Written by by ITE ADEKIISI

Summer.

Just like the name conjures a specific image in most minds – sunshine, vacations, lazy days by the pool. My summer, however, was far from the idyllic postcard. It was a period of unexpected twists, forced reflection, and a surprising rediscovery of a long-dormant part of myself.

The beginning of summer started innocently enough. A routine doctor's visit turned into a flurry of tests and appointments. Suddenly, I found myself navigating a maze of medical jargon and facing a treatment plan that stretched longer than the period I was anticipating.

Confined to the sterile walls of the hospital, a familiar feeling tugged at me – boredom. Or perhaps, it was something deeper. Between treatments and recovery naps, my mind started to wander. It drifted back to a time I had compartmentalized, a time I thought I'd successfully buried away. Memories, long suppressed, began to surface – memories of a younger me, navigating the treacherous halls of secondary school.

Back then, I was known for being outspoken, for questioning the status quo. Looking back, I realize I might have been a bit "much" sometimes. However, in that regimented environment, where conformity was king, my voice was deemed disruptive.

The adults who were supposed to guide me, to help me navigate the social complexities of teenage life, chose a different path. They chose silence. Not the quiet support one craves from a mentor, but the silencing kind.

This realization struck me like a bolt of lightning. Years of self-blame – the belief that I was somehow responsible for the bullying – crumbled away. The anger, long-simmering beneath the surface, started to bubble up.

But Summer wasn't just about physical challenges and rediscovering the pain of the past. It was also a time of unexpected revelations.  As I lay there, forced to confront my demons, a seed of defiance sprouted within me. This wasn't the end of my story.  This was the beginning of a journey of healing, a journey to reclaim the voice that was silenced so long ago.

However, the road to recovery is rarely linear. Before I could truly confront the past and move forward, I needed to deal with the present

Summer continued its relentless dance of challenges and revelations. Confined to the hospital, my physical limitations forced a different kind of vulnerability.  The dependence on others for basic needs was humbling.  Yet, amidst the discomfort, a beautiful truth blossomed – I wasn't alone.

Family and friends rallied around me, their love a constant hum in the sterile environment. It wasn't always sunshine and rainbows, though.  There were moments of frustration, of wanting to push everyone away.  

Despite the resistance, their unwavering support seeped in. A simple handhold, a whispered joke, a listening ear – these seemingly small gestures became the anchors that kept me tethered to hope. This love, however, wasn't a magical solution.  There were dark nights where the anger towards my past bullies threatened to consume me.  The injustice, the feeling of being unheard, still stung.  But with the support system in place, I wasn't drowning alone.

Later that summer Therapy became a safe space to explore these emotions.  The therapist, a neutral observer, helped me untangle the years of self-blame.  She guided me to see the situation for what it was – a failure of the adults who should have nurtured my voice, not a reflection of any personal shortcomings.

Slowly, a new perspective emerged.  The anger, while still present, didn't have the same paralyzing grip.   Summer, a time that forced me to confront the pain of the past, was also the month I began to reclaim my power.

This newfound empowerment wasn't just about confronting the bullies.  It was about recognizing the resilience I had built, a resilience forged in the fires of that past experience.   Summer became a teacher in disguise.

It taught me the importance of setting boundaries, of surrounding myself with people who uplift and support me. It highlighted the difference between those who offer empty words and those who show up with unwavering action.

Most importantly, Summer reignited a spark within me.  The voice that was once silenced began to find its way back.  It might not be the same voice, but it's a voice nonetheless, a voice that whispers of strength, of self-compassion, and a newfound determination to live life on my own terms.

Summer wasn't a time to just be celebrated, but a time of immense growth.  It forced me to confront my demons, to re-evaluate my relationships, and to rediscover a strength I never knew I possessed. It was the beginning of a journey, a journey of healing, and a journey of reclaiming my voice.   And while the path ahead might have its twists and turns, I face them with a newfound confidence, ready to write a new chapter in my story

Summer, a time characterized by surprise doctor appointments and a long-term recovery plan.

A time decorated with the love of family and friends.

Summer, a time where I was comfortable with going to the beyond because I didn’t want to deal with life anymore.

Summer, a time when I choosee myself. 

Cheers to a time I hated but still survived.