Lately I have been realizing how I have let the stories I hold about specific instances or times in my life control... and even create…me.
These occurrences may have been only one time... or they may have been many times...
But it was in my child's mind, played over and over and over...
In my hurt and lonely teenage mind, played over and over and over...
Even in my broken-hearted adult mind, played over and over and over.
It was the feelings from those moments that stuck. Stuck and then grew in such a profound way that they became my identity.
I was unloved, unlovable, alone, broken, scarred, forgotten, damaged...
Because these stories told me I was.
And once I started seeing the stories, I turned my feelings around to the judgement and outrage.
How dare they treat me this way! They are horrible for doing such things! What is wrong with them!?
And the anger grew...
But wait...
Aren't these stories still just the child's memory, the wounded girl, the FEELINGS?
I do not know the motives behind the actions.
I do not know the feelings behind the actions.
I do not even know if these things really happened as I remember them.
All this time... it was the feelings.
So what do I do with this information?
I am trying to accept... without judgement.
I am learning to unravel and feel... without judgement.
I am forgiving, myself... and them.
I am clearing.
I am opening.
I am healing.
These occurrences may have been only one time... or they may have been many times...
But it was in my child's mind, played over and over and over...
In my hurt and lonely teenage mind, played over and over and over...
Even in my broken-hearted adult mind, played over and over and over.
It was the feelings from those moments that stuck. Stuck and then grew in such a profound way that they became my identity.
I was unloved, unlovable, alone, broken, scarred, forgotten, damaged...
Because these stories told me I was.
And once I started seeing the stories, I turned my feelings around to the judgement and outrage.
How dare they treat me this way! They are horrible for doing such things! What is wrong with them!?
And the anger grew...
But wait...
Aren't these stories still just the child's memory, the wounded girl, the FEELINGS?
I do not know the motives behind the actions.
I do not know the feelings behind the actions.
I do not even know if these things really happened as I remember them.
All this time... it was the feelings.
So what do I do with this information?
I am trying to accept... without judgement.
I am learning to unravel and feel... without judgement.
I am forgiving, myself... and them.
I am clearing.
I am opening.
I am healing.