There is a moment in healing that doesn’t come from books, or theory, or even understanding.

It comes from being seen.

Recently, someone said to me:
“Despite his best attempts, he hasn’t managed to kill your soul.”

And another:
“You still have a large, soft heart… you’re still open to love.”

After everything I had been through, those words didn’t feel small.

They felt like truth.

Because there is something that happens when you experience prolonged emotional harm. It doesn’t just hurt you—it tries to reshape you. It pushes you toward self-doubt, toward fear, toward closing yourself off just to survive.

And in many ways, that’s what makes it so damaging.

Not just what was done to you—
but what it tries to turn you into.

This is where the work of Alfred Adler becomes deeply relevant.

Adler believed that when people feel inferior, powerless, or insecure, they often try to compensate through control, dominance, or superiority. That need to overpower others is not strength—it is an attempt to escape their own internal sense of weakness.

And when you are on the receiving end of that, it can slowly erode you.

It can make you question yourself.
Shrink yourself.
Silence parts of who you are.

Until one day, you barely recognise yourself at all.

But here is the truth that takes time to see:

You are not what someone else tried to make you feel.

If anything, the fact that you can still feel, still care, still remain open—means something in you resisted.

Something held.

Adler later spoke about courage, connection, and belonging—not control—as the foundations of a healthy life. And perhaps that is where real healing begins:

Not in becoming harder.
Not in becoming closed.

But in learning how to stay open with awareness.

Because staying soft does not mean staying unprotected.

You can have a kind heart and still have boundaries.
You can be open to love and still walk away from harm.
You can feel deeply and still choose yourself.

That is not weakness.

That is strength—with clarity.

They may have tried to diminish you.
To control you.
To make you feel small.

But they did not succeed in the most important way.

They didn’t take your humanity.
They didn’t take your ability to love.
They didn’t take your soul.

And now, with understanding, support, and time…

You don’t just get to heal.

You get to decide who you become next.

And that is something no one else ever gets to control.