Some interesting thoughts are surfacing right now -- I tried to journal in my hand-written journal, but my hand can not keep up with my thoughts.
I have carried around anger towards the heavens since July 10, 1990 -- the day my Father suddenly left this earth on summer holidays when he had a brain aneurysm; I never got over it. I did burry it in "positive thinking" and anger for many, many years. That was until I walked away, reluctantly, from a relationship that was not serving me. Walking away from that man brought up all of the memories of the man who I used to look at as my hero.
They were nothing alike.
Nothing at all.
I don't know why that end brought up the wounds from the sudden ending of my Fathers life on this planet, but it did.
After the end of the dysfunctional relationship, I carried that anger around with me also. Anger at self for allowing it to all spiral so badly. Anger at him for the horrible things said and done. Anger at god for the fucking insanity of the situation. Leaving it was the hardest thing I've ever done; I fell into darkness so intense it felt like it would kill me -- in fact, many nights I prayed for it too, and contemplated with seriousness taking matters into my own hands.
My dreams were dead. The woman I was felt like a nothingness, a shell, a waste of potential. I hated myself so much.
I hated who I had become.
I hated that I lacked the courage to walk away and yet, also lacked the ability to stay.
I hated that I could not make him love me.
I hated that I could not make me love me.
I believed what he told me when he said I was worthless. I blamed him for my inadequate feelings.
I worked so fucking hard to save that relationship. I sacrificed it all, including my own sanity and my own feelings of worthiness. And then when the storm was finally over, I carried the weight of memories, unable too -- or perhaps unwilling too -- let it go. I told the story. I carried the story. I feared the story.
One week ago today I took part in a prayer circle and it was that night that something in me shifted. I did not ask for this to be shifted, it was not what I prayed for or even thought of that night -- but something big shifted. I went from a place of anger and so much pain to an interesting place of actual lightness -- perhaps even, real forgiveness.
That chapter in my life was designed by my soul before I ever came to this earthly plain to teach me the lessons I would need to learn to be an effective warrior -- without that chapter, I would not be who I am today. It was dark and awful, but it needed to be exactly what it was -- I can see that now. I needed to be in a position where I fell into such utter darkness and self-hatred that I would have no choice but to die or climb out.
I don't know why I chose to climb out, but I did.
And I have made climbing out a practice in my life -- I have made self-care a non-negotiable. When all else fails, I know I have my back; no matter what.
Today I am a woman who I feel proud of. Today I am a woman who has fought fucking hard for my life -- I have seen the darkest corners of which nearly took me out -- but, they didn't. That chapter opened up the un-dealt with wound of loosing my dad and the insane amount I miss him -- even to this very day.
That chapter catapulted me into self realization, self-honestly and self-compassion.
That chapter taught me surrender, faith and self-love. It taught me to be decisive and make life choices on my own -- it taught me to trust myself and my intuition. It taught me to say no, to create boundaries and fiercely protect and care for the self. It taught me the gift of dankness. It brought me to my love for plants, healing and Mother Earth. It drove me directly into my bearded mans arms for once I fell in love with me, I was ready for true love from another human.
I know myself so much better than I ever did. I have more compassion for the woman I was at 27 -- the woman who gave up, who so badly wanted to be saved, who opened her heart to dark forces -- oh fuck, I feel for her. I am beginning to fall in love with her and if I could, I would hug her, I would tell her how fucking worthy she is, how beautiful she is and how bright her future is. I can't tell her that though -- the time has passed and she has done her work -- but I can tell every other woman I met for the whole rest of my life how beautiful they are, how valuable they are, how bright their future is. I can tell every woman I ever meet that I believe her, that she deserves the best and that I will always have her back.
I have made a mission of my life to be of service for the awakening of the women on this planet to the power of self-care. So much of this is due to the lessons I chose to learn from a chapter that pushed me into darkness -- and I feel grateful; I wish the past love, truly, I do.
Forgiveness, hey? I am finally beginning to feel ready.