You know how it is when you know you want to talk about something important and you can’t spit it out… In fact, you don’t even know what it is. All you know is it’s lying in your belly as a discomfort, a dis-ease.

Well, writing content for The Wild Elder website did that for me. It re-ignited memories from the past; some good, some not so good. It reminded me of being a younger and unhappy woman who felt trapped in a relationship with herself which under-mined and frustrated her.

For the sake of my young son, I’d chosen suburban respectability as a means of security and stability both in the choice of a husband and a way of life. Looking back, although it had the upside of just that, it was the very worst decision of my life.

I felt trapped by the sheer small mindedness of it all. I was shackled by shoulds and shouldn’ts as I tried to fulfil other people’s expectations. I compromised my beliefs and values in return for the seeming ‘respectability.’

Me? Respectable? Pleeeeez!

I made a prison for my vitality, spontaneity and mischievousness. Let alone my bright intellect, humour and curiosity, my freakin’ maverick, priestess, empress and adventurer!

If you’d flung my truth in my face I wouldn’t have seen it. And, as for listening to my inner wisdom, I’d ignored it on my wedding morning when I heard a huge NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! ringing in my head.

 In the end the only thing to get my attention that my soul could do was to bring me down… And not just once! Stubborn me just had to keep clinging to the painful known in preference to the scary and as yet unknown. 

But in those breakdowns I had no choice but to begin listening.

I got clues, some logical but mostly non-logical through my senses, visceral being and beyond-beyond energies (though I didn’t know what they were then). The clues taught me how to move forward; how to find myself, find my truth and then learn how to live it!

In a bizarre way, it seems as though I had to experience what I call ‘living dead’ to make it so horrendously painful for myself that, in the end, my particular nut had no alternative but to crack open.

And it’s been cracking open ever since, I’m pleased to say!

Now I begin to cry as I feel sorrow for my younger self… and now anger… no!… freakin’ fury… for how I struggled to find my way all alone.

The bottom line is I would have given absolutely anything to have had a woman like I am now to hold and guide me safely.

A wild and wise woman could have showed me how to claim my soul and truth.

A bold and loving woman could have showed me how to manifest and live my soul’s truth for my own and the greater good.

There! I’ve spat it out. My throat feels tight and constricted. I sense a child’s sobbing needing release… And I let myself sob.

Finally!

At last she is free. The amazing-magical being she is and always was…

Love to you…

 

 

Photo by Bruno Van Der Kraan on Unsplash

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