Dear Mom and Dad,

Thank you for falling in love and giving me life.  Thank you for trusting in me to break the patterns and generational trauma.  Thank you for believing in me.  Thank you both for playing the roles you did in my life. Thank you for loving me and protecting me as best as you knew how.  Thank you for having the best intentions. Thank you for making the decisions you did which has shaped the person I am today.

September 26, 1984, is my birthday and consequently a significant day in my journey to healing as well. I was the first-born child and am the oldest of two daughters.  My mom has described her pregnancy with me as pretty routine other than constant nausea and a strange craving for Tony’s Frozen Pizza. I arrived on time with no complications. Once things calmed down, the Doctor spoke with my parents to let them know that my feet turned in quite a bit and that they could cause me some walking issues along with joint issues growing up.  The Doctor then suggested that my legs be casted in order to hopefully correct the issue.  My Mom and Dad consented to the procedure and although both of them knew I would be okay, they described the experience as terrifying for them.  It was a separation that no one expected.

I was just two days old and when it was time to go back, the nurses took me from my Mom and led me into a cold and bright room.  Unsure of what would happen to me next. I imagine I felt alone and scared. Crying out didn’t bring me any closer to my parents nor did it stop the procedure from happening.  This would have been the first time in my life that I learned that I could only rely on myself.  It was the first time that my body endured trauma at the hands of another and without my free-will and consent. Once both of my legs were casted, I was back into my parents’ loving arms and one would think that the imprint of that experience would fade away.  Actually, I thought that as well.  I told the story and shared the pictures never really giving it much thought all throughout my life. 

I have always perceived myself as the “lone wolf,” “strong,” and “resilient.”  I have learned that all of those things are true but ultimately a version of myself that I created to keep me safe.  I could rely on myself; I could trust only myself. One evening and hours of coaching calls leading up to an awareness, I participated in a ceremony of substance with some very close friends of mine.  That night unfolded beautifully and with many downloads, but the one that took focal point was within the hours that I spent alone, and it was the vision I had of my parents.  I saw them a little younger than now and I was in total darkness. When I looked ahead, I saw a thick white line and my parents standing on the other side. The color of my hands matched the line like I had painted it… and I did. I created that line that they could never cross.  I wouldn’t let them. It was evident from that point forward that my pattern was that I could love others, but at an arm’s length.  Not enough to hurt me. The fear of being hurt, the fear of being abandoned. A wall around my heart that I created to keep me safe. A wall that disconnected me from the two people I loved most. 

I went through a process of asking why and when.  I noticed some pain in my knees, legs and feet over the next few days.  It was evident that my body was trying to talk to me. It wasn’t until I got quiet and surrendered to the pain.  I let the tears fall and the photo of me in casts came to my mind.  My birth story re-surfaced.  In that moment, I realized that what I felt at two days old was abandonment from my parents.  Their intentions were to help me and I realize they were pure, but I created a story that those who love me will abandon me. 

I created the life of a lone wolf, a warrior in my own deep pain that I carried with me always. I was living my life wounded and in fear of abandonment. I learned that this was no longer serving me and in fact was keeping me closed off in my relationships and most importantly, myself.  As I looked to deconstruct this belief, I’ll admit that this blind spot felt like a death to me. It felt like everything I knew, everything I built and my entire identity was stripped away from me. I grieved, I cried, I got angry and that process taught me how to feel again. It also helped me to learn to walk beside that version of me as she kept me safe for so long.  It also made room for me to love and see my parents differently.  I started to let them love me however they felt.  I stopped judging their love for me and accepted it into my heart. I felt gratitude for them and empathy.  Knowing that they too were doing the best they could.  Living in this state and cutting the cord of abandonment that I unknowingly held against them for years has been freeing to my soul. Accepting what is and creating a different story in love. This freedom feels so damn good.