There is this part of me that wants to stomp my feet and wail my hands and have this big grown up tantrum at the unfairness of life. Because just as I feel I have conquered my past and reached a great place of happiness, contentment, and peace, just when I feel I have got this, this living my life fully, my past comes up and it grabs me! It invades my otherwise perfect moments. Forcing me to see that there is yet another layer to this healing. It feels like the ultimate injustice. Because not only did I not have a say in what was done to me, I now have it infiltrating into my present experiences. I want to fight and resist. I want to say, “no, not again,” and “why me?” I feel a sense of hopelessness, wondering if there is ever an end to it. I fall back into this familiar role of victim, and experience this place of powerlessness. Then, it is more of the same, and I feel stuck in a past that is continually recreated.

Except that, I refuse to accept this as my fate. I refuse to give anyone or anything that much power over me. I yearn for a sense of power over my own life. I want to live without these confines that were put upon me. I want to live my life on my own terms. And because, I have been doing this work for awhile, and I have been to these places before, I know that I must step into this pain to find real healing. I know I cannot get there by fighting, resisting, or denying this past that I did not choose. I know that I have to own it, and embrace it, and love it. This past chosen or not is part of me.

If I deny it, I am denying my very self. This is my story and every part of it has contributed to who I am today. If I cannot own my story, how can I own myself? How can I love myself? So, I choose to love myself in all the places that I have been unloved. I choose to love myself in those spaces where I have been hurt, abandoned, abused, and betrayed. And like the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold , so that each breakage becomes the beauty and history of the piece, the broken and shattered places of my soul will heal to become the strength and beauty of who I am. Every piece of my story comes together as a valuable piece of who I am.

 

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One thought on “Owning a Past I did not Choose

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