Day 7 - Tender Places
Lingering in the last few moments of a dream about frying chicken wings, I woke up to cramps. I sleepily shuffled to the bathroom to find as predicted, my moon was here. On the first day, I tend to find I have somewhat painful cramping which subsides after a few hours of rest and a heating pad. I started reading Goldmining the Shadows by Pixie Lighthorse last night only to find myself deep in it this morning. When I saw the splay of her books yesterday at the book signing this one called to me. I have Prayers of Honoring and Prayers of Honoring Voice, which have changed my life, but I was in such a rush to get out of the house that I forgot them both. So I purchased this one on an intuitive whim while actively questioning with some variant degrees of resistance to the content. My shadow has very much been alive and kicking recently with everything that’s been going on, and obviously, it just wants to stay hidden, not have me shine a spotlight on it. In my haggard state, I fumbled into the kitchen to make breakfast and fell back into the book. Next came floods of memories and many tears.
Revisiting my childhood is something I’ve done countless times. I’ve had many chats with my inner child and understand much of why I am the way I am due to circumstances that were beyond my control, but this morning the 7 yr old part of me was loud. When I was 7, my family moved back to England after ~4 years as expats in Texas. I was born in England and my family is all British. Moving back to England was hellish and wildly confusing for me. In Texas, I had been going to a Montessori school where I was encouraged to be myself and follow my interests in all ways imaginable. Being shoved into stuffy school uniforms at a tightly structured Catholic private school was the complete opposite of my childhood dreams. Everything I did seemed to be wrong or outlandish. I wasn’t trying to be a bad kid or to actively get into trouble, I was just doing what I thought was normal and acceptable based on the standards that had previously been set for me. As the eldest child of 3, I prided myself on doing things right, being responsible, and being good. So one might imagine how dysregulating it was for me to perpetually be wrong without understanding why. The school system was just the beginning. Making friends 1-on-1 seemed simple enough only to feel ostracized when I got into the smaller groups of friends. I couldn’t figure out how I always seemed to be the brunt of a joke. The trends on the playground were far beyond my understanding, and every time I tried to ask my parents for the latest gadget or toy, they’d dismiss me thinking I just wanted stuff. It was never about the stuff, what I wanted was to fit in and belong desperately. To further the disconnection, it would seem that as soon as I’d gotten my parents on board, the trend would change and I’d be left with some meaningless item and no step closer to feeling connection with my peers. My stay-at-home mom went from present and loving to teaching full-time, angry, fed-up, and constantly stretched thin. My sibling and I had 7 different nannies in the space of 2 ish years. Both of my grandpas became ill and I realized more today that whatever my parents may have been feeling emotionally was hidden from me as I don’t remember ever knowing they were sad.
In photos of these days, it looks like a dark heavy cloud is looming over my entire being. The only fond memories I have are of galavanting around our orchards, picking strawberries, and playing with the animals at local farms. Most of my life was turned upside down with absolutely no understanding of what to do or how to traverse this troubling terrain. I felt alone in my chaos, was unable to articulate why everything was different, and was suddenly wrong for everything I was doing so I began to isolate myself. I begged my parents to put a bed in the office so I didn’t have to share a room with my two younger siblings, which is where a deep pattern of hiding when things are hard and confusing began.
Sitting with the immensity this morning opened up a space for me to have a conversation with that scared and confused little girl in me. I could see her in my visual field so clearly. Her fear was visceral in my body. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I whispered sentences to help clarify and asked questions to understand her experience. Each moment brought waves of sensation to my body as I continued to place myself in her shoes while bringing my mature adult perspective. I stayed with her experience while illuminating new things to notice and rewrite. My body began releasing deep breaths, a somatic indicator of regulation. With each sentiment made, I’d wait to feel and would say whatever came next until I had nothing left. Silence embraced me and I just waited in the space. Acutely aware of the expansion and contraction of my lungs. Present to the texture of the air on my skin. My being suspended in the liminal.
After staying for quite some time, I gently released this process by honoring the conversation and shifts. Fatigue washed over me so I laid down to write this all out and support my integration. I’ll end here to rest, but am looking forward to seeing how the rest of my day unfolds. I get to facilitate Session 2 of my Circling Group tonight and I’m curious to see where leading from this soft, tender place takes us.
