Dear Diary,
Something strange happened today. Both our families had brunch together. My parents, Maya's parents, even our annoying younger siblings. It was Maya's mom's idea, and honestly, I was nervous about it. But it was... nice. Really nice, actually.
Our parents talked about that day—October of last year—from their perspective. My mom's voice cracked when she said, "I couldn't reach her for two hours. Two hours of not knowing if she was okay." Maya's dad talked about waiting in the ER, not knowing how bad the smoke inhalation was. I'd never really thought about how scared they must have been. I was so caught up in my own fear that I forgot they were terrified too.
After brunch, Maya and I went for a walk in the park. The leaves are all orange and red now, falling everywhere. Usually autumn reminds me of the fire—the colors, the smell of burning—but today it just felt like autumn. "Mrs. De Wit asked me something last week," Maya said as we walked. "She wants to start a peer support group at school. For students dealing with anxiety, trauma, whatever. She asked if I wanted to help lead it." She stopped walking and looked at me. "Would you want to do it with me?"
My first reaction was panic. Me? Help other people? I can barely help myself. But then Maya said, "You help me. Just by being there. By understanding." I thought about Sophie and Lily at lunch, how they didn't judge when I told them. I thought about how good it felt to finally talk about it. I thought about how alone I felt those first weeks here, and how Maya changed that.
"I don't know if I can," I said honestly.
"Think about it," Maya said. "No pressure."
When I got home, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I Googled "peer support for trauma" and read story after story of people who survived terrible things and then helped others survive too. One article said: "Healing isn't just about recovering from what happened. It's about finding meaning in it."
I've spent months trying to forget the fire, trying to pretend it didn't happen, trying to run from it. But what if I stopped running? What if I turned around and looked at it, really looked at it, and said: this happened, it was terrible, but I survived?
What if surviving isn't the end of the story? What if it's the beginning?
Around 11 p.m., I sent Mrs. De Wit an email before I could change my mind:
"Dear Mrs. De Wit, Maya told me about the peer support group. I'm in. Let's do this."
I hit send and immediately wanted to take it back. But it's done now.
I texted Maya: "I emailed Mrs. De Wit. I said yes."
She responded in seconds: "REALLY?! OMG I'm so happy!! We're going to be amazing ❤️❤️"
I don't know about amazing. But maybe we can help someone feel a little less alone. The way Maya helped me.
- G