Kisses Can Hurt

The story will be told in parts because that is all I have had for so many years, parts, not the whole. I am working my way back towards the whole, I am working my way back to being whole.

I don’t know how or when I arrived at my high school boyfriend’s home. I do remember laying on my back across the width of his bed staring at the ceiling, disconnecting, as tears rolled down my cheeks. The light was out, it was night, his room was dark, everything was dark and stayed that way for a long time.

He cried when I told him. I don’t know what I told him. I don’t think I had told my mother yet so the decision about the abortion was not yet made. I could have the timeline wrong. I just don’t know.

I do know that he did something that broke of a piece of my heart.. He brought his crying face down onto my belly and kissed it.

……I need to pause…..

 

 

 

 

He fucking killed me when he did that.

Up to that point I was actively disconnecting from my body and this reality AT ALL TIMES. There was no denying this truth when he did that.

For one excruciating moment this was true, and we were an accidental family, and I was a mother, and he was a father, and this was our baby.

I remember nothing after that. Nothing.

The curtain came down hard and all I had was the safety of my ability to completely disconnect from this.

I see now how I dishonored this life. He existed. I do not get to deny him that. My boyfriend acknowledged him immediately. That was the first time I did and it was only because my boyfriend’s action made it impossible for me not to. I could not handle it the truth though and I immediately turned everything off.

The only other time I acknowledged this life was the day of my abortion. I do not remember waking up, I do not remember getting dressed, I know my mother dressed me because I do remember what I wore. I do not remember seeing my brother, what lie had they tole him about this day? I do not remember seeing my parents at all until my mother is ushering me into the building passed the protesters.

That morning I am sitting in living room in the dark, it must have been early. I am alone on the couch and I am nauseous. This is my acknowledgment that life exists here. I am eating a saltine and I am with my baby, aware he is with me too. I can only be with him in that dark. This has always been true – until now.

I am getting closer now, closer to love and connection in this place of darkness and pain. I will find myself, and my babies, and hold it all in love. I know I am getting close because it hurts so bad, which means I am finally feeling it. I have to feel all of it to feel the love. I am getting close.

I buried the piece of my heart that broke off when he kissed my belly and forced me to acknowledge my baby and this connection. I am ready to bring that piece home. I want that connection back.

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We All Go Together

Little bubby woke up crying before midnight. This is unusual for him. I went in, changed his diaper by the glow of the salt lamp in his room, and cuddled with him and his velvety bunny in his chair before putting him back to bed asleep.

I don’t think I will ever get tired of sleepy cuddles, even when I am sleepy too.

More than two hours later I am still awake. This is unusual for me. Sleep is valuable in our home, we savor it.

I had a breakthrough in my work today and I am unraveling from untruths. This is what keeps me up tonight.

What I realized today is that

  1. There are still ways in which I am playing small.
  2. There is at least one small part of me that needs to be welcomed home for the first statement to no longer be true.

The part(s) of me that play small does not magically disappear when I get to the point where I am fully connected to myself and am in my BIG place. In order to be fully connected to myself this part(s) of me has to be there, without her I am missing a piece of myself and remain in disconnection.

This is tricky.

This part(s) is small. She does not understand what being BIG is. Moreover, because she is small and being small is her whole job, being BIG feels scary.

Being BIG, truth speaking, loving myself without shame, holding myself sacred and worthy, allowing everyone else to hold themselves.. That was not allowed in the place she came from. Doing these things meant intense rejection, it meant not belonging, it was wrong and bad and forbidden.

BIG feels scary.

She is the part that shows up and whispers warnings in my ear about the danger of my mission to be BIG.

Pssstt.. Be careful.. You will only get hurt.

I hear you little one. I see you. I know you are scared.

Please know that my lap is open to you when you are ready to be held.

Until then please hear me, we are going to be okay. I love you. I am your belonging. I will not abandon you. You will always belong here.

You will always belong here.

I am home. I am safety. I am belonging. I am love. We no longer have to look outside for these things – they are here.

Please know that the door is open, my lap is open, I welcome you home when you are ready to be held in love.

I Encourage You to Write – Repurposed

This post was originally published February 2017 in my former writing space. I am bringing it home to Adding to Nine because this is where it is meant to live.

This post was born when I was a mentor and working as a therapist to teenagers at a youth shelter. It is my two pieces of advice for anyone wanting to heal, especially those who want to hold space for other’s as they heal.

As I welcome this post home, I do so with my dear friend in mind. I am so glad you are writing and am HONORED you are sharing your truths with me. Don’t you dare stop writing, your fight matters.

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Something has come up a few times now as part of the mentor-mentee relationship, I am being asked for tips/advice on this or that as it pertains to healing/holding space for those who are healing. I realized I have two tips/pieces of advice that are universal no matter who I am speaking with.

  1. Start seeing a therapist
  2. If you don’t have the funds for therapy then start writing until you do and then keep writing once you do.

That is it folks. That is my sage wisdom about life and feeling fulfilled and whole.

The see a therapist part is important because you need to have one person in your life that has no other role in your life than to listen. To listen to it all. Anything you have that needs to be heard that is your person across the board.

This is coming from a woman who has a husband, soul friends, girl friends, trust worthy co-workers, mentors.. I have a lot of people in my life that are here to listen. It doesn’t matter. None of them can hold it all for me. Not even my husband.

And here is my truth about that: I would never want them to. Again, not even my husband.

My therapist is my person that helps me with my relationship with myself so I can learn to listen to myself and be the one person responsible for holding all of my stuff. My truth is that if there is any aspect of myself that I am asking someone else to hold because I don’t want to then I am doing it wrong.

There is nothing that my husband, or friends, or family, or co-workers, or mentors can do to make me feel better about something if I am not first willing to hold it for myself and help myself feel better about it.

So I say again: Tip #1: Get a therapist.

Tip #2 is of equal importance. Start writing.

I realize there are a lot of reasons/excuses that are out there for why you aren’t doing this.

I am not a good writer. My grammar isn’t great. I don’t have time. I don’t have a computer. I don’t want anyone to read it and judge me. I don’t know what to write about.

Keep making that list folks. Write down all your reasons/excuses so every piece of you that is fighting against writing has been heard and then START WRITING.

Start writing right now. Don’t even feel pressure to finish reading what I am writing. You have my full blessing to close the window to my blog right now. Just start writing.

Write about whatever you want. Start making lists. The first list can be that list of reasons you don’t want to write. Make your grocery list. Make a list each morning of who you want to be today. Make a list of your heroes and what draws you to them. Write anything just write. Write everyday until you get to the point where going a day without writing feels like going a day without air.

This is how you get to know who you really are. You are not processing your thoughts and feelings with anyone but yourself. You don’t need anyone else’s opinion or input on your life, you only need to be with yourself. Write.

Write and learn who you are. Write to find yourself. Write to learn your own truth. Write to be heard. Write to heal. Write to get it out.

Writing gives you time to be alone and quiet so you can hear your own inner wisdom about your life.

It does not matter how you start. Write on napkins. Write on whatever is next to you, as long as it is not living because that would be problematic. Just write.

If you do only one thing today I encourage you to write.