Navigating my Mother Wound

Yesterday was my mother’s birthday, a date that has always haunted me before.

Having not spoken to my mother in over 15 years, the date always seems to trigger me.

This whole Cancer lunar cycle/Capricorn full moon/Mercury Retrograde has really bubbled everything to the surface.

I’ve found myself withdrawing from the external world, finding it hard to dive into my normal sharing of content and channelings.

I’ve realized now that I needed to fully process it all for good.

Last year, as July 7th rolled in and I visited this date for the first time as a mother myself, I found myself treading waters unknown.  Postpartum fog and fatigue left me unstable to fully hold space for the emotions that poured out.  Rather than even try to handle it, I simply gave in to the undertow.

Sometimes we have to succumb to our emotions.  
Sometimes we have to let them pull us under.
Sometimes we have to go to that place where we can barely breathe, so we can face the decision to survive.

This past year has been a journey.
I’ve ventured through postpartum anxiety, depression, and insomnia.
I’ve grieved my old life more than I thought I ever would.
I’ve overloaded myself with an immense amount of guilt and shame.
And I’ve been processing my Mother Wound amongst it all more fully than I ever have before.

This year feels different.

July 7th came and went without much of a difference to me, probably for the first time ever.

This year I feel stronger, balanced, at more peace.

This year I feel more in control.

I let my mother control me for far too long.
I let her invade my thoughts and my emotions and my energetic channels years after we ever had contact with one another.
I let the ghost of her haunt me, even though she is still alive.

For years I’ve debated on sharing my experiences about my childhood.
Each year as I’ve healed more and more layers of my Mother Wound, I’ve wanted to open up more.
I’ve wanted to air it all out, let it breathe, so it can heal for good.

Yet, this piece of me still held back.

I’m an empathetic person.
My life is spent constantly worrying about others, even the ones that don’t worry about me.
It’s engrained into my star-coded DNA.  I just can’t avoid it.
But, sometimes, this quality tends to hinder me instead of help me.
In the case of my Mother Wound, it has kept me from fully stepping into my own Sovereignty and power.

This Cancer season has been intense.  
The waters have been rising up around me again.
Combine it with all of the memories of Mercury Retrograde and it seems like last summer is repeating itself.

But, like I said, I feel different this time around.

About a week ago I asked The Universe to help me heal this wound for good.
I asked my womb to fully release what no longer served so these waters would no longer pull me under.
I called on the codes of the Rose Lineage to embody me and help me to understand how to flow through this all with peace and compassion.
I called upon Mother Mary to mother me in the way my mother never could, so I could have a true example of how to mother my own child.
I called on dear sweet Magdalena to be by my side and remind me of the unconditional love I have inside and to remind me that my mother’s absence has no effect on that.
I called upon precious Isis to wrap her rainbow iridescent wings around me and protect me as I journey through the shadows of my own underworld.

3 days ago, I began to bleed.
Today, I am re-emerging from my womb cave rebirthed, renewed, and fully understanding where to go from here.

Universe has told me I MUST air out this wound for good.
I must share my story, and let others know they are not alone.
And I must no longer let the energy of my mother and our past connection haunt me and hinder me anymore.

Although my mother has no social media that I know of, no email or digital connection, I still worry that my words will hurt her.
I worry that my stories will stir up a past that I’ve ignored for too long, for my mother lives in a small town and small towns talk.
My intrusive thoughts play it all out in my mind in anxious expectation.  I can hear it in my mind.

“Did you read what she wrote about her mother?”
“Can you believe she would say that about her?”
“Does her mother know she’s putting these things on the internet?”

Trust me, it’s repeated in my mind for YEARS.

I’ve worried for far too long that my writings would somehow reach my mother, piss her off, and she would show up in my life for the first time in almost 2 decades to do or say something about it.

How irrational.

But, the truth is, the trauma my mother inflicted on me as a child is so deep-seeded, that even as an adult I still find fear around the thought of her.

No more.

My recent moon brought me to the realization that I am always in power.
I am so in control that I even knew hours before my bleed started 3 days ago that it would.
A week ago I conjured the power to release my womb specifically on July 7th to help me both symbolically and fully release what had continued to stay scarred upon me.

These 3 days have brought so much wisdom.

Ultimately, they have taught me to stop giving a FUCK when it comes to my mother.

Don’t get me wrong, I truly wish her well.  I hope she heals from her own traumas and finds peace.
I hope she finds joy and unconditional love.

But I can no longer hold back my own healing out of worry of hurting her.

She has hurt me so much.  Probably beyond what she has ever realized.
She has reminded me time and time again out of her sheer absence that she has probably never given a fuck herself.

These past 3 days, as I truly dove in and tried to understand her actions, it dawned on me to stop trying at all.
I was reminded that she hasn’t tried for so long and never will.
I was reminded that I don’t even want her to try.  And I’ve been ok with that for a long time now.
I surfaced a memory from within me, where The Universe reminded me that even when the father of her daughter died, she still did not reach out.  Not even to send her condolences.  Not even through a third-party or a written word or any sort of recognition that it happened.

When my father passed, and I heard nothing from her, it made me realize that I had never been wanted by her.

Her silence in my fathers death made me feel like maybe it was all closure to her.

And, although, I didn’t understand at the time, The Universe has now helped me to see this.

It’s time to let go, stop giving into fear, and share what I’ve been through.

And to do it all with no fucks given just as she has done with me.

I will never write with animosity.  I will never wish ill on her.
But I will share my truth, because I believe it is what I am put here to do.

Daughters of mothers who did not want you, I see you.
Daughters of mothers who did not love you, I am holding space for you.
Daughters of mothers who disappeared, you are not alone.

Share your stories.  Let your Mother Wound air out and heal.
Let it haunt you no more.