This is without a doubt the hardest five part blog I will write. I will admit I have started it at least 50 times and then crumbled the page. Then it hit me, I was just in those moments losing the very thing I was writing about. I stared at the pile of crumbled pages, and thought none of them say what I want to say so you will understand. What if what I had written doesn't touch someone.... anyone? It's that easy to put a mask on... I found myself trying to word things differently in hopes that the message would be heard.
So when I tell you this is vigilant work, and that an old habit- like slipping on a mask happens so quickly, so easily, it's scary!!
So, I did what I do every morning. Some of you will think it's crazy, some may try it, some may think, yes, that makes sense. I have never had a problem loving everyone...my problem was I didn't love myself. I have always been out going, social, confident, knowing and while they may be traits of my personality, I deep down did not love or value myself. I wasn't always like that, it happened somewhere through the years, and I firmly believe with all my heart it happens to each of us at one point or another. It's also common knowledge the more we hide from ourselves the more we show up in our own way.
So here is my real. I walked into the bathroom, where it all started and I look in the mirror. I don't look in vain, I look into my eyes. If I have make-up on I wash it off. The headband goes on to pull the hair off my face, and I look. I look until the details of the day, what I did, what I didn't get done, what I should have done all fade away. I look until there is nothing but me, my heart and soul staring back at me. It is there the conversation begins. Now I know they joke if you talk to yourself they say your crazy, some say it's only if you answer. Well, I do both. I separate the physical me staring in the glass and ask my true self to come forward. I humbly ask for answers...and sure enough the questions come, and so do the answers. Sometimes it is a silent conversation in my head with my heart and other times it's out loud. But my heart, my soul, always answer. My first question is, am I honoring you? You'll be surprised at your soul's sense of humor. It will say if you were you wouldn't ask...To which I ask how can I honor you better? it pauses, then says you know.... I ask for forgiveness, and instantly hear it is always yours. I say, but I tried so hard! Comfort wraps me and I hear, I know. Again I ask, How do I do better? and my soul answers...with love. I protest I am scared, my soul says...of what? Some days I say everything, to which my soul says, it's me...and you know that's not true. Have you not failed and still been ok? Have you not messed up, but not learned something in the process? To which I say a resentful yes. My soul says firmly, there's no room for that here. I look deeper and hear, you are ok. You will be ok. Just love.... I bow my head...most times with tears....and I hear the last words; Yourself. Love yourself. Love me. The love you think your giving everyone else is not so, not until you grow your own love in your soil. I look back up, with a red blotchy face, and hear, Yes even now. It's me and I love you, just believe it....
The reason, well one of the reasons is I am still stripping Masks, and I am still learning to forgive myself. AS life continues and we stumbled on our paths, grow tired, sell out for a moment, put on a mask for a false fear, makes forgiving a continual process..... Please understand that is the most beautiful part, when we forgive ourselves, we can love ourselves authentically. In amazed awe, that is when our love really impacts others.
I need to take a moment to Thank all the people that have and still love me despite this balancing of love for myself.
The first thing I ever did that I couldn't forgive myself for, and where I lost "love of self" follows. It is just the beginning....the rest will come in the third blog. I am taking you into my private world, so you can see there is nothing that can not be found if sought-Like forgiveness with love. Without further comment, here is where it all started for me....at Age 4.
I did something when I was little, that as a child seemed harmless, but the ramifications were huge. It's something I never forgave myself for. Until very recently. And while, much much good has come from my years of overcompensating, it wasn't honoring myself. It was more like trying to fill a deficit.
It is true I was born with a bone disease, a very rare bone disease. When I was born there was of course some alarm, but it appeared as though while it was inside of me, it was dormant. At the age of four, my mom like most moms was my whole world. I would emulate her. If she was on the phone pacing and talking, I was in my play pen, toy phone in hand; talking, pacing, laughing when she laughed, gasping when she gasped, I wanted to be like her. All children do this, they mimic our behavior, not our words.
I remember the day like it was yesterday, when you've done something wrong, failed yourself, or feel you've failed someone you love-you hold it very close. Vividly close. It is from that moment on you question your ability, your worth, and the love your taught to feel vanishes from you, unfortunately until you discover that you are always worth forgiveness. It will stay deep seated until you realize forgiveness is not for the other person, it is for yourself.
Back to the past, my mom was going out with my Dad and they had gotten me a sitter. This person will remain nameless, because there is no reason to possibly burden someone, that may be unaware. Besides, it's not the point. When the sitter was watching me, or rather not watching me I went into the bathroom, to play dress up. I remember all the times I sat on the floor and watched my mom "make herself pretty" Ironic, because she has been an incredibly beautiful woman her whole life, without a stitch of make-up and wild wavy hair, if she ever let it dry verses blowing it out straight. I climbed up on the sink, and opened the medicine chest. I put on powder, lipstick, I brushed my hair. I even tilted my head the way mom did to make sure you look good from all sides, every morning mom did this. Now, I got to do it too!! Best of all the sitter let me, checking in while on the phone and laughing, I can imagine being four I looked liked a clown, but to me I looked as pretty as my mom.
Then I did it. Part of me knew it was wrong, but somehow the routine wouldn't be complete. I reached up for that little packet. That curious packet of tiny little pills all in a row. Mom took one every day, and since I was going to be like mom, I took one. They were birth control pills, which triggered my formally dormant hormonally based disease, and sent ripples of panic through my family and myself for years to come....
Getting real means accepting all your truths. I am choosing to share mine. I can only say this, sharing with anyone other then yourself is not necessary. The point of Getting real is your way of honoring and loving and forgiving yourself. It is all you need to be concerned with!! I am choosing to share to show examples from my journey, and the damage that can happen if you don't....more to come in Part 3....
In gratitude, with much much love for me! And each and every one of you.....
A girl and Her Dog
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