“Owning your story is the bravest thing you will ever do.”

— Brene Brown

Looking back, I can say I was very naive pre-accident. I had no idea how trauma rips a world and a person apart. I had heard things like, stress kills. I did not know what this meant. Not in the slightest. If you had asked pre-accident Shani, if she was naive, she would have said no. My life has not always been smooth and easy. I have had challenges. I thought I knew a thing or two. Still, I had no idea what it meant to live through a trauma of such magnitude. I was not prepared.

Time is in many ways no longer linear. Days and years blurred together after the accident. They blurred together and then circled back upon themselves. There are people who are surprised it has taken us so long to “pull ourselves together.” There is often a belief that one should move on quickly. That we should pull ourselves from the quicksand with ease. That we should not allow the accident to define us. That we should not become our trauma.

But, here is the thing. Trauma changes a person. Fundamentally. Even if we put our blinders on and try to deny this truth, it does not alter the fact that trauma changes each and every one it touches. It might take hindsight to see it. To look back in the years that follow to understand this. But, I truly believe that trauma changes every single one of us. It changes our cells. How our brain processes the world. How our heart beats. How our stomach digests the world in which we live.

Maybe this is why many people who have not lived through trauma want us to move on so quickly. Perhaps it scares them. One day it could be them. So, it is terrifying to see someone they love change so drastically. To see someone they have known become someone else. To see us struggle in ways that make them uncomfortable. To not be as strong as they think we should be. To break under the pressure that trauma lays upon our backs, refusing to move as it sits upon our shoulders. Only lessening the load if we deal with it. Process it. Allow it to change us. Accept that growth is happening whether we like it or not. And in a certain way, yes, I suppose define us.

Should I carry shame because of this? Because in all honesty, for a number of years the accident has defined us. It has taken part in all of our decisions. Both the good and the bad ones. It has carried with it the name fear, yet somehow it has also helped us to become stronger in ways we would have never known without it. It has taught us that if we do not take care of ourselves, we will become sick. We will falter. We will fall. We have learned to protect our family with a ferociousness we might never have discovered. We have tasted the bitterness of anger, as well as taken steps along the road to forgiveness. We have discovered new lands, and enjoyed adventures we likely would never have taken. We have learned to accept ourselves and one another. We have learned what really matters.

We are a different family today because of the accident. We will never know who we would have become without it. This comes up in my mind every now and then. It is important in some ways, but in others, matters not at all. We are this us now. We will alway be this us. This post-accident us. Touched by trauma. Changed by trauma. And yes, in many ways defined by trauma.

We are getting to the point where we do not feel like we should apologize for the times we have stumbled. The times we have fallen. The times when we were less than perfect. For who we have become. Grown into. Because my friends, that is life in the vast shadow of trauma. No one gets through it unscathed. No one reacts perfectly and one hundred percent “sanely” to their perfect storm. And I truly believe, that in some ways, when we live through a trauma, it will define us. At least a little, but probably a lot. But, it is not something to be ashamed of. Instead, it is something to be proud of. A badge of honour. We are still here. Altered, but still here.