Showing posts with label betrayal. Show all posts
Showing posts with label betrayal. Show all posts

Sunday, April 19, 2015

on safety, strength, loving and being loved.



I have never in my life felt completely safe with those I loved, with those who loved me.  I have felt that longing, that lacking, for as long as I can remember.  I had not been able to put a word to that feeling until I went to see Monika Lonely Coyote for shamanic healing this past summer.  When she was working on my heart, she gave the word “safe” to the thing I have needed and never had. 

I have been revisiting that need recently.  I have begun working with the Lady Freyja-Vanadis, the Vanir Goddess of Love, Sexuality, War and Death.  It seems that the Lady wishes me to revisit ALL of the memories that I have willfully forgotten in order to resolve them.  The moments when someone whom I loved, someone who loved me, valued someone or something more than they valued me.  The betrayals that I have chosen to forget in order to avoid the conflict of feeling betrayed.  My version of loyalty and unconditional love. 

I have always known that each person I loved, who loved me, valued something or someone more, would always choose that thing or that person before me, that I would always be second to whatever, or whoever that was.  And I have not been wrong. 

The thing about never feeling safe in that way is that, while you can choose to love someone knowing that to be true, trusting them becomes a choice to accept that you will never feel safe.  You will always have to love them from strength that you can never put down.  And that strength becomes very thin, and very heavy, all at the same time. 

The insecurity of that place eventually wears down the strength that you have until you either stop loving and close off or, you become dependent and incapable of loving, only of needing.

The Lady does not seem to find either of those options acceptable, and so I must learn to Love from a place of Trust and Strength, and that requires that I must learn to feel safe.  And so we are revisiting all of the moments that have taught me that I am not safe, in order to resolve them, and to try to learn how to let go of them somehow. 

I have recently come to know …and love…someone who is a catalyst for me in this work.  This person has challenged my belief that I cannot ever feel safe in another’s love.  Like me, this person has other lovers, and like me, they do not struggle with jealousy, but they have shown me love in a way that I have never experienced before.  They protect and care for me in moments of weakness and vulnerability, they accept me and love me unconditionally, they have shown me their loyalty and that they value me.  And they have accepted my care and protection, my loyalty and love, my support and respect.  They have shown me what it is to feel safe.

In that place of Safety, Trust is real, and Strength is real.  Because I can feel safe I can truly feel strong and I can truly love others, for Loving others comes from Strength, from the place of knowing that I can serve them, that because of my ability to trust, and to feel safe, I can return to a place of strength and do what needs to be done, to provide what strength, safety, support and loyalty is needed.   I can put the needs of those I love before my own because, my own needs are met, and I am safe.

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Stolen children

I remember a recurring night-terror that I had as a child of about seven.  I would dream that a mad-scientist melted my parents and my brothers into buckets (a sideways version of the witch in the Wizard of Oz) and took them from me.  Children of that age typically experience night-terrors regarding loss of family and abandonment.  
  
I woke at two this morning from a dream and was able to recall at least the last moment of it.  In that moment, I accused my family of origin of stealing my children.  I have this dream occasionally.

This may sound like an exaggeration but, in reality it is not.  My children were taken from me by my parents and given to others to raise.  I was not allowed to know anything about them or their families.  They were lost to me completely, possibly forever.

My parents are good and loving people.  They truly love me and were doing what they honestly believed with their whole hearts was best for me and my future, and for my children and their futures.  They were absolutely sure, and they were wrong.

I have never given birth to another child.  I did get to meet each of my children when they reached eighteen years, and I am building relationships with them but, I will never have the kind of relationship with them that I wish for, that the mothers who raised them have (and for the record, both of my children were raised by wonderful and loving families.)  I am grateful for the chance to know them.  I thank my Gods and my ancestors for returning them to my life.  But I am a footnote in their lives, a welcome visitor but, a visitor nonetheless.

I have come to terms with my anger over my parents’ choices.  I have forgiven them, and myself for my own compliance with their decisions.  For the most part, I have learned to let go of “what might/should/would/could have been” because, if I do not, I cannot live in the present or the future. But my grief over what I have lost still visits me, and the pain of that betrayal by those who loved me, whom I trusted most, is evidently still an obstacle for me in trusting and in being loved.

It is not possible for anyone to take from me more than that which has already been taken, and yet, trusting that is a greater obstacle than I might have imagined it would be by now.  I want to learn how to overcome that obstacle, if indeed I can.