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#1: "Like a Car Crash"

Updated: Apr 13




Wow, my friend. You actually made it. Welcome to the quiet, shadowy corners of my soul. The ripped out pages of my personal storybook. I hope you found your way here okay. I know it takes effort to see things as they truly are sometimes—rather than what they appear to be.


I've felt like a specimen under a microscope much of my life. I'd be staring, too, if I saw some strange girl having a spiritual awakening for the world to see. It's almost like watching a car crash, or maybe... almost crash?

You get this fluttery feeling in the pit of your stomach—hoping something bad isn't going to happen, while simultaneously shaking with internal excitement—waiting to see what happens next. Will she wreck? Will she make it? At this point in my life, after all that I've loved and all that I've lost—I can offer you one spoiler. I'm not going to crash.


I am going to fucking soar.


We don't become who we are overnight. Transformation and transcendence can only happen through great trial and tribulation. Suffering has a purpose, and that purpose is called growth. I used to drown in my suffering. Respectfully, I've been swimming in deep waters since childhood, so I don't blame myself.


In retrospect, I can see all the times where I chose to sink instead of swim. Where I chose to be a victim instead of a victor. Where I didn't step into the highest version of myself. All of those missed opportunities to grow become repeating lessons—experienced again and again until we integrate the wisdom instead of succumbing to our suffering.


I was born into this world a child of trauma.



Naturally—perhaps as a blessing to soothe a deadly event. In 1986, my father and his brother were typical teenagers. My dad was 17 at the time and his brother was 15. One night, they were riding around with a friend who had too much to drink. I'm sure we've all been there before. Although, this was unfortunately one of those times we were told about as kids as why never to drink and drive.


There was a curve in the road. The driver swerved. The pick-up truck slammed into a tree at 70 miles per hour. The driver was safe. My uncle was flown from the vehicle into a tree—killed on impact. Dad was in the passenger seat, pinned. The engine caught fire and he could not escape.


He spent months in Shriners Burn Hospital of Boston on a ventilator—lungs charred from the smoke. He underwent multiple treatments, surgeries, and amputations. My father lived—at the cost of losing his legs and his brother.



Then came my mom. Mom dated my dad back in high school before the accident. They broke up when they were kids. A few years after the crash, my mom reached out. They fell madly back in love, so I'm told. I'm sure it was one of those wild movie romances—where everything is so chaotic in life and then out of nowhere someone comes along and makes you feel again. It must have been, because 3 months later they decided they needed a baby.


And, just like that... Kailin was born.



It's a tragic, yet humbling story overall. My parents raised us well, even after splitting up years after I was born. Just like all of our parents, they did their best and loved us. The story ends okay. It must, because I'm here talking to you, now.


That doesn't mean we didn't suffer. It's a unique thing... to be born into the world with your first impression being that life can be tragic, unfair, deadly, and extremely painful for some people.


I could not understand why someone so kind like my dad would be hurt so badly. Up until he had me, he struggled deeply with addiction, emotional turmoil, and suicidal thoughts because of the accident. He faced a lifelong battle learning how to function in the world as a young man without the ability to walk.


I felt for my grandmother, for she had a deep wound she would carry forever—I saw it on her face every day. And even with that wound, she somehow found strength to keep my dad afloat, while missing her youngest son terribly. My dad defied the odds and found the strength to become an amazing father, made a career as a 911 dispatcher, and blossomed into an inspiration for many.


Ever since I was a toddler, the feeling of love was married inside of me to a feeling of immense pain.


I love my dad to the moon and back and was so proud of what he overcame—but felt so deeply saddened by the tragedies he had to suffer. Knowing that he was burned alive... imagining the pain and fear he felt in his body that night. The pain he had to feel waking up without legs. The pain of finding out his brother was gone from this world forever. It all created this inner conflict in me.


From childhood, I had a profound understanding of traumatic suffering, pain, and loss. I had no clue how to handle these intense emotions inside me—and because of that, the pain brewed under the surface like an infection, manifesting outwardly in my life in a variety of ways that brought me further into my darkness.


With all of this in mind, I'm being compelled now on my healing journey to write—specifically about the difficult, intimate, and intense experiences that have brought me where I am today. The painful stories that I've never yet shared with anyone else. I am committing now to share my real and raw truth—here on this blog—in front of the world. I've never done anything quite so vulnerable.



To be completely honest... it's been excruciating. Kids in school were so fucking mean. Sex is pressed upon girls at too young of an age. My body felt more like a prison most of my life, rather than a temple. The mental healthcare system in this country is a travesty. Self-harm and destructive behavior is a life-long battle. Drug addiction runs in families and it will tear you apart from the inside out. Finding peace within a tornado of anxiety can almost be impossible—especially when your best friend and the love of your life both die within a few years of each other and you're left alone with reoccurring nightmares and PTSD.


Sorry. I know that was heavy. There's a reason I don't usually share this stuff. I'll have to trickle it all out, post by post. I guess it's not a secret anymore... my life has been pretty intense.


The biggest favor I can ask from you now, my friend, is to please know that I'm not sharing this to gain your sympathy. I hold no intent to seek attention, pity, or to embrace victimhood.


There is a light and a lesson that can be found in every single one of my experiences. Focusing on that is how I continuously have made my way out of the depths of my own trauma—and I can only hope to inspire you to do the same.


On my unique spiritual path, I've come to know that sharing my darkness will bring benefit one day to another. I know this because profound purpose can be found in all things, especially pain.


Your pain is my pain—and my pain is your pain.


In this very moment—as your eyes read my words on this screen—you're shining a light on the shadow of my soul. You're helping me heal, and through that you also have the opportunity to heal. Through sharing our pain, shining our light on the darkness of others— we heal together. Thank you for that. I can only hope to do the same for you. I promise to be my most authentic self and express freely and openly. This is a space where we can all bleed and heal together. You are welcome here.

See you next Tuesday,

Kailin of Earth



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