LUCKIEST GIRL ALIVE

Tomer and I sat down on a Saturday night (about three months ago) to watch a movie. Netflix and chill, baby!

Luckiest Girl Alive.

Mila Kunis, a new release, Luckiest Girl Alive — yes! A new romantic comedy.

And then… suddenly.

I found myself facing what people usually describe as “uncomfortable emotions.

”Let’s just say — for me, it was more like waves of trauma, flashbacks, stomach pain, shallow breaths, tears…

a truck ran me over — and I thought we were about to watch an iconic rom-com.

To be honest, if we had watched this same movie (or something similar, and there were plenty) even just a year ago,

the chances that I would’ve told Tomer, “Stop it, I don’t want to see this,

”would’ve been very high.

But something about Tomer… gives me the space to fall apart.

To be vulnerable.And let’s be clear — these are new abilities. For both of us.

Me with him. Me with me.

But what happens when you're not just feeling something —you're physically experiencing it?

Your breathing shortens.

Your whole body tightens.

The tears come — and they’re not optional.

You’re there.

Watching something.

And you think: “That’s how I felt.”

“That happened to me.

”And you stay.

You stay in it.

And it’s hard.

Tomer kept asking if I was okay, if he should stop the movie.

And I told him — in a voice that was proud, shaky, raw:

“I need to stay. I need to let it move through me.”

It took me a few more days — real days of shock —to realize something had happened.

That an old bus ran me over,

but something had also shifted.

Released.

I didn’t fully understand it at the time,

but something in me broke open.

And then, in the middle of a coaches' class,

barely able to speak the words — but brave enough to say them —I shared what I had felt.

That the movie shook my world,

that something had been released — and now I know what it was.

Shame.

Grief.

Sadness.

Disappointment.

Rage.

Who knew that all I needed was to stay…

right where it felt the most unbearable to stay?

Because who wants to remember something so awful?

But I stayed.

I shared.

And because of that, a few women from my class came to sit with me.

To share their own hard feelings — and to stay with them.

But this time, with me.

Today (February 7, 2023), I physically have no voice.

I literally can’t speak.But I’ve felt this post wanting to come out for a long time.

I’ve had this heartbeat inside me — pounding to say something.

And maybe I lost my voice because I’ve had something to say for a while.

And here it is — coming out at last.

I truly am incredibly lucky.

To have the tools.

To have myself.

And to have a partner I can lean on — even just for a moment —while I face it all.