Healing our victimhood with the Father & Mother
There isn’t a single person whose tension doesn’t originate from some childhood lack of love, support or safety. What we all wanted was to be loved unconditionally, to have our voices heard with a mirroring of our preciousness, for those around us to see us as beautiful, amazing, sacred, powerful. We all want to be special. And yet, we all are wounded, and a little bit crazy to be frank:) We didn’t get the thing we really wanted, and so now we are wounded and working toward healing those wounds. Some call these “sacred wounds” although, sometimes it certainly doesn’t feel like it.
An obstacle I’ve been witnessing in this woundedness is a stance of victimhood that keeps us stuck in a karmic loop. And so I ask: what if we learned to embody the mother and father energies we’ve been longing for? What if parts of US became the internal resources that couldn’t be taken away, the resources that we could go to when we desire the kind of love we believe to be the love we all deserve? That would most certainly confuse our stance and call us into a much more potent version of ourselves!
We wanted our parents to love us perfectly. We expect that they should have, and so we blame our childhoods for our suffering. And yet.. we don’t hold our ability to love to the same standards. Because others didn’t give us perfect love, we feel justified in taking the stance of victim and therefore, not having to give ourselves this same perfect love. A part of us always thinks it’s someone else’s job to make us feel loved, safe, sacred. The truth is that no human can love us the way the divine does. It’s impossible. Our human selves will never be able to love perfectly. As soon as we split into duality, we inherently became imperfect (and not), as the dance of yin/yang will always be creating love vs. fear, dark vs. light etc. And this “imperfection” keeps the dynamic pulse of life in motion, through infinite births and deaths. The lack creates the desire to create. So what if our parent’s imperfect love was the most beautiful gift they could have given us? What if their fall from grace was just what it took for us to learn to fly ourselves?