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This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Marymount chapter.

Recently- and by recently, I literally mean yesterday- my therapist told me I was an ice queen.

Have you ever had someone call you an ice queen? This wasn’t my first time, but for some reason, it really struck me. This therapist- who I have only seen twice- called me out on something that only my closest friends and family have before. She’s known me for two hours, and that is what she has gathered so far.

One thing she asked me was “when did you first start freezing?”…… I was struck speechless. Absolutely at a loss for words. I sat for a minute and tried to pinpoint the exact moment I cranked up the AC in my soul and let it freeze over, and I drew a blank. I couldn’t identify a single event that was my tipping point. Which life event was my own personal ice berg that sank the titanic that is my heart?

I don’t think there is a single event that has the power to do that. Rather, I think it’s a combination of events and a constant piling up of pain on pain, like ice blocks built up to make a little igloo, and it just gradually freezes you out, so it’s more of a dull numbing cold instead of a sharp and sudden freeze.

With every insult, every broken promise, broken heart, lie, stab in the back and tear that was shed, the ice wall was built up higher and higher around my little heart. When I was first hurt, little 12 year old Mickey struggling with self-esteem issues, I built up a little snow fort, like one you would hide behind during a snowball fight with your friends. Noticeable, but easily brought down. Really just for show, and to protect from superficial wounds. With age, experience, and sharper heartache, that little blockade grew into a massive and impenetrable ice wall, like the one in Game of Thrones? You know, the one that John Snow and everyone has to climb up to escape the white walkers and shit? You know what I’m sayin’, yeah?

So that little snow drift of a blockade transformed into the freaking ice queen palace from Narnia, and all the brave souls who attempted to penetrate the icy fortress were lost to severe frostbite. Countless casualties, no survivors. There’s literally a trail of ice men and women statues leading to my front door. I should have my very own Paul Revere version of John Snow that rides in front of me and screams “winter is coming, winter is coming”, just so everyone knows to jump out of the way and take cover.

Actually, I wish that happened every time something traumatic was about to happen in your life, just so you could take note so you know for the next time you meet with your all-knowing therapist. I wish I could sit down and list all of the times I nearly froze to death, and list the reasons for the cold. I think that that list would probably be as long as War and Peace (shout out to anyone who actually read the whole thing in junior English class, I was NOT one of you).

I have put so much time and effort into building this wall, maintaining it, and dwelling on the circumstances that brought me to this point. Now, however, although its still cold as a witches titties outside (Thanks, Virginia), winter is ending. Spring is coming. It’s time to thaw out, drop the thick armor- whoops, I mean thick winter coats- and let the flowers bloom again. Let go of the past, and allow yourself to warm up.

So I ask you, when did YOU start freezing, and are you ready to thaw out with me?