When I was a little girl I used to see and feel so much magic in the world around me. As I grew older, my whimsical heart remained, but much of the magic faded. Realities of the world’s cruelty started to really hit me about the age of 9. I went through much at a young age and I did my best to keep my eyes wide open so I could learn how to protect myself. I learned my best course of action as a youth was to observe the adults in my life and, for the most part, do the exact opposite of the example they showed me. As much as I tried though, I didn’t have the control over my life I wanted or even thought I had. I remember always thinking to myself how I was a walking contradiction - I was always very brave and courageous but, I was also constantly ruled by fear.
What are those two definitions of fear again?
Face Everything And Rise - Forget Everything And Run
I felt as if I was both at all times which left me feeling unstable, weak and vulnerable. After the traumatic events of my 9th year, I noticed those around me saw me as a victim. They saw me and treated me like I would easily break. To their credit, sometimes I felt like breaking and I didn’t always mind being taken care of - it relieved some of my stress. As I grew older though, what I desired the most was to have the ability to take care of and save myself because when I was 9, the only person there to save me was myself and of course, I couldn’t. Looking back I realize I had a constant need to prove to myself and others of how capable and brave I was. It’s been 30 years and if I’m being honest I think I still have that need, but it feels a little different now…
Going back to fear, it ruled all my choices and when I had those moments of bravery I jumped in with both feet before anyone could dissuade me.
As I write this and am sporadically analyzing my childhood I realize I was ruled by fear because my Mother was very fearful. If you knew anything about her childhood though, it all makes sense. I have been angry with her for a great many things throughout my lifetime, but as a dear friend once told me: "There is no such thing as a perfect parent."
Because we are flawed, we can’t get away from messing up our kids somehow. There isn't a manual to parenthood, all we can do is our best.
My mom has been a mother since she was about 8 or 9. She raised and took care of her siblings and went through horrors that I don’t like to really think about. Through all her faults, she did her best and while some of the choices she made hurt me deeply. In hindsight, had she known how deeply, I know without a doubt she never would have made those choices. I understand her so much better at this moment than I have all these past years and forgive her for everything. One thing I know for certain, it’s that my Mother loves me with all her heart and that’s all that really matters.
How did I get away from fear and take control of my life? I’m sorry to say I haven’t quite done that yet. I can say I’ve come an exceedingly long way from where I started and I’m very proud of that. So where did I start? I want to say I started by learning how to love myself, but really that was step two. Step one was reclaiming my spiritual identity. As I said, when I was young I saw and felt magic all around me. I grew up Mormon and through that identity I constantly felt held back, like I wanted nothing more than to soar high above, but the constraints of Christianity held me in a cage. I was unable to grasp the magic that wanted to envelope me within it’s warm loving arms.
I stopped going to church years before I decided to request my records be removed. I always take forever to make decisions because I’m constantly fearful of making the wrong one, *Insert eyeroll* yeah, I know, old habits and all that… When I finally made the choice to move forward with my decision, I quickly took the steps needed to be released from the church. I remember I hadn’t yet received my letter of confirmation, but I will never forget the exact moment I felt the removal of my records. I was released from my baptism when I was 8 and my sealing ceremony when I got married in the Temple at 21. They were both very real and binding rituals. I don’t care what you believe in, a ritual is a ritual and faith is faith. You can call it whatever you like, but when you boil it down, it’s all magic. All. Of. It.
So there you have it, my step one: I reclaimed my spiritual identity. Whatever that means to you, reclaim it. I would like to point out that just because Christianity wasn’t the thing for me doesn’t mean it isn’t your path. We all have different paths to take and only you can know which path is right for you. I cannot stress enough how important it is to make that decision for yourself and not allow anyone to persuade you in any direction. The people in our lives try to tell us which path to take because they think they know what’s best, what’s safe, or what will enrich your life most and I’m sure the majority of them mean well, but what’s that saying about the pathway to hell and good intentions? This is your life and there will be a certain moment you’ll know when it’s finally time to take control and that will look different for everyone. There’s nothing wrong with accepting advice from those who love you, but the final decision must always be yours. Light, comfort and love to you as you start your journey.
P.S. The magic I used to see all around me as a little girl has returned and it’s been such a blessing. I’m so very grateful.
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