Ending my Seven Year Cycle
7 years ago. 2012. The caption under this somber photo says:
We were moving. Evicted from our apartment. The kids and I moving to my parents house. Their dad. Elsewhere.
To this day. Not a single conversation to discuss what happened in the marriage. It just faded away. Like the elderly and death.
The boys were little. We were fumbling to find our footing. I was going to post their photos from 7 years ago but this photo.
This photo is haunting to me.
In 7 years I have had...so much joy and delight in watching my kids grow and blossom. I am the custodial parent so I got to witness a lot of firsts. The lock in memory kind of firsts. I wanted stability, safety, consistency for them. I wanted to BE with them. And that is what happened. Our souls are bonded to one another. We know what we know from the heart and soul of each of us. There were sad times and sick times and scary times. All in this house. But here we are. Together.
In 7 years I have experienced...so much pain. Deeply growing through things. Rediscovering me as a woman. A single mother. An ex-shop owner. Friends here and then gone. Loves. The loves that escalated to a high and then ashes. Me licking my wounds. The most painful were these. The most grief and sadness and rage, were these. All of this. Going on all at once. Mother duties. Trauma healing. The work. I am good, I am down. You give me another lesson, another growth opportunity and I will...
Who am I.
Where have I come from.
Where am I going.
I happened to find a journal entry from a year ago. To the day. There was something going on then. Tender and beautiful and painful things. And then...an entry how I had found a journal from the 80's. I read the words and felt the cascade of every emotion I held close to as a teen. I saw some sentences that stood out. I had to read them several times.
It jarred me.
The patterns have been on repeat. All the way through. The ways I acted and reacted. In relationships. The way I was in these relationships. The words and stories I told. They said everything. That our conditioning starts early. How we see and learn from our primary caregivers. Relationships. This. Then the trauma and the wiring.
I get it.
It's written in blood.
My journals are proof.
I had to keep getting these lessons over and over again until I saw through the blood in both eyes.
I felt I deserved less than.
I felt that scraps were enough.
I felt that to love is hard and chaotic.
I felt that I was unlovable and that I had to prove, prove, prove myself.
I felt. That. Love. From. Them. Was. Everything.
7 years ago.
I did hard things yesterday.
Today I lay in meditation feeling the power of yesterday. The sorrow of today. The angst of the last 7 years. In my soul. It is in that space.
I broke a paradigm. I had shifted the Universe of my small family, my ancestral bowing down and just taking it. That indigenous stance, with head down, not causing commotion.
No more. I had to say it. The big words that scratched my tongue as I spoke. The truth of why and where it hurts and because you. I had to spin every love story to the other side of truth and say...
This isn't going to be this way anymore.
This 7 year cycle is done.
I don't have to prove.
I don't have to work.
I don't have to accept scraps.
This 7 next year cycle looks and feels like this.
I become this.
And so it shall be. Goodbye 7 years ago until now.
Your time is up.