6 minute read
HEALING MY INNER CHILD, A BEAUTIFUL GIRL WHO LOVED TO CLIMB TREES
By Myki Jones
Despite my childhood being full of chaos and my life affected by multiple traumas, I still chose to stand tall, strong, and undying.
The trees native to Colorado, specifically the pines and Aspens I grew up climbing in the hills of Kremmling, CO, have always been a source of inspiration. They are the common denominator of many happy memories,.Granted they were blips in my timeline, quick-moving moments that felt like they moved as fast, if not faster than vehicles on the freeways of Arizona, the first state where I lived on my own.
Despite this, on days when I am reminded of the pain, I remember that burn in my core as my legs moved from one branch to the next; I recall the fear that I would fall when my foot would miss, but even so, I craved it. I still crave it to this day.
I just turned 24. The last time I remember climbing a tree, I was 19. I still remember that last time like it was yesterday. Me, a young adult woman who wanted to be grown up so badly. I had wanted to be a grownup for a long time before this. When this gorgeous, kind, funny, open-minded, and ‘unangry’ man came along to a town festival one evening and invited me to watch the fireworks, all that desire to grow up washed away. When we pulled up to a public park, he took my hand in his in a way that assured me I was safe and said to me: “Let’s climb that tree right there and get a better view.”
I was on a wavelength I hadn’t woken up to that day. All the despondent, melancholy, and bittersweetness of my last two high school years melted away. This simple request to climb a tree was suddenly the only thing that mattered to me at that moment. I stopped stressing about my college application papers, my lemon of a first car, a Chrysler Sebring convertible, that was always breaking down at the worst times, and the irrelevant things I was stressing about.
There was something nostalgic about the whole experience. New, and yet mostly nostalgic, the combination of something I had done in my childhood in the many wooded areas of the county road home I grew up in was now happening with this man. He helped me on that last branch, held his hand out, and had me comfortably maneuver around and sit upon a limb.
I don’t think fireworks have looked that bright since childhood.
As I grew older and life threw me trauma after trauma, it was as though colors started becoming duller as if someone had put a filter over my eyes—not a blindfold—but more like a camera lens that altered my worldview.
I was nine years old when someone first felt entitled to my body. Then again, in middle school, at the age of 13. Everything felt blurry after that, or more so, looked as such.
I had felt truly happy in my formative years at a Theatre Camp in Grand Lake, CO, as this beautiful area was full of two things I felt I could not do in my hometown after these mental blockages had entered my mind; expressing myself and climbing trees. After graduating high school and leaving behind that wonderful part of my life, I was lost in a thick and humid fog, desperately looking for a light to guide me.
But in this tree, with this man who exuded comfort, watching fireworks look as bright as I recall them in my childhood. I wasn’t just following a light out of the fog of my mind, but staring right at the source.
I will not share his name to protect his privacy, but I hope he still looks back on that night, and I hope against all hope that there was something in him that healed him as we listened to our inner children and just climbed the tree.
I often practice deep breathing under the trees outside my apartment as I work through my anxieties about jumping into the newest chapter of life. I have since met the love of my life, a man who is equally loving, equally eager for the adventure as I am, and has breathed new life into a mind that only deals with minor fog these days. For our second anniversary, he took me to a hiking trail behind Carbondale, CO, where he grew up. We spent hours exploring the forest surrounding the trail until we eventually sat beneath one to enjoy a picnic we’d thrown together at the last second with whatever snacks and mini wine bottles we could pick up from a gas station.
I still deeply appreciate that man, that I climbed the last tree with in Kremmling. I am a grown woman who nourishes what little Mykaela loved to do so much—fall in love, and be around trees.
While I haven’t climbed a tree since that last time, I believe the next time, the opportunity presents itself, especially on my upcoming mapped-out travels and road trips, I will listen to the young girl who, in that moment, I can only imagine, will suddenly get the strong urge to race the man I love to the top and see who can spot the coolest sight.
About The Author
Journalist, Feminist, Educator, Content Creator, Myki Jones is working on several creative writing projects that focus on her healing journey after domestic/sexual abuse, the dismantling of rape culture, and justice for survivors and survivors’ families. She is also writing an upcoming adult fiction novel that is helping her make sense of the trauma she experienced.
Myki Jones was the victim of two separate traumatic events which set her on a journey, not only of healing, but also using her theatric and creative writing skills to educate and inspire others. She lived in Arizona through the height of the COVID-19 pandemic where she went on her spiritual journey and began the process of unpacking her trauma through the art of writing.
This promising 24-year-old native of Colorado, considers herself lucky to have three strong, beautiful, amazing sisters and a mother who taught her to stand on her own. She is a current student of life.
Myki is a freelancer doing what she loves. She is happily living in Glenwood Springs with her partner where they spend free time taking walks around town and watching shows together. Her favorite movie (at the moment) is Promising Young Woman. In her spare time, she can be found watching documentaries, cozied up on her couch with her journal, or a good book, running, or hiking. Her favorite food is Indian.
