In my previous post I was focused on Mother and today I feel a focus towards Father, realizing now that they are the male/female aspects within me trying to reconcile. It’s less about what my biological mother and father did or didn’t do in my life, and more about how I feel about those concepts within me.
I can’t change other people. I can’t change who my parents were or are. They have their own lives and journeys, their own hearts and passions, as well as their own pain and lessons to learn that have absolutely nothing to do with me.
Plus, while I’m blaming or focused on them for what I’m feeling inside (whether consciously or not), it only serves to leave me feeling powerless, you know? It then sets up unrealistic expectations in me to come up with the right words to explain to them how they affected me and then some sort of fantasy “oh my god, I had no idea, I’m so sorry!” revelation on their part and then you know, the fanfare reconciliation and we all live happily ever after.
Except that’s not likely to ever happen. So then what do I do with these feelings I have inside of me? What do I do with the imbalance and upset that, at least on the surface, seems to stem from my interactions while growing up with them?
It’s occurred to me that how I personally see my parents, plays a big part in how I see and treat the male/female in me. The male side barking orders, being demanding, scaring the living daylights out of me. But also being the side of me that is disciplined, hard working, and really strong when facing challenges in life.
My female side sacrifices herself and her feelings to the demanding male side of me. “Stop crying. Get over it. Move on.” So she gets left feeling neglected and unloved by the male side of me. But male side of me is just trying to make sure we survive and in that there’s no room or time for tears or anything girly. But without my female side, there is no softness, love, or joy in my life. Just relentless responsibility and nothing to look forward to or making life worth all the grief.
Are these echoes of my parents? To some degree, I think yes. But I am starting to suspect that it’s more to do with how I experienced them and what makes up me as an individual, than it does about how they actually were. At least in how it relates and matters to my own personal healing. There were legitimate, not okay things that took place in my childhood. I’m not excusing that, but right now healing is more important to me than blaming. It’s long since happened and it’s just time to move on, you know?
As mentioned in my previous post, when I was younger, I had a type of surrogate mother that I found within me and called upon to help me deal with my mom being emotionally absent. I don’t know what to call her really. Is she my higher self? The Great Mother? An angel? I’m not sure, but what she showed me is another way of being a woman. A way to break the family cycle. A way to change my fate.
And if I can do it with the mother figure in me, then why not the father figure in me? Why not balance that shit out?
So I’ve been trying it out, and it’s like pure magic. I’m so ready to let go of the past and move on, that it feels like liquid gold to me. Yes, I can overwrite the genetic male/female that I was programmed with and start over, start fresh. Wipe the slate clean and try again.
I feel the father figure in me letting me know that I can rest, I can relax now. He’s going to take good care of me from now on. I don’t have to try so hard anymore. I can let go of all of the burden and heartache I’ve been carrying through life, because he’s here now. I can stop working myself into a frenzy and burning myself out, thinking I have to do it all.
He feels bigger than me, stronger than me. I trust him. He’s not human, he’s something more than that and so it makes it easier for me to feel trust in that part of myself again.
But I don’t just feel him alone, I feel my mother figure with him too. In union. Both warm and glowing and shining solidarity and security down on me. Spreading and sinking into me that everything is going to be okay. It’s really okay.
It’s a little disorienting, shifting perspective like this. It’s also a great relief to find that I don’t have to wait for others to be okay before I can find a way to be okay in myself. I like that. It makes me feel more open and empowered. Like I got this.