The tree of me.

reblogging some of my first posts from a few years back

NOT MY SECRET...overcoming the shame of sexual abuse

I was raised by a gardener. She knew everything about every flower, plant, tree, shrub, and weed. She could tell you that if it said full sun, then it did not mean full “Florida” sun! She knew when to transplant or move to a new location for a plant that wasn’t doing well. She could tell you about the roots, the watering, the trimming, the sunlight, and every other requirement needed to have a happy yard. She talked to her plants. She said they were sad when they were wilted and she would water them and tell them they would be better soon. She planted each flower with love because she believed it would help them grow. I watched her my whole life working in the yard and tending to her plants. Some things I was sure were dead but she would always say wait until spring because it may come…

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