August 19, 2020

Searching for ourselves after the Haunting Pain of the Past.

I am on a journey back to myself.

I am walking through the dark and shadowed woods of my story. I’m searching for a refreshing water source, where the light shines, to cleanse me. So I can finally be free.

And I am learning to find myself; I am walking this path as my own friend.

I recently read some words that reminded me of how past abusers haunt us in our present with the fear and damage that they created in the past. We allow them to continue to abuse us, to continue to damage us, by keeping them alive in our minds and bodies. 

Why should we let them do that? 

As I walk through this overgrown path in the dark, I jump at every sound. My mind plays out worst-case scenarios, and I weep for comfort—begging God, the universe, angels, source, and life to send me a miracle and place me where I want to be. Foolishly and tirelessly, I am hoping that the beautiful stream of peace I need will magically reappear when I wipe my tears and reopen my eyes.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way, so I’m learning to become my own friend; I’m learning to walk confidently, one step at a time; I’m learning to silence the voices that once silenced me, so I can hear my voice roar.

As I walk this path, this is what I say to the voice that beats me down: I am everything you say I’m not, my little steps matter, and I am going to find what I’m looking for. 

I am going to find my confidence. 

I’m learning to walk through this dark and shadowy place without fear, so when I arrive at the light, I will be able to see it.

“You are worth the very best that life has to offer. You are so full of potential. Look at the kindness in your eyes, in your smile. I love you; I love you; I love you.” ~ The Honest Guys

And each time that I hear the voice that is me being my own friend, I come closer. I trade a moment with the hauntings of my abusers for a moment of comfort. I begin to have moments where I’m not walking this path alone; my fear takes a step back. I can feel it watching me—I can feel it waiting for me to lose my grip—but as I grow into my own, I find myself climbing over the fallen trees that lay in my way.

I am moving through the broken rubble that I used to lie with when hopelessly surrendering to my abusers.

You didn’t dance in the rain, but you did let it touch your skin.

I journaled those words after sitting with my demons. I was sitting still as they yelled at me, depleting me of my inner light. The self-love practice that has been nourishing me into becoming my own friend allowed me to stand up and say:

“You’re right, I didn’t…but, I did… 

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