There are those who will not know Joy, because they refuse their sorrow. I was one of them, once, firmly believing that safety was everything. Biting the hand of do-gooders with their poking, their, “How do you feel?” “How do you feel?” was an insult to my system. “I don’t feel anything. It helps me survive.”
Turns out Joy was worth it. All the heart shattering pain blinding slobbering sputtering mess of it, for that one dazzling glimpse of luminosity.