Damage by Savannah Dexter

There’s a certain kind of honesty that’s hard to put into words—the kind that lives in your chest, in your past, in the quiet moments when you realize just how much you’ve been through.

“Damage” by Savannah Dexter doesn’t sugarcoat any of it.

It says the things so many of us feel but don’t always admit out loud:
That we’ve been hurt.
That we’ve been shaped by things we didn’t deserve.
That sometimes, we carry pieces of that pain into the way we love.

And if I’m being honest… that part hits deep.

Because healing isn’t this clean, beautiful, perfectly put-together process.

It’s messy.

It’s realizing that you might flinch at love—not because you don’t want it, but because you’ve known what it feels like when it goes wrong.

It’s catching yourself overthinking, overprotecting, or pulling back… and wondering,
“Is this who I am now?”

But here’s what this song gently reminds us:

You are not broken.

You are shaped.

There’s a difference.

Damage doesn’t mean you’re unlovable.
It means you’ve survived something that tried to take pieces of you—and you’re still here, still standing, still trying.

And that? That’s strength.

For me, this season of life has been about recognizing those patterns without judging myself for them.

Learning that it’s okay to say,
“I’ve been hurt before.”
“I’m still healing.”
“I might need reassurance sometimes.”

That doesn’t make me “too much.”

It makes me human.

And the right people—the ones who are meant to stay—won’t see your damage as a burden.

They’ll see your honesty as bravery.

They’ll handle your heart with care, not criticism.

They’ll understand that healing doesn’t happen overnight… and they’ll stand beside you while you figure it out.

That’s the kind of love we all deserve.

Not perfect love.

Safe love.

Patient love.

Real love.

So if you’re listening to this song and feeling a little seen, a little exposed, maybe even a little emotional…

Just know this:

Your past may have left marks,
but it did not take your worth.

You are still allowed to love.
You are still allowed to be loved.
And you are still becoming someone incredibly strong, soft, and whole.

Damage and all.

Elizabeth Tubridy

I’m Elizabeth — a mother, creator, and woman who has learned what it means to rebuild from the ground up.

This space was born from a season of deep change. After walking away from a life that no longer felt safe, aligned, or true, I began the quiet work of healing — not perfectly, not quickly, but honestly. What started as survival slowly became self-discovery, and then something more: a return to myself.

Through writing, reflection, and creativity, I share the truths I once silenced. Stories about emotional healing, motherhood, boundaries, resilience, and learning to choose yourself after years of putting everyone else first. This blog isn’t about bitterness or blame — it’s about clarity, growth, and reclaiming your voice.

Alongside my writing, I create under Earthly Enchantments — nature-inspired pieces rooted in calm, intention, and magic found in small moments. Creativity has always been my anchor, a way to process, express, and reconnect with joy.

If you’re here, maybe you’re navigating your own season of becoming. Maybe you’re learning to trust yourself again, or simply looking for proof that it’s possible to start over — gently, bravely, and on your own terms.

You’re welcome here.

https://www.earthlyenchantmentsnh.com
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If You Have To by Ella Langley