Revisiting resilience.

Who did I turn to in times of crisis when I was a child? Who was there for me..
Teachers. People who shared a caring heart were the men and women who I shared classrooms with.

I was often considered a teacher's pet. I would have conversations with them, and feel like they would listen. I am grateful for the big hearted teachers who touched my path.

Ms. McGuire.
Ms. Hansen.
Mr. Hubburd.
Mr. Sharp.
Ms. Wener.

Some would last long past the time when I entered their classroom.  I felt like they saw me. Some of them understood me. It was nice and novel to have someone who was not always yelling or putting me down. I do not think my father understood the level of anger and pain he lived with. I think his father put him down too. What a sad thing, the passing along trauma in the Family circuit.

My other siblings had different family circumstances. Their father left them early on. My parents fought and arrgued for a long time before finally seperating. I used to wish that they would just be DONE with it! But no. They were both stubborn.


I did not have a healthy foundation for my adult relationships to be an example of. I have done so much healing work, with so many modalities. Goddess. So much time. And finally I feel like I am starting to make some progress. Those finely tuned defense mechinisms are starting to get less traction.

I have gathered tools to be able to share with others, so that they too may address the pain and hurt in their Hearts and Bodies. I love sharing my gifts. It helps bring context to my trials and tribulations.

It has been a long time...

The Spiral of Healing continues.

The Divine has shared marching orders, I am to free write about my childhood. And open to the healing of my stored Childhood trauma.

So be it.

What I can feel most deeply in my body is the longing to be held and nurtured. The inner child within who did not feel/recieve the affection she needed to *trust* that it is here in the world for her.

I can remember my busy mother, and my screaming father. My mother spoke the love language of generosity and money. If it was paid for, she considered that her contribution. My father thought if he showed up for my basketball events, that meant he cared. NOT TO ME!!! I desired a soothing voice, not to be emotionally abused with words and cutting tones. I desired to be taken into their arms and told how proud they were of me. To be LOVED FOR ME. Not their image of who they thought I should be.

I am angry and sad that their love has shaped the way I relate to others.

I feel so out of place in relationships. I feel anxious and easily out of sorts.

I can remember when I had a brother who lived in the same house, what a treasure to go bug him and share time together. Then he left me! Another person who bailed. Now we have no relationship.

I can remember my relationship to the animals...often it was a chore. Literally. Something that had to be done. Little did I know how connected I would feel to the horses, lambs, cats, dogs, etc later in life. They were so forgiving. They loved me unconditionally. Without worry about how good I did in my classes, or what my basketball schedule was. I was enough there. A good petting and they were happy. I was able to do enough.

I am tired tonight. It has been a busy day. I am working on this internal healing stuff.
Fucking learning relationships. I wish I was healed enough to have a serious, Romantic, Mutual, Sexual relationship. Yet each time I try I feel twarted. Inept. My favorite.

Well...life flows on. I continue the healing journey. Another layer.

I acknowledge what my experience was so I can allow it to BE. So it is.

(7mins free typing)