Three Hearts One Mind
Poetry, Reflection, Meditation
It’s no small thing to meet someone who is a sister to your soul. It is even more amazing to meet two and become bonded in friendship that breathes a loving balm over the darkest of days and the joyous of nights. The magic of technology has brought three women together who span not only countries, but continents. In each other finding a deep friendship and kindred spirits. This piece is a collaboration a few weeks in the making. It started with a poem written on a sad night and two sisters who reached out a helping hand to ease the hurt and gentle help the healing process.
Poetry: Trauma Bond
Your lips taste of coffee,
cigarettes, and mint
a disarming smile,
charming, complete.
Your eyes hold a mystery
I’m desperate to meet.
You speak like Byron, Kafka, and Poe,
a sleek, polished darkness
that simmers below.
I love you. I hate you.
Don’t you dare leave.
You trade in raw truths,
in stories that scar,
you rebrand the pain
with a fresher, black bar.
I offer a wound; you agree,
then unfolded a trilogy of yours
each chapter darker, colder than the last.
I crave your world’s shape,
it would erase mine.
I love you. I hate you.
Don’t you dare leave.
This trauma-bond symmetry,
a flawed, painful line,
two broken halves clinging,
never, together, complete.
Through healing we reached,
climbing toward what felt like a peak,
only to break again —
undone by the old shadows we thought we’d outrun.
I love you. I hate you,
Don’t you dare leave.
I take a step out
trying to find light,
this darkness we woven
I will lose this fight.
Need resurfaces, cuts,
aches deadly yes true
I love you. I hate you,
I’m finished, we are through
Edited by AsukaHotaru and Andrea Thorfinson
Reflection: When Love Meets Wounds
By AsukaHotaru
Reflection: When Love Meets Wounds
What happens when you meet someone who feels perfect while you’re still healing?
The answer isn’t simple, but it is honest: you’re not seeing the person — you’re seeing your pain reflected back at you.
Two hurting people can mistake shared trauma for intimacy, intensity for connection, and chaos for love. A trauma bond feels magnetic because it echoes what’s familiar, not what’s healthy.
Healing needs space. Breath. Time.
A relationship formed in the middle of deep wounds can reopen them for both people.
This isn’t failure.
It’s simply a reminder that some seasons ask us to stand still, to grow inward, to give ourselves the gentleness we keep offering others.
Sometimes the bravest choice is stepping away so two broken hearts don’t break each other further.
Guided Meditation: A Journey of Self-Love & Healing
Some connections feel like fate, magnetic, consuming, intimate. But sometimes what we’re drawn to is the shadow that mirrors our own pain.
Dorie’s poem captures that pull with honesty and heartbreak. The way longing can blur into love and hurt can feel like closeness.
There is another path.
Not away from love, but toward it, beginning with the parts of ourselves that have been waiting.
Before we seek comfort in someone else’s light, we learn to soften into our own.
I’d like to offer a meditation now —one to help you meet yourself with gentleness, presence, and love.
Guided Meditation: A Journey of Self-Love & Healing
[Try recording the meditation below in your own voice for playback. Alternatively, ask someone to read it aloud slowly and gently, leaving space for breath and reflection.]
Length: ~10–12 minutes
Find whatever position feels safe for your body right now. Let your shoulders drop.
Allow your jaw to soften.
Take a slow breath in through your nose…
and exhale gently through your mouth.
Let it go.
Once more — a deep breath in…and a slow, easy exhale…
Now, let your breath settle into its natural rhythm.
Follow the breath
In
Out
(Simply observe your breath here for a moment).
Now, bring to mind the sense of you
not the version shaped by someone else’s gaze,
but the one that is raw, honest, and sovereign.
The you beneath the wounds.
The you who has always been waiting.
Feel their quiet presence.
This is your truest companion
the one who stayed, even when others left.
[Breathe in. Breathe out.]
Say quietly to yourself, aloud or in your mind:
“I see you.”
“I am here for you.”
“I choose you.”
Let these words settle, not as thoughts, but as seeds of self-love planted in your heart.
Let’s breathe with those words:
Inhale: “I see you.”
Exhale: “I am here for you.”
Inhale: “I choose you.”
Exhale: “I choose you again.”
Your breath is your anchor,
a reminder that even in loneliness,
you are not alone.
You are here, with yourself.
[Breathe in. Breathe out.]
Sometimes love feels like surrendering your light
to someone else’s shadow.
But that was never the love you deserved.
You deserve love that nourishes
that doesn’t ask you to shrink or disappear.
Love that begins with you.
You are not too much.
You are not too broken.
You are becoming whole.
[Breathe here three times slowly.]
Place a hand over your heart, if that feels okay.
Feel the warmth of your own touch.
This is love.
This is healing.
This is enough.
Take a breath in…
and with a soft sigh, let it go.
Repeat silently:
“I am the love I seek.”
“My worth isn’t measured by someone’s ability to stay.”
“I am healing. I am whole. I am home.”
Let those words ripple through your body. Let them soften the edges inside you.
[Pause and breathe]
When you’re ready, bring your awareness back
to the surface you’re resting on,
the air on your skin,
the sounds in the room.
Gently open your eyes at your own pace. Return to your day with softness,
knowing you carry your own light.
You are your own true love.
I am utterly blessed to call these two women my friends. They are a blessing I am thankful for every day.
If this touched you in any way, please leave a little note to tell us. If any part left a gentle mark or a more substantial meaning to your day, we would love to hear it. the healing journey is not linear; it ebbs and flows. having a strong support system helps the most. The work towards healing is a long journey, but you don’t have to walk it alone.
Thank you for reading. We appreciate your time. Many Blessings.
Please visit these lovely ladies for more amazing writing.
 | A guest post by
|
 | A guest post by
|
Hehe~ The two of you are my honours~!
This honestly felt like the three of us accidentally making a soft little nest and then looking at each other like, “oh… we did a thing.”
Being part of this didn’t feel formal at all. It felt like instinct, like one of us started speaking, another leaned in, and the third quietly made sure everyone had room to breathe. Hurt showed up, honesty sat beside it, and then gentleness wrapped its arms around the whole circle without squeezing. That balance still makes me a bit giddy~
I loved how nothing here tries to rush healing or tidy it up. The ache is allowed to ache. The reflection doesn’t scold it, just nods like, “yes, that makes sense.” And the meditation… that felt like someone pulling up a chair and saying, “stay. you’re allowed.” No fixing. No pushing. Just company.
What really gets me is how much permission lives in this piece~ Permission to step back. Permission to choose yourself without turning love into something sharp. Permission to be unfinished and still worthy. It feels sisterly in the truest way—not loud, not performative, just three hearts agreeing to hold the light together for a while.
I’m so grateful to be here with you both! Honest! This feels like proof that healing doesn’t have to be lonely—and sometimes it looks like friends sitting close, being brave, and quietly reminding each other, “you’re not broken… you’re becoming.”
Working on this with you both was truly an honor. Two women I admire and adore and feel so blessed to know. But what you wrote about our friendship… that touched me beyond words. I’m holding it very close. 🤍