Note: This post was debuted in an unedited form on the No Politics, Just People podcast with Matt Brooks.
Every morning I spend time in meditation. It's my time to connect with Earth and Source energy, to notice and balance my own energetic flow, to offer gratitude, and to ask for support in co-creating my current dreams. I don't usually ask for specific guidance during this time, but sometimes it's offered to me, nonetheless.
One morning a few weeks ago, I felt a darkness in my heart chakra. I briefly wondered what might be in this space that wasn't a space, and was immediately offered an answer: this is your space to heal, the space you wounded years ago. The time has come to offer yourself healing.
OK, then! Later that evening I sat down with my journal and asked for guidance in healing this wound. I channeled healing energy and wrote in my journal as I did so. This is what I wrote...
There is a...not a hole, per se. A blank space? Not quite that, either. A hidden space, perhaps. An area shrouded. It feels black and empty, but it is not without substance. It's not a hole, but rather a specific place that has been covered. The blackness is an illusory exterior, latched on to what is beneath. And what's beneath is a piece of my heart center, the place where deep self-love and self-honor reside.
In this space there is a wound. Part of me wants to blame another for this heart hurt, to say "YOU broke my heart." But that's not really, or at least entirely, true. This brokenness is mine. It's not the wound dealt to me by the other; the space calling to be seen and healed is the one left broken and bleeding by me.
There was betrayal by the other, of this there is no doubt. But the deepest duplicity was mine, the worst wound was self-inflicted. He lied...but I knew he lied, and I discarded this knowing. I intentionally turned away from my inner voice, deliberately dismissed my truth. I knowingly accepted dog turds and let myself be told they were diamonds.
I was fully aware of what I was being offered. There were no cut edges, these "gifts" did not sparkle in the light. They were warm and tacky in my hand. They stunk. I knew what was being handed, yet still I asked...
What are these? Oh, diamonds? For me?! You shouldn't have.
No, I shouldn't have. And the list of shouldn'ts started long before the lies. I created the opportunity for betrayal when first I betrayed myself. He's so much better than me, I thought. So much smarter, so much more successful, so much more accomplished. So much more, more than me. My brain played this off as admiration, but my heart felt the truth of what was beneath these words...he's so much more valuable than me. He is worth more, which naturally means that I am worth less.
He's worth so much, he's so good. I had better be good, too. Good enough.
That's it, right there. That's the poison seed from which the garden of treachery would grow. That was the first cut to the center of my soul, made with a blade so thin and sharp that I didn't even feel the slice. Made, undeniably, by my own hand.
The moment I thought that "good enough" was something I had to craft and create, rather than something inherent to me. The moment I chose to act good enough, rather than accepting that I could be nothing less, that "good enough" wasn't crafted outside of me, but woven within me, like my bones. That's where it started, that was the first lie. Long before he would choose deception, I chose it for myself.
From this misguided place I tried to foster a relationship. I wasn't not me. My lies were far too subtly crafted for that. I just wasn't all of me. I was quieter. I asked about what he knew, without ever volunteering my own knowledge. I admired his strengths and failed to show (or admire) my own. I let him make all of the choices. And all of the money. I made his dreams my dreams, his home my home, his things my things. All in the name of being "good enough" for him, all from a place of believing he was just a little bit better than me, just a notch above my pay grade.
And then he changed his mind. He took back his home and his things. He shared his dreams with someone else. And because I had given up what was mine, I was left with nothing. It's true, what they say--no one can take from you what is yours. Unless you willingly surrender it. No matter, it's just as gone, either way. And I was left with nothing...
Nothing but the chance to realize I still had the most valuable thing in life...ME. But somehow I missed the lesson. I still failed to see my own value. Now I was bleeding from the cuts he had delivered, but I pushed the knife in deeper. I twisted it, hard, feeling the point grind against the center of my soul, screeching and scraping.
I took the dog turds, knowing they were shit. I told myself they were diamonds. Over and over again in the darkness I forced the lies down my own throat, gagging and crying, refusing myself surcease. I listened, time after time, to words I knew were untrue, and I chose to believe them. In this choice I damaged myself far more than he ever could have.
I blackened this spot. I denied this part of myself, at first in small ways and eventually in a spectacular fashion. I left my heart center with nowhere to go but behind the shroud, nothing to do but hide and wait for me to see the truth. Not his truth, MY truth.
And here it is, my truth. No one is above my pay grade. No one is more or less worthy than I, and I am no more or less worthy than any other. I am full of worth, as is my birthright. If another should fail to see that, it's not a reflection of their worthlessness, but of their inability to value any worth--mine or their own. That is for them to carry, and for me to walk away from with grace.
This is also my truth: I created this wound. This sealed off space in my heart's center, I put the hurt there. My choices and my actions left the lesion in need of a shield. I made this hurt. And I can heal it. The healing is happening now, as I realize that I can love myself fully and unconditionally, and that my own love is my only need. The love of another is a grand gift, but never a necessity. When I walk through life in love with me, I will naturally draw the love of others and can choose to align myself with the souls who bring me peace and partnership. But the only necessity is my love, my honor.
I offer that love and honor to myself now, as one would offer a vow to a lover. Never again will I forsake myself. In this life and all lives, on this plane and all planes, I will love me first and fully, truly and honestly, fiercely and courageously. For better or for worse, for richer or for poorer, in sickness and in health, I love ME.
From this space of love, I offer myself a sincere apology. I am sorry that I didn't love you as you deserved to be loved. I am sorry that I created a fallacy in which I loved another more than you. I am sorry that I ignored and abandoned you. And I offer you this most solemn promise...it will never happen again.
I can see you now. I can hear you now. You are magnificent and beautiful and deserving. You are all that you need to be, all that I need you to be. I will never turn my back on you again. It's you and me, babe. Or...it's me and me, babe. Either way, we're in this together. I love you. I love you. I. Love. Me.