And She Whispered Loudly

I am beautiful… I am free.

If everything is really a lesson working on my behalf to better this life, then my lessons just keep getting sweeter as the years go by. And by sweet, I do not mean easy, just juicier and softer on the eyes of my heart.

Relationships tend to be one of my biggest triggers, and that makes sense for grown children of traumatic upbringings. And for everyone for that matter. No ones had a perfect life. If the people who were “supposed” to love me and teach me the world was safe accidentally created the opposite scenario for me, of course as I grown up I will not trust, I will struggle to let myself be loved, and the way I view myself will fluctuate in the face of human interactions.

 One of the symptoms of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self. It’s where one’s self-perceptions and way of viewing the world change from situation to situation based on the level of perceived safety and/or triggered trauma. I dare to say fuck the westernized diagnosis and disorders… is this not the human experience of many? Especially those who have been beaten with the words and the names of things we are not and never were? Whore, thief, liar, bad girl, bad boy, delinquent, F’s, learning disabilities, failure, depression, cancer, not good at math, stupid, bitch…. Etc.

We were taught to go against our innate nature and to create contradiction exasperated by worldly confusion within the deepest parts of our belief systems. 

So then, if we are so lucky, we choose to embrace our hardships and triggers to break free from the bondage of disillusionment. Last night, I was triggered by telling this beautiful and gentle man the details of my recent past. It’s a heavy thing for newbies in my life to process, let stab them in the gut, and then willingly let the pain drift away like a message in a bottle holding my history… for someone else to pick up one day and find the truth in it all.

I read his voice and became fearful that he will not accept me. I became consumed with the feeling that I am tainted, that I am not “normal,” and I can never tell a normal story to someone I love about my past. My stories are outrageous to say the least and shocking. When you think I couldn’t surprise you more, I do. It’s my life… it’s my story. But, who am I without my story? That is the real lesson here.

Last night I sat with the fear and the sorrow I felt for myself. I felt sadness for the things I put myself through, and I felt regret. Then I realized, this man is not judging me. I am judging me, still. Yes, I have grown by leaps and bounds and have moments of true self-love and miraculous earth shattering revelations… but my insides have not let completely go of the story I tell myself. The story of who I believe I am. The story of how I see myself and relate to the world.

 I sat to meditate on my heart space this morning. I knew the work that needed to be done was inside of me. Whether people judge me or not, whether this man stays in my life or not… the way I view myself and my life does not need to fluctuate.  I REPEAT: it does not need to fluctuate. I need no fixing, no undoing… only the letting go of what IS NOT TRUE. Just be Robin. Nameless, faceless, full of fire and energetic magical spiritual stuff… just having a human experience.

As I sat with my eyes closed in dimmed light before the sun came out, I asked my heart how it was inside. Usually I feel pain in my heart or heaviness, but not this time when I checked in. It had been a while since I checked in with my heart in silence. I felt almost nothing, and I thought to myself, “Is this what openness feels like?” And then a voice, my voice, said loud and clear, yet with no warning, and with the gentleness of a sweet confident whisper “I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” Ok heart. I must be doing a good job; We are free.

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I will be doing everything I can to fight the good fight. Help me make a difference. 

Raising & Healing At the Same Time

I have a hard time imagining that parenting is really this hard for other people given that other people tend to willingly choose to have more children after the first one. Parenting has become so painful for me I can hardly stand it at times and want to ran out the door screaming for someone to rescue me from my anger, guilt, shame, traumatic memories, and all the lost little parts of me that severed long ago. Despite the pain that has been surfacing in a huge way, I am consistently willing to look at it...to learn...to cope in a new way...to heal and do what ever the next right thing is. I am willing to stop the story of  not being good enough long enough to connect with my true purpose.

Today I cried all the way on the bus ride into my amazing therapists office where I sat crying & texting my best friend/soul mate (Ashley) until I was allowed to unravel completely on the old lady like couch where the magic usually happens. My therapist immediately put me into a "soul retrieval" type meditation because what is happening here is my daughter's showing me parts of myself that are painful, reminding me of times when I was little and not seen and afraid. I'm terrified to create an environment of insecurity for her and that leads me to be hyper sensitive to every melt down, negative interaction, and tantrum. I remember the pain & the horror I felt as a child and the confusion. I want nothing more than to shield my daughter from the intensity of that kind of soul breakage.

So, as my guided meditation began, I was instructed to feel where this feeling originated. I saw myself curled up in a ball on the cold carpet in a fetal position rocking my young self back n forth, back n forth telling myself "it's ok baby Robin, I will take care of you." You see, something had happened back them (no matter if it was blown up in my mind or real) that caused me to feel the depths of loneliness and despair. I knew I was the only one I could trust, and I decided I was not lovable, not good enough. Then I was directed to retrieve all the abused broken little selves at all ages of my life & bring them into the present to make peace with them. Then I was asked to think of my daughter Izabella & to call upon her higher-self to tell my higher-self why she chose me to be her mother. Talk about powerful experience! WTF! I have come to the conclusion that this child has chosen to walk this path with me to teach me love. The love that I was so longing for and confused about. She's revealing to me all my shadow parts so that I can stand in my core knowing that no matter what comes up, I am unchanging inside. This is a time for radical transformation, and it hurts. Man, it really hurts, and I feel sad to face these memories and old beliefs of not being good enough... but I realize they are illusions.

Do other people feel intense pain when they shout at their children? Do they know how it makes them feel? Do other people feel like throwing in the towel &  admitting they are not ready for this responsibility nor have the nerve to tolerate one more ungrateful tantrum? Do other people see all the broken parts of themselves when the crying matches breakout? Are other people ok with feeling trapped or limited? How do those women make it look so easy and even make dinner & work out & do laundry & compete with society & be sexy & be gracious all at once? Is this a delusion TV has fed me? I am not that woman... I am raw. I am healing from the terrible things I've seen in this world & felt upon my face. I am lucky to not be locked up somewhere or burried in the ground. It's a miracle for me to be in school and laugh at the obstacles of yesterday and how outrageously courageous I am. All I want is to give my daughter & myself the love I never had inside & safety. We all deserve safety. So fuck the laundry, fuck shaming myself for my parenting shortcomings, fuck the facy dinner & looking good on the outside. I learned today that all I have to do is stand in integrity & ask myself... Am I doing the best I can right now in this moment? If not, what can I do to embody that? This is real life. So, I look forward to picking my daughter up from preschool today & embracing her thanking her for holding space for me to heal & holding my hand through this process. I am thankful for her choosing ME to be her mother and that I chose her.