I spent much of my childhood years afraid of the dark. And who could really blame me? Consumed by all of the spooky things that our minds tell us to lurk in the shadows…
This fear of the dark permeated my life so deeply that as I grew up I began to just as passionately avoid peering into the shadowed parts of myself, for fear of the demons that might be revealed. Instead, I focused on keeping shut the gloomy closet in my mind where I’d hidden away all the memories of my trauma; this closet that kept me up at night with the banging and rattling that came from within. I piled the debris of past sunsets and old love letters and anything else I could find in front of these doors that sought so desperately to be opened.
But the darkness did not leave me. Although this closet was hidden away, kept tightly closed under lock and key, its darkness slipped through cracks, stretched out its reaching limbs, and seeped its way into my thoughts, behaviors, and patterns. It was only after years of spiritual practice that I was able to build up the courage to break down those rusty mental locks and bust open the doors that loomed so heavily in the recesses of my mind.
But to my surprise, when I opened the door I was not met with the vicious demons of my imagination. Instead, I found the ghost of a girl who looked just like me. I sat with her for a while, this girl, and I listened as she explained to me with aching words that when I shut away my trauma I locked her away too. These parts of me that were once allowed to be vulnerable, curious, playful, or even joyful…I’d been holding prisoner all this time. And this ghost of a girl, the girl I once was, she lived there in this cage I’d built her. She spent years rattling the bars, moaning into the night, begging and pleading for me to let her out. To see her. To hold her. To acknowledge her existence. And because I had been too afraid to face what had happened to her, I left her behind to pick up the pieces when she was the one still picking shards of glass out of her already battered flesh.
It was at this point that I met myself. I mean, truly met myself. Only after years of begging God to fix me did I realize that was not His responsibility. It was God who introduced me to the depths of myself, who walked with me through the darkness, who gave me the strength to rise to the challenge. Because you can only meet God as deeply as you are willing to meet yourself. The deeper you withdraw into facing yourself, the deeper you are able to connect to Spirit by drawing nearer and nearer to the God frequency that lives within us; that which gives us love, light, and breath.
It was at this time that I realized my spirituality was not my healing. It was, however, my spirituality which gave me the wisdom and the strength to do the work that leads to healing. But before I got to this point I had to ask myself when I was going to stop repeating the same self-sabotaging cycles. I had to break myself free from the chains of my past, the part of me that resurrected old traumas and made them new. I had to face the girl that stares back at me in the mirror and ask her when enough would be enough.
And while I am not responsible for the ways I’ve been harmed or the trauma that was inflicted upon me, it is my responsibility to give myself permission to move forward into a space of healing. It was my responsibility to release myself from my trauma; to no longer give it so much power as to be a part of my identity. And with this realization, it was time to shed the tired and worn out skin of my victim complex.
For too long I had been addicted to my pain, and the excuses it brought me to not do the inner work. The inner work I speak of, the shadow work, does not seek to prevent us from ever again having to endure pain or experience trauma, but rather it teaches us to face such experiences with faith. A true faith, not a “seeking” faith; seeking to achieve heaven or evade hell. But a true faith that fills me with an internal knowing that everything I experience is either coming to me as a blessing or a lesson. I now humbly honor the experience of both.
I hold space for my younger self, the ghost of the girl I once was, and all of the pain she endured. I also acknowledge the fact that she spent so much of her time praying and waiting for someone else to save her without having realized that all the saving that ever needed to be done could be found within the self.
Today I release my subscription to the word “victim.” I no longer give my abusers the power of identifying myself with the manifestations of the demons they carried which were thrust upon me. I shed the harmful and abusive behaviors I’d learned as survival tactics. Who I am at the core of my being is so much more than the pain I’ve carried at the hands of someone else. I’d rather live free.
My light is sacred, as well as my darkness. I hold space for and honor the duality of my being.
Sit with a microdose of your preferred Earth Medicine (🍄 or 🍃 for me).
Take a hot bath; you can adorn your bath with salts, soaps, herbs, essential oils, etc. Set your intentions with each of these medicines by naming what you want to cleanse and release.
Turn on some healing frequencies; you can look these up for free on YouTube (i.e. Binaural Beats).
Soak in the hot bath and allow your body to absorb the steam and its medicine. Sit with Source and set your intentions. Name what you would like clarity on. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.
Set up the voice recorder on your phone. As you sit with yourself and with Source, allow yourself to speak the thoughts that come to mind. Have a conversation with the universe. Don’t filter it, just let it flow.
Allow for release. Cry. Laugh. Sweat. Touch your body. Play. Allow your body to release in whatever way it needs to. Hold her while she expels all that no longer serves.
Ground yourself in gratitude; end in prayer. Thank Source for both the blessings and the lessons.
Later, or when you feel called to, listen to the voice recording and write. Write notes, reflections, questions…whatever comes up for you. Identify what you learned. Identify where you may still need to grow. Honor the growth you’ve done.
@afrodisiac.jpg / @afrodisiac.arts