Losing You Was My Becoming

Last night I struggled.

I was triggered during the day by something my mother said in passing and by bedtime I was unwound. I was face down in my husband’s lap balling. It did not stop there. I cried when we went to bed. I woke up an hour after going to bed and cried some more. My husband held me and talked me through it as best he could.

This morning he let me sleep. He got up with little bubby and handled the morning routine. Two hours later I came out to a quiet house. Little bubby was taking his first nap, my husband was sitting on the couch watching the news on low volume. I was greeted by his smile and by the wagging tail of my excited Lucy.

I pat Lucy’s head and crawled into my husband’s lap.

I have been holding in all the pain and grief. I have been trying so hard to remain functional. The lid is off.

I asked to feel my pain and The Universe obliged. I am in pain.

I have decided to attempt to talk honestly with my parents one last time about our dysfunction and working towards healing as a family. If this message falls on deaf ears, as my previous attempts have, that is it for me. I will not subject any of my babies (internal or little bubby) to this swamp.

I am raw and reeling and trying desperately to keep my head above water. AND there is a deep sense of peace rising from my power center because this is the decision that has been waiting to be made and finally I am here.

I never wanted to be here AND somehow I have known I was coming.

Right now I do not feel big. I do not feel much like a hero. I am though and even if I don’t feel it, I know it is true.

Because here I am, going through it, not running. I am doing hard things. It is so hard.

I am scooping everyone into my lap and I am walking out of this place we do not belong…

And I am not afraid.

losing you was my becoming


Re-Defining Safety

Fear, shame, and doubt popped up this morning to tell me untruths about the danger of what I am doing. They were warning me about the calamity that will come from allowing myself to walk openly out in the world with my heart exposed. What you are doing is dangerous – you will only get hurt! 

I scooped my little ones into my lap and held them close as I examined where these messages were coming from. What I did not do was believe the messages. I did not shrink. I can no longer pretend to be what I am not, and I am NOT small.

I started to wonder what these littles learned about love and about feeling things – any things, all things.

To love openly is dangerous.
To feel what we’re feeling openly, freely, publicly, truthfully is dangerous.

This is where disconnection happens. Right here in these untruths.

This is where we shut off our heart, our soul, our creativity, our ability to be with each other and experience connection.

We become hard, rigid, afraid, empty. We create a void and the only thing that can fill that void is the exact thing we are running from, the thing we told ourselves was dangerous. Love is the missing piece. Allowing ourselves to feel what we feel without shame, without fear – this is the only way to fill the void and reconnect with our truth about who and what we are. Some people call this our essence, some people say light and love, some people say sacred, some say holy. I like all of these words, right now the word that has been coming up for me is color. I am bright, boundless, exploding, illustrious color. The word is not what matters, the feeling that rises up when you know you are home in your truth – that is what matters.

When any part of me wants to play small I think I am ultimately looking for safety. I have to keep showing all parts of me over and over and over that we can be BIG and safe. I am comfort. I am love. I am safety – These arms, this heart, this lap, these words. I am safety AND I am NOT small.

I want to take a moment to recognize the monumental growth I have experienced when it comes to holding myself in love and sacredness. In years past when shame came to visit (multiple times a day) it was a tornado of an experience and I was always sucked in. Today it took me a matter of moments to say out loud, No. This is not my truth., and then hold the pieces of myself that were experiencing fear, shame, and doubt in love and gentleness. I am a good mother and all of me feels that truth deeply because of the way I have learned to love and nurture myself.

What I am doing is not dangerous, it is the most courageous thing I have ever done.

Sweet girl, 

You are. You know. All you have to do is trust.


Coming Home

It has been roughly a year and a half since I last wrote in this space. A lot has taken place in that time, what has not happened is a whole lot of writing. There are reasons I could give and on the face they would appear completely valid; the truth is though, nowhere else felt like home. I tried writing in two other spaces and inspiration fell flat or never materialized at all. With all that has happened in the past 18 months I have been a fountain of inspiration and it has chafed me not to have a place to flow freely with my words.

Finally I took a moment to reflect on two things;

  1. Where was the last place that felt like home in terms of writing.
  2. Why did I leave that place.

The first answer was easy, Adding to Nine. I knew immediately this was home and my soul was being called to it.

The second answer was harder. I had to sit in some uncomfortable truths.

So to answer Why did I leave?

My truth is I felt too exposed after sharing my rape story. I was ready to share AND it was terrifying.
My truth is I knew there was someone reading this blog who does so with malice in their heart for me.

I was moving towards a place of truly allowing myself to be seen AND wanting to stay hidden at the same time. I learned pretty quickly you cannot have it both ways.

I abandoned this space I created to step into my light out of fear and as a result I left my light behind.

Now, a year and a half later I have come home to set myself free at last.

I understand that writing here means being seen by at least one person, maybe (probably) more, that are willing me to fail. Welcome. I willingly invite you to be here.

I have decided I am done playing small. I am done running from myself. And I am no longer afraid of my story, which means – you have no power here. I am taking my power back, restoring it to its rightful place, and coming home to be free.

shining my light

Give it a Year


I went over my list of business questions with my mentor including his thoughts on whether or not to set up a LLC. I was not only pleased to hear his response, it helped a light bulb go off in my head.

He said to give it a year.  Since I am going to have liability insurance, an LLC would just be an extra layer of protection, but do I need it? What am I afraid of?

Nothing that getting an LLC would fix.

Suddenly I realized why establishing an LLC did not speak to me in the first place, I would be making a decision based in fear and doubt that would energetically create a divide between myself and my clients.

Of course I need to take reasonable precautions, which is why I am getting liability insurance. But for the kind of work I am doing right now I do feel an LLC is more than I what I need to feel “safe”.

In a car I have insurance and wear my seatbelt “just in case” but I do not drive a military tank around to ensure no one on the road can ever hurt me.

I am not afraid of my clients, or humanity, on that level. There will be a time when I may reconsider the LLC, maybe when I truly on my own in private practice, right now I am going to focus on connection and feel secure in my own abilities to keep my self and my clients safe.

Beginnings Are Not Always Beautiful

butterfly maya angelou

I have been having some feelings about the way I am starting this blog. I have been under a cloud for a few weeks now and to make matters worse for myself I have been struggling in the self-compassion department. I have been relying more on outside love and validation than focusing on how I can show up for myself. I have not been showing up for myself. I am mad at the part of me that is holding me hostage under this cloud, I want to be free to return to the sunshine.

Tonight as I was getting ready for bed my self-doubt got real loud and aggressive. My not-good-enoughs showed up in full force; you are a fraud, you cannot do this, you did not earn your A’s, you do not deserve your degree, you don’t know anything; you are going to fail, you are going to fail, you are going to fail and end up alone.

My not-good-enoughs are brutal.

I talked to my husband for a while who was able to normalize what I was feeling and help put everything in perspective. I felt a lot better after our talk. Then we watched two Neil DeGrasse Tyson videos because he ALWAYS makes me feel better. I once read that one of his life missions is to lessen human suffering and I can personally say that he has done that for me time and time again with his wisdom and gentleness.

After the videos I started thinking, as his videos always lead me to do, and I remembered my intention for the year: transformation.

That was a big intention to put out there, I wonder if I fully understood what I was signing up for when I breathed life into it?

The thing is transformation is not an easy process, not at all. It is not easy or tidy or painless. It is in fact the complete opposite across the board; transformation is scary and messy and incredibly painful. A seed that is planted beneath the earth has to force it’s way to the top, all on its own, through layers and layers of seemingly endless dirt to finally arrive where the light exists. I cannot begin to imagine how overwhelming that process must feel for that seedling; once its little leaves feel the warmth of the sun for the first time I am sure it all seems worth it though. When a caterpillar goes into the dark alone and grows wings it is not an easy, tidy, painless process; the results make all of that scary, messy pain worth it though. When a woman grows a child in her womb the process nor the end result are easy, tidy, or painless; yet again once everyone has survived the fear and agony of birth it all feels worth it.

I am about to peek my little head above the surface and I am scared. I am terrified. It is right now in this moment just weeks before my something new begins that I am most afraid but I know – I just KNOW- greatness lies on the other side of this pain and fear.

It is okay that I am feeling this way. It is okay that I am not hiding it. This is honest, this is the truth. My hard times carry as much value as my joy and their story is worthy of being told too. I am not always great at showing up for myself, it is a constant work in progress, I will always be trying though and tonight I have found my way with the help of my husband, and Neil, and Maya.

Sometimes you just need reminders; reminders that we all feel this way, reminders that even nature struggles through messy beginnings, reminders that there are no rules that say beginnings, middles or ends have to be beautiful, reminders that even when you feel alone you never are – even in my moments of deepest disconnection I am connected to the universe and all the life within it.

I am grateful for mindfulness, and compassion, and the awesome wisdom of those who inspire me. I am grateful for courage, and love, and willingness to be seen even when I am doing my best to hide. I am grateful for my path, and my truth, and knowing that I do not have to be in control all the time – the sun will still rise with or without me.

I am grateful for this life. Truly, truly grateful. Grateful beyond measure.