Time to Release

 I’ve probably carried sorrow in my gut since I was a young girl.

But what was the sorrow?

Perhaps it was the sorrow of a child who wanted nothing more than to please her family.

A little girl who wanted to be loved.

To feel safe.

To know she was okay.

But instead of kind words, she heard words that felt threatening.

Words that shook her sense of safety to her core.

Maybe that little girl learned to carry her sorrow quietly.

And perhaps it’s time to tell her:

You don’t have to carry it anymore.

It was never yours to carry.

Maybe now, with love and compassion, we can begin to let it go.

Worthiness

 It’s becoming clearer and clearer to me how the messages of guilt, shame, and blame may have shaped the way I’ve seen myself, my body, and what I feel I deserve.

I’ve done tons of work on myself.

And can honestly say that I love myself today.

But I also can feel that there is still a part of me holding tightly to the pain.

My little girl is deeply afraid of going against what my parents believed.

To her, their beliefs were the truth.

And letting go of them can feel frightening—almost like she is doing something wrong.

But there is a woman here now who knows something that little girl could never have known.

Much of what was projected onto me came from my parents—their own pain, shame, and beliefs about themselves.

I was a child.

I absorbed their messages as truth.

Now it is my turn to gently help that little girl see that she has a choice.

She can still let go of beliefs that were never hers to carry.

I will love her through that fear.

I will support her.

And little by little, we can discover what she believes about herself when she is no longer living by someone else’s rules.

Am I Still Carrying Old Guilt?

 Even though I’ve done an honest inventory on myself several times, that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ve completely let go of every mistake I’ve made.

I’ve spent years learning to forgive myself and others.

And yet, I find myself wondering:

Have I completely forgiven myself?

I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, especially when I was younger.

Poor choices that hurt me.

And choices that hurt other people.

As I live with this pain in my body, I sometimes wonder what it might be inviting me to look at.

Is there something I’m still holding onto unconsciously?

To be honest, I’ve turned over a lot of stones.

I’ve been willing to look at everything.

But perhaps there is still a part of me holding on.

I don’t need to know exactly what it is.

Maybe I can simply be willing to let go of whatever guilt, shame, or regret I may still be carrying.

Not because I was perfect.

But because I’ve spent enough years punishing myself for being human.

Perhaps it’s time to put the past down.

And let myself be free to move forward.

New Beginnings

 It seems I’m moving back in a direction I haven’t been in for about fifty-five years.

I recently colored my hair back to its original color.

I had been blonde since I was fourteen.

But not anymore.

And somehow, it feels symbolic.

There have been other changes, too.

My weight has fluctuated quite a bit. I lost thirty pounds while eating a very restrictive diet because of my bladder issues. Before that, I had reached a size I had never been before.

But today, I stepped on the scale and realized I’m back to the weight that was once my original weight.

I find myself wondering about all of this.

Maybe this isn’t about going backward.

Maybe it’s about coming back to something more natural.

Something simpler.

Something that feels more like me.

I don’t know exactly what this new beginning will look like.

But I’m curious about the woman who is emerging.

And for the first time in a long time, I’m not trying to make her into anything.

I’m just watching her become.

When I look in the mirror, I see my authentic self. 

Probably the person I was trying to get away from for many years, but now it feels like home.

Saying Goodbye to the Past

 After spending more than thirty years examining my life, including my childhood, I think it’s time to gently close the door.

I have looked at so much.

I have given love and attention to the places that needed it.

There may not be anything more I need to seek.

Perhaps the seeker in me is retiring.

Not because there is nothing left to learn, but because I no longer feel the need to keep searching for something that will explain everything or make everything better.

My attention is shifting from the past to the present.

Learning to notice what is here, receive what is here, and let today be enough.

I can honor the past without continuing to live there.

I can love the little girl without needing to keep searching for all the answers.

And perhaps I can simply turn toward what is in front of me.

Not knowing exactly what comes next.

Just being willing to meet it when it arrives.

A Deeper Invitation

 I wonder if the deeper invitation is not about the little girl at all. It may be about the woman I am now.

Looking at everything, I see several possibilities:

1. To learn that pain doesn’t have to determine the size of my life

I’ve spent a lot of time trying to understand, manage, prevent, and accommodate pain. Some of that has been necessary. But perhaps the next lesson is:

Can I have pain without organizing my entire life around it?

Not ignoring it. Not pretending it isn’t there. But refusing to let it become the authority over what I do, where I go…

2. To release the belief that I have to figure everything 

I’ve searched. I’ve researched. I’ve asked doctors. I’ve looked for explanations. 

I’m someone who naturally wants to understand.

Maybe the invitation isn’t “Find the answer.”

Maybe it’s:

“Can I live peacefully without knowing the answer?”

That’s a very different kind of surrender.

3. To learn the difference between listening to my body and obeying my body

This may be one of the biggest lessons.

I’ve become extraordinarily attentive to my body. But sometimes listening can quietly turn into monitoring.

The nervous system can become even more focused on the threat.

4. To discover that I don’t have to earn rest

This one feels connected to childhood.

The good little girl learned to obey, perform, anticipate, help, and be productive.

5. And perhaps the deepest one: to stop making healing another thing I have to accomplish

I’ve worked incredibly hard on myself.

Recovery. Inner-child work. Spiritual work. Understanding trauma. Understanding neuroplasticity. Letting go. Surrender.

And perhaps even healing can become another form of striving.

Maybe the invitation is:

What if nothing needs to be accomplished right now?