We spend so much of life trying to hold it together, smoothing over the fractures, hiding the rough edges, keeping the surface intact. But what if the break isn’t failure at all? What if it’s the beginning?
The crack is where the light gets in. It’s the place where the old shell finally gives way, where something larger than our control slips through, sometimes gently, sometimes like a flood.
I see it happen in therapy all the time. A voice trembles, a silence stretches too long, a truth slips out before it’s fully safe. These aren’t signs of collapse. They’re openings. Through them, light and possibility find their way in.
We’re wired to patch things fast, to close over whatever feels exposed. But if you stay with the crack, even for a moment, you start to see what was hidden behind the effort to stay whole. Pain is part of it, but so is clarity, aliveness, and the strange relief of being real.
Healing isn’t about being unbroken. It’s about letting the cracks become part of the design, places that hold texture, depth, and resilience.
Once you’ve seen light through the break, even for a second, you stop pretending the shell was ever perfect. You grow into something more honest, more alive, more human.