Once Upon a Healing

Journey to Rewrite the Soul’s Story

 

The therapy circle was no ordinary gathering. Each heroine sat in a chair that shimmered as if it held the threads of their past and the promise of their future. Above them hung a chandelier that pulsed faintly, its light mirroring the rhythm of their hearts. In the centre of the room, a soft, golden glow appeared—a figure draped in starlight and wisdom.

 

It was the Fairy Godmother, but she wasn’t here to wave her wand and grant quick fixes. Instead, she carried a book titled The Science of Becoming. She opened it and spoke, her voice a melody that both soothed and inspired.

 

“Did you know, my dears, that your bodies remember everything?” She gestured to Belle, Aurora, and Elsa. “The brain doesn’t distinguish between a beast’s roar, a spindle’s curse, or the icy isolation of fear. Your nervous systems hold onto the past like a thread in a tapestry. But here’s the magic—when you rewrite your story, your brain rewires itself. It’s called neuroplasticity. With love, courage, and a little patience, you can teach your mind Once Upon a healing and body that you’re safe now.”

 

Rapunzel leaned forward, her eyes wide. “So… even if I still feel trapped sometimes, I can change that?”

 

The Fairy Godmother smiled. “Absolutely. The mind is like a garden. What your water grows. And forgiveness, my dear, is the rain that softens the hardest soil—whether it’s forgiveness for others or for the parts of yourself that you’ve been too harsh on.”

 

She turned to Pocahontas, her gaze warm but firm. “Your ancestors’ stories live in your roots, in the foundation of your being. The choices they made—the love they gave, the pain they carried—are yours to honour, but not yours to bear. Healing those wounds is how you honour their strength while breaking free from their chains.”

 

Anna held her breath, her hand still clutching Olaf. “But what if… what if I’m too much? Too needy, too desperate to be loved?”

 

The Fairy Godmother tilted her head, her starry cloak sparkling. “Let me share something from Rumi: ‘Don’t be satisfied with stories, how things have gone with others. Unfold your myth.’ You’ve been searching for love outside yourself, but the greatest myth you’ll ever write is the one where you love yourself first. True love will meet you there.”

 

The room grew quiet as her words settled into their hearts. She walked to Ariel, who was gazing at her lap. “And you, child of the sea, have you forgotten that you were born of tides? You’ve sacrificed so much, but sacrifice without self-worth is just another way to lose yourself. Remember the ocean. It doesn’t pour itself out for others; it swells and ebbs, knowing its strength. It’s time to flow with your rhythm.”

 

As the Fairy Godmother continued, the room transformed. The chandelier’s light grew stronger, casting rainbows across the walls. “This is what healing looks like,” she said. “Forgiveness for the past. Courage to embrace the present. And love to dream the future into being. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about allowing yourself to grow in the soil of compassion.”

 

Finally, she turned to the group as a whole. “Your roots run deep, tangled with ancestral stories and old wounds. But roots also hold the power of life itself. When you choose to heal, to honour where you’ve come from without letting it define you, you rewrite the entire tree—branches, leaves, and fruit alike. That’s the gift you give to yourself and to those who come after you.”

 

The heroines sat a little taller, their faces soft but determined. Belle touched her chest and whispered, “It’s time to love even the parts of myself I once thought were unworthy.”

 

The Fairy Godmother nodded, her form glowing brighter. “Indeed, my dear. Love the shadow, and it will guide you to the light. Just remember, healing isn’t linear—it’s a dance. But every step you take is sacred.”

 

As she disappeared into the golden light, her parting words lingered in the air like stardust:

“You are the magic you seek. Rewrite your narrative, and you’ll find that even the parts of you that hurt were always leading you home.”

 

The heroines rose, their hearts lighter and their spirits fierce. Together, they left the circle, ready to face the next chapter—not as victims of their past, but as authors of their destiny.

 

And so, their story began again, but this time, it was their own.

Blessings and balance,

Inspired by a post I saw on Instagram #christina_simone

 

Jodiann