Using My Experiences to Help Others: A Journey of Healing and Empowerment

There’s a strange kind of transformation that happens when we go through pain. It’s almost like we’re carved by the experiences we endure. And as much as I’d love to say that everything I’ve gone through was just a series of unfortunate events, I’ve learned that pain, trauma, and hardship can shape us in ways we never anticipated—sometimes for the better.

I’ve been through my fair share of struggles—whether it’s trauma or abuse. These things weigh heavy, and for a long time, they felt like an immovable part of me. But as the years went on, I came to realize that the same pain that tried to break me could be used to heal others. The darkest parts of my past could become the light for someone else navigating their own darkness.

In the beginning, it wasn’t easy to think about sharing my story. I thought, “Who would want to hear about all the hurt I’ve been through?” But there was a turning point. It happened quietly, almost without me noticing it at first. I started speaking to friends, offering them my perspective when they faced struggles. At first, it was just a small comment, a little reassurance that they weren’t alone in their pain. But over time, something shifted in both of us. When I shared my experiences, I saw how it gave others the courage to share their own. And in those moments, something profound happened: healing was no longer a solo journey.

When we talk about our pain, we take the power away from it. I’ve learned that sharing is not about seeking pity or sympathy. It’s about showing others that survival is possible. That healing, while difficult and messy, is within reach. That no matter how deep the scars may run, they don’t define us. I learned that each moment of suffering I’ve experienced has a thread that can be woven into someone else’s story, offering them a glimmer of hope.

There’s a certain kind of freedom in embracing your own wounds and using them to help others. In my case, the more I shared my story, the more I realized that healing isn’t a one-time thing. It’s ongoing. And by helping others heal, I continued to heal myself. It became a beautiful cycle, a reminder that while trauma may break us in many ways, it can also teach us how to piece ourselves back together—slowly, but surely.

Every time someone shares their vulnerability with me, I’m reminded that we’re all walking a similar path. We carry our wounds, but we also have the power to turn them into something meaningful. Whether it’s listening to someone who’s been through abuse or offering advice to someone struggling with abandonment, I know that by offering what I’ve learned, I can make someone feel seen, heard, and understood. That’s priceless.

I still feel the weight of what I’ve been through. The moments of doubt, the flashes of old pain, they come up from time to time. But instead of letting them define me, I now try to see them as the very foundation from which I can help others grow. I’ve been where they are. I know the feeling of being lost in the dark. But I also know what it’s like to find light when you least expect it.

Helping others isn’t always about having all the answers. It’s about being there, offering a hand, and letting someone know they’re not alone in their journey. It’s about sharing pieces of my story so that someone else might find strength in their own. And in doing that, I’ve found my purpose—not only to heal but to be a source of healing for others.

In the end, the most important thing I’ve learned is this: our experiences, no matter how painful, are never wasted. When we use them to lift others up, we take something dark and turn it into light. And that light can guide someone else through their storm.

I’m not the sum of my trauma or the abuse. I am the person who chooses to help others find their way through similar struggles and that’s what makes it all worth it.

xoxo,

fly girl