Sometimes by embracing things we can reframe them in a different way. These are my thoughts and feelings from my heart that I share with you. Take from it what you so choose…
Why I would rather be broken than bent.
If if I were to be bent that would insinuate that somehow I was only one thing and that thing or object could be bent. A steel rod, a piece of wood, something that is straight and linear. When you bend and eventually bounce back. there is usually a point of weakness somewhere in the object. Unless it’s springy material. At a low point in my life a very good friend told me that when you are broken you can take those pieces and put then back together anyway you want. I didn’t have to be a teapot or a cup, I could be a beautiful mantle piece or a plate (hypothetically) By being broken, I can create cycles. I can rebuild myself in any way I so choose and I can leave behind the parts that no longer serve me. A broken piece of glass or mirror refracts beautiful light. What does something bent refract. I would rather be broken and shattered into a million pieces and rebuild myself self than bend and be somewhat conformable. I was made to begin each day anew, so from the broken pieces I reframe and rebuild to be better and stronger. When I am broken I can analyze which pieces don’t fit back into the existence that I am choosing to manifest. Which means that I can break myself at any moment take pieces away and rebuild as something better. Just like death brings rebirth, brokenness brings beauty. 🙏
“I’ll huff and I’ll puff and I’ll blow those walls down because I want what you have.”
“I will take your power your innocence and leave you feeling a living dead girl broken and not able to see your own light.”
At a very young age I had my “NO” taken away and learned you need it to hide your true self. Put on a smile, do what you’re told, suck it up, be a good girl, and big girls don’t cry.
I was born into a family where most could not see my gifts and forced me to suppress them and those that saw my specialness decided to greedily take a piece of it for themselves.
Not able to verbalize what was going on or chastitized for telling the truth, I built a wall of straw because I knew I needed protection. This wall was to protect me from my family because although they were supposed to protect me they failed to do so as they had their own issues add their own issues. Alcoholism, abandonment, and abuse left me with an insecure attachment and not knowing what love or acceptance looked like. I did not know where I fit in or where I belonged. I knew I was a part of my family, I looked like them, talked like them, liked what they liked, but I did not feel like one of them.
Those walls broke down easily and at school and in the community, I learned you needed stronger walls. So, I built walls of sticks and wood. Teachers can be cruel. They have their favorites and succeeding doesn’t get you anywhere if someone has slapped a label on you.
Difficult, hard to handle, too emotional, not a good role model, and not good enough to be Valedictorian despite straight A’s.
It was better to judge me or call me names and degrade me then find out what was really going on with me or show some interest in my life or well being.
A desire to be a part of something beggar, to see the world, to be of service to humanity, and a thirst for knowledge led me to join the Canadian Armed Forces. A quest to hopefully get educated enough to become a doctor.
I built walls of brick in attempt to be Bad-Ass, tough and able to take on anything. I wanted to be the best me possible and be all I could be. A defender, a protector, a leader, and a helper. Children that don’t feel wanted, grow up and often go into professions where they feel needed.
Well in the military they know how to blow things up and friendly fire on domestic territory left me and my walls of bricks shattered into a million pieces and a desire for safety and security that led me to run for a safe room.
Betrayed, abandoned, rejected yet again and conditioned to believe I was a bad person, that things were my fault, and I was a failure I then locked myself in a safe room metaphorically where the only way anyone could get near me was if I invited them in. Letting people into my safe room was not a successful way to move forward. Those I invited in brought their trauma, issues and conditioning into my safe room with them making the environment toxic, negative and full of bitterness and ungratefulness.
I wanted better. I wanted to move forward and go from surviving to thriving. I began to understand my vulnerability was my strength. My adversity had made me resilient and able to overcome any obstacle. When I started to tear down my walls and be true to myself, I started to accept myself and love myself.
I found a way to leave the safe room and face the Big Bad World. By conquering fears, wanting change and more for myself I was able to transform my hurt to lessons. By challenging myself to be comfortable with being uncomfortable I can transmute the darkness to light. I can finally step into my power by taking control of my feelings, my actions, my behaviors, and by being accountable to myself. I fall down a lot without the security of 4 walls protecting me but they only kept me in a Box where I could not see my true potential. I could only see shadows and glimpses of what could be. I was looking through the window of my safe room watching the Big Bad World but not participating.
I feel so I can deal than I can heal. I left the safe room and I’m finally free to be the real me.
I was a caterpillar, crawling through life; when I found a beautiful plant and spun my cocoon. As I metamorphasisized and grew my wings, I thought about how grateful I was, for the hibernation. For I had only experienced life from one perspective. When my wings had grown, The struggle began as I broke free from the confines of my cocoon. I thought of how the fight and the change; no matter how hard it was, no matter how much it hurt, no matter how much pain it caused, was going to be worth it. I was no longer going to see the world just from the ground. When the time finally came and I spread my wings, I could fly. Bright, bold and rainbow I used my wings to fly high. I let the wind blow me around. I was happy. I needed to learn, and then when I established control, I could see from above and I could fly down below and I could sit on a plant like before. I could see the world from 2 different perspectives, and it allowed me to be free. The watcher and the experiencer. The best of both worlds. Once I could fly, I never once looked back on the struggle in the cocoon. I had a whole new way to look at everything.
This is me and my brother Andy. His birthday is 8 days before mine and we are what is known as Irish twins. Born within a year of each other. Now the reason I am posting this is because I see a serious flaw I would like to point out. My brother has his dukes up. He was taught that, to be a little fighter and believe me, him and I got into some pretty crazy battles so I learned quick. When we were young my Dad would put the boxing gloves on us and then we would fight. When I started to win it was game over. Couldn’t have the girl beating up the boy. Then Andy got taught he should be a lover not a fighter… Yah well this isn’t about him so we can stop right there. I got to sit in the background as the girl and hear all these things but I was expected to put on the dress and act differently. It’s un-ladylike to want to fight, it’s not very girly-girl to act that way. So from the start there was a double standard I have had to fight. I have fought so hard to get where I am. I have fought to expose the truth, I have fought to find myself and I have fought for the rights of others to be treated fairly. I have fought for love, love that wasn’t even worth fighting for because fighting was what I knew. I had to fight myself to finally love myself. I am the black sheep of the family for doing what is right because it’s the right thing to do and it’s OK. I cannot fit into a World I was not meant to fit into. I was taught to be passive, submissive, unasserting, non-resistant, docile. meek, non-aggressive and afraid while my brother got taught right from the start to be dominant and aggressive. Had I not had my Brother I would not have learned how to be a fighter. I also thought that as a girl watching Disney someone was going to rescue me but nope, had to do that myself as well. I am learning that while I still need to stand up for myself, it is OK to not fight the battle, just let it go as well. Feel the pain, surrender to it and deal. It’s not pretty but the other side sure is…. The other side of the pain, when you realize how beautiful and worthwhile you are, what your value is and the only person you need to impress is yourself.
Same shit, Different day Living the dream Chasing the dragon. But one day You realize It’s not your dream You don’t even know who you are. The mirror reflects A stranger Full of guilt and shame For not knowing better You realize The dragon you have been chasing Lives within and feeds on knowledge. You hit the floor Thinking of all the loss, The pain, The suffering. Yours and all that you have caused. You know there is a better way You want change, yet That change scares the fuck out of you And you hit rock bottom The place where all the walls Have come crashing down. All the barriers All the things that didn’t work All the lessons. Look around at rock bottom. Take the best memories out of those rocks, Leave all the irrelevant shit And Rebuild. The way you choose They way you always wanted And be true to you Be magnificent Be the you, You wanted to be Before life got in the way. It’s never to late to discover Who you truly are.