Once one begins to understand even a glimpse of what unconditional love truly is we’re then able to avail ourselves to the immensity of our beautiful and miraculous nature and what we’re here to do.
We’re here to grow—to learn, to break hearts and have our hearts broken.
We’re here to figure out why we were abused and why someone lashes out at us with so much animosity.
We’re here to forgive every last painful upset we’ll ever experience.
There’s no way I could possibly love the person (my last lover) who opened me up to feel so deeply (or more appropriately, to recognize and embrace my own feeling nature from the beginning) had she not also been so unkind, cruel and of whom eventually kicked me to the curb so that I might pick myself up—rising from the ashes of my own despair to become the human I am today.
Gold solders our fractured hearts—an emblem of what it means to be put back together yet still broken; adorning our unique imperfections while possessing the ability to be a vessel overflowing with love which emanates throughout all that exists.
Two former loves ago taught me that I was behaving like my parents believing that yelling and screaming matches were normal. She patiently stood by my side while I displayed my own dissatisfaction in the imperfections of relationships and my lack of understanding their dynamic nature.
Three loves past taught me the value of public humiliation when I chastised her in front of others for something that God knows really didn’t mean sh*t yet my own insecurities had to brazenly reflect outwardly my ignorance of how to treat another human (especially a woman) with respect.
I was publicly humiliated and verbally abused (mental abuse) from early childhood onward into my early twenties by my father.
This has all come back to bite me—karma lashing its vengeful yet atoning tongue at me as everything I’ve perpetrated has been paid back to me equally harsh or if the lesson remained unlearned, worse.
I’ve been the victim of narcissism and have played the role of narcissist. Just as I was verbally and mentally abused I’ve also been the verbal and mental accuser.
I was physically abused by my parents and so I turned around and physically abused my own younger sibling and got into fights at school.
There was a time in my life when I had lost friendships after a summer apart and felt alienated, disgraced and hurt beyond words so I began lashing out to my own mother —her kindness, sympathy and concern for my sudden mood swings were blocked by the stinging humiliation, embarrassment and abandonment I felt within.
You see, it’s all pain—it’s all love unifying or separating us eternally until we graduate from our own predicament. The only choice we have is to forgive, let go and heal—otherwise this age-old story will inevitably repeat itself.
I closed my heart off to feeling as a child because I was verbally punished if I did—I was expected to be stoic, not emotional.
No one defended my inherent sensitive nature and no one certainly knew what an empath was—my innocence stolen from a young age after my first traumatic experience of being choked while simultaneously lifted off the ground and pinned to a wall.
I can still vividly remember looking into my inflamed abuser’s eyes.
Not to rationalize but I wonder to this day how terribly he was punished throughout his childhood—of which he rarely speaks of and will likely take to his grave; lessons to overcome in his next life.
So I verbally punished others who were of a feeling nature and whom made me feel incredibly uncomfortable and unnatural for such exhibitions—a means of escaping the pain which so desperately sought refuge and expression in the light of day; transmutation and enlightenment.
My selfish and hateful words have cut through people and lacerated their hearts.
Feelings of revenge have swept over me—the many nights, days and moments when I was filled with rage and tears at the same time.
The only way through all of this is to grieve and to find space where we’re safe to express everything that’s churning within naturally—safe expression of who we truly are and who we’re not because all of these people and their torments have lived within us and always will whether we choose to give rise to their expression or not.
It’s the power we choose to give these expressions that determine whether we’ll persecute or celebrate ourselves and others.
So much of my bitter rage, anger, hostility and resentment no longer buried within me or my psyche (no longer owning me) because I’ve allowed it to give rise to its own deserving expression without harming another.
I’ve chosen not to re-live these experiences or make someone else pay for what I’ve gone through.
I adamantly refuse to repeat the vicious cycle. I’m consciously choosing to halt the wheel of karma.
I wish for peace in my heart and love for those who have hurt me the most.
I seek peace and forgiveness for myself having been the person who defiled someone’s good nature and graces with a tormented tongue.
This is the only way we can truly heal—the only way to own who we are and stand in our inherent strength; a ray of light for others to emulate.
Every tear I’ve shed has become one more liberating alchemical reaction leading to new-found peace of mind, a healing heart and emergent spirit to help cure the human predicament so I might again realize the inherent beauty that exists in every human.
It’s time to help and time to heal. Please, shed a tear for every moment you’ve been hurt because in doing so, we can finally grow—we can liberate ourselves from the depths of human suffering.
We can become more fully human again and remember why we’re here.