.
That I was being reminded: You made it out. You’re free now.
Why Dreaming Matters in Healing
For so long, I didn’t dream.
Or if I did, I never remembered.
The parts of me that longed to speak were silenced—
by medication, by trauma, by fear, by the belief that feeling too much was weakness.
Dreams are a kind of emotional alchemy.
They take what the mind can’t say during the day
and let the soul speak at night.
Dreaming again means I’m no longer emotionally frozen.
It means the walls are coming down.
It means my inner world trusts me to feel, to see, to listen.
This is healing in motion—
when your subconscious no longer needs to hide in silence.
When even sleep becomes a place of restoration,
not just escape.
The Symbols We Carry
The toxic ex in my dream wasn’t about him.
He was a symbol—of old wounds, of powerlessness, of self-abandonment.
But my friend?
He was something entirely different.
Maybe he was a real person.
Maybe he was the part of me that’s grown stronger.
The part that refuses to go back.
The part that says:
“You deserve safety.
You deserve peace.
Let’s walk away from what tried to break you.”
What It Feels Like to Dream Again
It feels like breathing in color after living in grayscale.
It feels like my soul whispering, “Look, we’re still here.”
Sometimes it’s messy, emotional, intense.
Other times, it’s soft, symbolic, full of strange wisdom.
But always—it’s alive.
And it tells me I am, too.
Dreaming again is evidence of life coming back to me.
Of integration.
Of trust rebuilt between my body, mind, and spirit.
A Quiet Victory
There was a time when even thinking about certain memories would send me spiraling.
Now, I dream of those same shadows—and wake up whole.
That is healing.
It doesn’t always come with fireworks or final chapters.
Sometimes it comes in fragments.
In sleep.
In symbols.
In the feeling of waking up and knowing:
I’m no longer stuck in that place.
I don’t belong to the past.
I am safe now—even in my dreams.