It's hard to look back on the woman I once was. The one who saw the world through clouded eyes of hurt and distrust, the one who blamed and justified for mere survival. Those selfish, needed eyes, how I hate them now. For they captured a story of only half truths and blink now in shame for the blindness of their broken view. I wish for different eyes, eyes that see past my own cuts and scars, eyes that feel for those who hurt me, eyes that reach past these years of regret and focus on the only One whose love can heal my blindness.
~Heather Westover
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