About the Author Antwan Turpeau: Have you ever felt like you forgot how to breathe? Like something hit your chest so hard, even the air feels heavy? Trauma doesn’t just steal your peace; it takes your sleep, words, and breath. It leaves your body tense and your heart unsure.
Healing doesn’t begin with loud changes or big leaps. Sometimes, it begins with one slow breath in a quiet room. It starts when you stop running and sit with the pain, even if your hands shake.
This is not a post to fix you. It is a space to rest and breathe again.
Antwan’s story in Hope Not Seen shows that brokenness doesn’t have the final word. He walked through darkness and kept breathing. His journey is hard, but it’s real, and it reminds us that even after life breaks you, you can rise again, one breath at a time.
You Don’t Have to Rush
Healing does not run on a clock. It has no finish line, and it follows no schedule. Some days feel long, and some nights feel endless. But that doesn’t mean you are behind.
Many people will tell you to be strong or to move on. They may mean well, but they do not see your wounds. Real strength isn’t loud. It doesn’t always look brave. Sometimes, it just means getting out of bed and breathing again.
Antwan didn’t heal in a day. He sat in silence. He broke down more than once. But he stood again, even when it hurt. His steps were slow, but they still moved forward.
You don’t need to rush. You can take one breath, one walk, or one honest word at a time. Small steps still count, and quiet days still matter.
You don’t have to be okay today. You only need to stay and slowness is not failure, it’s the way many survive.
How to Breathe When You Feel Numb
Sometimes the pain feels too big to touch. Other times, it feels like nothing at all. You sit still, but you feel far away from yourself. That numbness is part of trauma. It isn’t weakness—it’s your body trying to protect you from more hurt.
But you can still breathe, even when you feel frozen. Try this: sit still. Feel your feet press against the ground. Look around you and name five things you can see. Place your hand on your chest and whisper, “I’m still here.” Now breathe in slowly, four seconds in, hold it, and then let it go. Do it again.
It may feel strange at first. You may not believe it helps. But keep doing it anyway. Antwan didn’t always feel ready. He felt numb, too. But he showed up, again and again, with each breath.
Breathing is more than a body habit. It reaches deep into the soul. Every slow breath tells your body, “You are safe now.” With time, your heart begins to believe it.
Breathing is quiet work. It won’t shout or shine. But it brings life back, little by little, and that’s how healing begins.
Talk, Even If Your Voice Shakes
After trauma, silence can feel like a heavy coat you never asked to wear. It stays with you, pressing on your chest and locking up your throat. But words can lift that weight, even just a little at a time.
Speak, even if your voice shakes. Write a few lines in a notebook. Whisper to yourself in the dark. Talk to someone who listens without trying to fix you. The sound doesn’t need to be strong. It only needs to be real.
Antwan didn’t stay quiet forever. He spoke his truth, and with each word, he found more air to breathe. His story helped others, but it helped him first.
You don’t need perfect words. You don’t need long speeches. Just say what’s inside, piece by piece. Pain locked inside grows sharp, but pain spoken out starts to soften.
You don’t have to share it all. But you can share something. Your voice matters. Your story deserves to be heard.
Find What Grounds You
After trauma, life can feel wild and uncertain. Everything around you spin, and nothing feels safe. Grounding helps you find a steady place again. It pulls you out of the storm and brings you back to the present.
Try walking slowly outside. Feel each step. Drink something warm and notice the taste. Listen to calming sounds, like soft music or rain. Hold something soft in your hands—a blanket, a stone, or your shirt. These small things help your mind come back to your body.
They remind you that you’re here, not stuck in what happened before. Antwan found peace in his faith, his voice, and his writing. Those things helped him feel rooted again.
You don’t need perfect answers. Just try simple things that feel safe. When the world shakes, grounding helps you stand. Healing begins from the ground up—and the ground is always beneath your feet.
Let Light In, Slowly
Healing doesn’t mean forgetting your pain. It means learning to live with light again, even while carrying what hurts. Light can be anything that feels good, music, a kind voice, quiet faith, or fresh air on your skin.
Let yourself enjoy one small thing each day, even for just five seconds. Watch the sky. Taste something sweet. Antwan’s story holds deep loss, but it also holds light. He kept letting it in, moment by moment.
Light may not rush in. Sometimes it slips through tiny cracks. That’s enough. Open one window. Take one walk. Speak one kind word to yourself.
Light doesn’t erase the pain, but it softens it. Over time, it warms the heart. It brings calm. It helps wounds begin to close. Even a broken heart can feel sunlight again. You only need to let a little in at a time.
Keep Breathing
Come back to the breath. Breathing again after trauma is brave. It means choosing life, even when it hurts. It means standing up, even if you fall again. It means whispering, “I’m still here,” even when everything feels too loud. Antwan’s story shows us this truth: breath is where healing begins. He kept breathing through the silence, through the tears, and through the fear. That gave him strength. You may feel tired. You may feel lost. But you are still breathing. And if you can breathe, you can heal. One breath. One day. That’s how it starts. And that is enough.
