I guess there is always just a small child in all of us who wants to feel our mothers or fathers love and affection. Whether or not we can or maybe won’t admit it, is there always going to be a part of us, especially in difficult situations where we just want instinctively a mother’s embrace? So many of us who were traumatized as children missed out on this aspect of growing up with such security. We learnt how to be strong, to resist the need for comfort, maybe even pushing it away in case it led to more trauma. It seems funny to me how love and trauma can be so closely linked at times.
Today as I listened to healing music and began the process of forgiving and letting go, suddenly what I wanted more than anything in the world, was to be held by my mother in a comforting embrace. To curl up against her as she let me cry. How strange to in one moment be aware my life had been void of this one gift of security all children thrive from. To have complete understanding this very loss was the root of all other issues. After the age of 3, there would be no more hugs for me either in joy, comfort or sadness from those I learned to call family. Sent to a world where such a thing would never happen, my life turned upside down – childhood was over.
Becoming an adult at the age of 3 meant giving up on everything associated with childhood, the memories from a time which surrounded me in love, the only reason for staying alive. To go through such things most adults would not easily endure, the idea of surrender often seemed a better solution. Many times in my adult life, especially since discovering it was how my mother “saved me”, did I wish for death. What is interesting about those thoughts is they disappear once you regain those parts of yourself which tell you you are loved, respected and needed. Understanding of at least some of the reasons for being left in the care of such cold people, brings back the will to live while striving to return to my original self. It is only when one cannot remember the reasons for despair, or the hollow sadness in the depths of our heart, nor the love once surrounding you, does death seem preferable. When the heart becomes encased in clay, living does not seem to have much value.
Remembering my father changed everything. Remembering my mother kept me unbalanced, at least until I could better understand the whole situation which only came after letting go of the need to blame her for what I went through. These last few months have been enlightening as the purging of such useless emotions began in earnest. At times there was surety forgiveness was truly felt, then another trigger would show me how there was residual feelings of abandonment and all that goes with it. After seeing a video which was a channeling of JFK did the need for forgiveness sink deep enough to really feel the accomplishment of doing so. Whether the channeling is truth does not really matter because what was said got through the barrier of hurt preventing me from seeing what was happening to my mother at the time. The difficulty of her life, what she faced and why had to be overwhelming. Suddenly my feelings became obviously selfish and needless.
Then of course I was led to different videos reminding me of the importance of forgiveness and letting go, so during the last few days I began in earnest. It’s time to move forward, be in my own skin, my own space, my own comfort without concern of who my parents were and why everything happened. I’ve said this many times during my journey to heal, but feeling is different than saying. One must feel the need for change deeply enough to really make the difference of doing so. Old habits tend to sneak in when we aren’t looking.
A year ago my father said to me I must stop living through him, through his accomplishments. Those are not the exact words given to me, but essentially it is my interpretation. Being so proud of him, of who I was and only so recently discovering this truth caused me to indeed live through him. To be expected I suppose, but it has taken me this long to digest completely what he meant – assuming I have indeed done so. Not long ago I was given the message through the night to make sure I had all my blog posts saved in a way not dependant on the internet, so they were not lost. Grudgingly, I did so because I could not see the purpose.
In the act of finishing this task, one started in Ecuador actually, it became clear, at least one of the reasons, why. Living here once more has separated me from the very experiences which showed me who I am. I began to see how much was already put way to the back of my mind in order not to feel the sadness of being back here. The sadness made it difficult to appreciate the great gift given to me by saving my life. Not ungrateful, just too much sadness getting in the way of appreciation, much like blame getting the way of compassion towards my mother and then accepting her choices. In similarity, seeing how love and trauma become closely linked – forgiveness becomes linked to inner peace and freedom which then allows us to love and be loved without expecting trauma.
My father was encouraging me to see the greatness of my own journey rather than being dependant on his, being linked to his. Living here makes it easy to lose sight of how much was accomplished during those 2 years simply because I have fallen into the same dreary lifestyle led before I made the trip to Ecuador. This made it seem as if it had been for nothing. The fact I cannot leave this country because of the vaccine passport legislations, seeming linked to failure and the impossibility of ever going back under such restrictions. Pausing every once in awhile to read parts of the post which was being transferred, was enough of a reminder it was not for nothing, nor can I be stopped going back if I determine it is the right decision to do so. First though, I had to remember how much strength was hidden inside those blog posts which allowed me to give up such an important leg of the journey to live through this chapter.
In Ecuador, the focus was on my father because he is still loved, still an icon, still present. Of course being there also reminded me of living such a life in such a place, so different from Canada. There had to be this experience of feeling what home was really like, what comfort meant, what connection felt like. I was never going to get such an understanding while remaining in Canada. Here now, I have been brought into political issues and an upheaval never experienced before by those born here. This was a necessary reminder about how my mother’s world was at the time of my early childhood. Being triggered by certain emotions connected to similar situations brought my mother to the forefront. For the first time, I began to see her, feel her, let her back in, a much slower process, but without it there would not be completion.
While having a bonfire (in my mind), burning every contract connected to my childhood trauma which put me in a loop of domination and being used, severed those ties connected to this idea. Blame has not been of benefit, fear has not been my friend, light cannot fully penetrate my soul without this necessary purge. My mother is closer now, so there is hope with such precious moments of being held while I cry will mend those fences for both of us. I feel she also needs this experience for there was guilt and sorrow from her side which could not be properly attended to. My father and I were a secret which could never be admitted to, so her grieving had to be silent. She shouldered the blame while trying to appear in complete control of her world. Was she aware I too carried the blame? No I don’t think so.
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