My relationship with Mom isn’t healthy. I know this. She’s a master at soul sharing.
As I grew into an adult, she handed me more and more of her soul pieces to carry. Too much pain—it’s my job to carry it for her. And I love her so much, I agree to the task.
Mom the eternal child. The bright, vulnerable spirit people adore. Who can’t possibly take responsibility for herself. So I do it instead, and it becomes an inside joke. I’m even proud to be the “big sister”. I feel so capable and worthy. No need to focus on the monumental task of taking care of myself.
There’s no matrilineal blueprint for self-care, anyway.
And yet, I used to feel empty so often. Exhausted.
I rely on shamanic work because #soulretrieval opens my eyes. Each returning piece of me brings its own wisdom and clears my mind.
The most recent soul piece is 13. Re-integration is a long process, and I’m slowly learning why I needed twenty years of other soul-retrievals to prepare for her strength. We are far more afraid of the light than we are of the dark. I lost her when I realised my family doesn’t love me. The pain of the truth ripped her away. I chose the dark. The matrilineal trait which bestows a phenomenal talent for delusion.
For the past months she’s offered glimpses of her perspective on my relationships. Past and current. Little by little, I lower the walls which kept me safe but imprisoned. Each look at the world over them obliterates fantasies I no longer need to survive.
"Mom and I are in this together”. She and I have a #codependentrelationship. I’ve made so many excuses for her painful behaviour. Putting me down in front of others, normalising my brother’s abuse, manipulating with her childish inability to take responsibility for herself—the pouts and rages when someone didn’t fall in love with this survival tactic. She loves me, I know this is true. But I won’t carry her soul pieces anymore. Her totem has already accepted many of them back. It’s my job to keep letting them go.
"I avoided being in an abusive relationship." Even though he supported me through depression, Husband and I lived in an abusive relationship for many years. His undiagnosed sleep apnea compounded the problem. I’m still processing that time in our relationship. He and I speak about it openly as we build a healthier marriage.
This is me, stepping further into the light.