Tag: aliveness

love

In Love #21

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I’m in love with long soaks in the tub. Submerged and slippery, moist and memorable. Every time sinking deeper into existence, shielded from the sharp edges of life. Droplets rolling, streaming earthbound to join the masses.

Oh those discards, the misfit toys, traveling away from my body. The warm liquid purging the heaviest of baggage. Leaving it all out there. Effortless. My troubles lathered and cleansed. Cleansed and cleared. Draining slowly and methodically into the underworld.

This cleanse welcomed. Held in love and acceptance. No judgement, buoyant in the lovely liquid, wonderful waves wiping away the weary. I lose myself in this space humidifying my soul. A surround sound energy of contentment flooding, swirling. Im in love with long soaks in the tub.

affirmation · love

In Love #32

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Charleston SC Captured by A Fish Named Karen

I’m in love with the windy whispers through tall pines. Hushed tones of earthly exhale. Softly swaying fuzzy giants, grounded in majesty, looking upward to the sky. They creak, they groan, they cry the tune of the ancients, telling of older times, softer rhymes found in a storybook.

Just dots, we are, in their presence, the lines of heaven and tell are blurred. Lend me your words old wise one. Notes of highest angelic shrill gifting us trunkful tales. Maybe a land of plenty, land of riches, of smells and sticky feels. The voice of the ages, medicine to my soul.

My darling pines so strong and stoic, feathered and furrowed are your clothes; a green forever wardrobe of survival. Sheltering weary men, infant beasts and the aged all on the dreamy skyline of the countryside. Medicinal oils and resins, cones and needles- the Elders understood your worth. I understand your worth. I’m in love with the windy whispers through tall pines.

As the earth breathes, featherless babies, held by your plentiful arms and soft fingers, sway in your comfort. Safe, sound and serene, they sleep. Pines rooted and resilient, thriving in rocky and sandy soil. Your roots expand laterally, reaching out to connect with others. Holding hands and handing holds, all is well with earth.

Your wide base of support offered to humanity. I imagine the core of the earth meeting you with its richness and once again you and I are loved, revered for our magnificence, our presence. The greatest love affair ever imagined between heaven and birth. I dream the dream, in love with tall whispering pines.

Write, Right?
action · authentic · Thrive · warrior · words

Write, Right?

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I wish I could write like words tumbling out of an overcrowded elevator at 5pm. I wish I could write with the hype of soccer fans in Portugal. I wish I could write like my life depended on it. I wish I could write like a blizzard was delivering 3 feet of snow. I wish I could write like the excitement of Christmas morning. I wish I could write like none of my fears were awake yet. I wish I could write like I was brand new on this earth. I wish I could write smelling the salty air of a stormy sea. I wish I could write and couldn’t stop. I wish I could write like a flight to Ecuador. I wish I could write with the love of 10 hearts. I wish I could write until tomorrow morning. I wish I could write like the thundering paws of a black bear. I wish I could write with knowing. I wish I could write with visionary precision. I wish I could write like a kiss on the forehead after a long day. I wish I could write with inner child squeals of joy. I wish I could write with the power of jet engines. I wish I could write and see how I am helping others. I wish I could write with clarity and organization. I wish I could write feeling the encouragement of a good mother. I wish I could write and make it all right.

I will write like words tumbling out of an overcrowded elevator at 5pm. I will write with the hype of soccer fans in Portugal. I will write like my life depended on it. I will write like a blizzard delivering 3 feet of snow. I will write like it’s Christmas morning. I will write like my fears are still sleeping. I will write like I’m brand new on this earth. I will write smelling the salty air of a stormy sea. I will write and not stop. I will write like a non-stop flight to Ecuador. I will write like the love of 10 hearts. I will write until the sun comes up. I will write like the thundering paws of a black bear. I will write with a knowing. I will write with clear vision. I will write like a kiss on the forehead at the end of a long day. I will write to the squeals of joy from my inner child. I will write with the power of jet engines. I will write and notice how I am helping others. I will write with purpose and organization. I will write with the encouragement of a good mother. I will write and make it all right.

Comfort · exploration · gratitude · happiness · Joy

In Love #31

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I’m in love with colorful morning sunrises. Isn’t it just perfection the way a sunrise colors the land? The dark giving way to a deepening, drenched and delightful crayola horizon. Set on go, the peach and firey fuchsia showing up together, never disappoint.

Burning and stretching its way across the east. A front row magical sense of morning, this sacred theatre. Shades morphing as the minutes chase across the stage. My morning schedule halted and once again, I am rescued by unexpected beauty.

Glowing, dancing aliveness showers surfaces on purpose, with purpose. My home vibrating and the inanimate coming to life. Colors bursting from darkness, quenching my whiney morning soul.

I take it in. I hold it close. Essence captured in small sips to save and use tomorrow should the clouds roll. A timeless trademark of magics’ promise. Filling my body with hope and beauty I stare into its sky eyes. Glowing, growing, gone! I’m in love with colorful sunrises.

anyways

The Best She Could

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I think “she did her best” pushes a lot of buttons if we try to ingest those words TOO EARLY in our healing/unwrapping process. I am 20+ years into hardcore healing and I can just NOW try on this phrase “she did the best she could” without triggering the, Yeah but…
So much would rise up – anger, disgust, hate, rage – in side of me. It felt as though this was said (by others) to somehow minimize or negate the damage done. To free her of any wrongdoing, to wipe the slate clean and suddenly she is Snow White and I’m the circus act Tasmanian devil with nowhere to land and be validated. Just me running frantically and trying to get people (mostly family) to believe me, to side with me, to leave her like me…but met with the exact opposite… Like – what is your problem?

This is a complete mind fuck and when finally free from this AND the people who hold you/us as the ones who “can’t move forward, are stuck in the past, want to make people pay…bla bla” we can separate enough to see that she couldn’t give/do/be anything different because of her disowned trauma.

We can still hold our experience but she had hers also. We had needs, but they weren’t met. We needed safety, unconditional love, to be seen, heard, cherished, held, etc.. it’s very possible that 2 experiences existed and that’s ok. It doesn’t wipe ours out. Our trauma is no less valid just because someone denies our experience.

Own it, and all it comes with because this is the catalyst for something greater. Accept the challenge of all challenges and unpack all the heavy. I promise you there is light interwoven on your healing journey. Tap into the body held memories, the stuffed feelings, the fires that burn inside…the body never forgets but with some focused work, will relinquish it’s pain, it’s frozen, it’s swirling, it’s heavy material for healing. It will all work out, you will survive and thrive. Do things differently than she did – Never stop, never give up on who you came here to be.
You got this ❤️

The fire that burns inside, let it out
action

Recipe for Suffering

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Afishnamedkaren’s garden happy place

Today’s got me like – what the hell is going on?! Meeting up with so many disgruntled ppl on my path lately. I check myself because I may be adding to the mix in some sort of way. We usually are…. Some folks come at me wanting to slay all the good, seeming like they want me to pay, to drive me down, want me to be miserable too. It can feel personal. Evil. Tricky. Messy.
Well…no. I’m not havin it. It helps me to imagine their heartache, trauma and maltreatment they must endured as a child – because THAT’s why they act out on others.
They have not been able, for a plethora of reasons, to rise out of the trauma mud. Most often it’s easier to vomit your self hate onto others rather than to sit and digest the feelings coursing through your body and contain them.

Understanding and having Empathy for people who want to drive us down does not mean we are giving them a free pass to act out on us. NOT AT ALL !

We can be understanding and still have boundaries.
We can be understanding and still have our power.
We can decide to not take their attacks personally.
Because It’s not personal.
Be the pretty in a sea of ugly.

Putting our needs first is key. Walk away. Far away. Choose a different path, literally and figuratively. Say no. Don’t show up to fix it, you cannot fix them. Again, you can not fix them. Decline the invite to the anger party. There will be many.

The only thing we can change when purposeful/targeted conflict and aggression come our way – is our attention we give to it. And how we support ourselves. Pull yourself in. Pull your energy back to you, away from harm. Easy to visualize…Protect yourself, this is powerful shit. Jackwagons are everywhere.

Unravel what you may have learned about taking the blame…
I deserve it
I’m worthless
It’s my fault, must be me
I can fix them/this
It will get better soon
I feel sorry for them, I’ll just give in

Replace with…
I am loved
I can ask for help/validation
I am protected
I walk away from disrespect
I am powerful
There is nothing wrong with me, never was
I will do what it takes to feel safe
I can be content in a storm
Breath in calm, exhale their angst back to them

So let’s stop talking about a kinder, gentler nation (and people)- – if we’re not kinder and gentler with ourselves first!!! Because we can spend ALL our energy on trying to CHANGE other people and none of that means a damn thing. It’s actually the recipe for great suffering. Wanting something for someone else makes us suffer. Because they’ll change on THEIR schedule but usually – not at all.

Love yourself harder…this is what thriving looks like. Thrive like someone left the life gate open ❤️ because it is. It is.

Abundance

When I Sleep

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Picture credit A Fish Named Karen

When I sleep I am free. A freedom that surges and races like a rush of possibility. Glorious vivid colors and images unforgettable with their tag lines and feels. Words and phrases in various languages remembered upon my waking. Repeated over and over on my lips – no logical explanation. A fantasy world rich with prophecy, symbolism and fortune. Usually.

Lasting images can be brought back to life even years after. The details, players and setting recalled like it was the first time. Like I’m brand new. Like it’s all playing out. I record them best I am able. To reflect on, to ponder the wisdom contained. To feel alive in two worlds. To embark on a field trip surrounded by scenes drenched in color. Without a chaperone, someone left the gate open, I experience the wealth of the universe. Alone.

No rules, nothing shortening my inhale or exhale. I lock this experience into my body. Replacing all dis-ease. Long, slow, mindful ease accompanies these wide eyes. Take it in, allow. Come to me my longtime companion. I can’t help but giggle at this privilege. My inner child tickled pink that I accept this mysticism without doubt. She is relieved that I never discount what is seen, felt, heard – like they would want me to. Passing this off as some psychosis or medical crisis. Jealous.

My inner babygirl welcomes play in all forms. I indulge whenever possible. Allowing calls in the lovely. The carnival of thoughts, scenes richer than eyes open. Saturated yet simple. The messages come in, captivating all my senses. I am all in, all about it, it’s all good.

Animals

We Are Giraffe

A Fish Named Karen3 Comments

Which animal would you compare yourself to and why?

Giraffe and I, so many connections. Necks, long and lean, both our strength and our weak-neckss. Feeling super tall these days, at my five-foot-three bare bones and all neck-Ed. My energy though, is as tall as can be as I shed what’s held me down, what’s held me out what’s held me back.

Sticking my neck out, I help right the wrongs creating flow and ease. Giraffe, easily able to reach up for food, nutrients, dessert, sustenance, she is satis-pie’d. Like a G-neck I travel higher within myself for fulfillment – or is it filament? as I am light.

In the neck of time I arrive sure footed and savvy, at break-neck speed to tackle issues. Like G I, too have horns, tiny, unseen but felt if need be. “Mess with the horns and you’ll get the giraffe or is it Mess with the giraffe you’ll get the horns? Either way it’s a slippery slope-like back we have.

Yes, our ears big, standing at attention on a funny head, we focus and listen for trouble. But at the onset of any riff G-raff we stay close to home, make a go of it, relying on blending in, turning away from chaos, disappearing.

At times we are invisible, certified shape shifters -Giraffe and I …sisters from different misters, equally underestimated, overlooked. Comfortable in our patterned skin, homebodies are us. GirAfrica and the You Es Hay, our language of love, acceptance and tolerance universitally wonderstood. We arrive seemingly aloof, unassuming, mild and pleasant. Until we’re not.

We are Giraffe.

allow

On Crack

A Fish Named Karen1 Comment


Perfectionism……………………….
Per-fect-shun-is-ummmm. Hmmm, shunning the perfect, the pressure, warped sense of acceptable. No more reliving what we’ve been taught. Release the grip on the torch we’ve carried to keep ourselves in check and appear flawless. Allow the cracks to happen…how else will the light get in?

fun

In Love #30

A Fish Named Karen4 Comments

I’m in love with sleep winding it’s drowsy little fingers around my being. Like a river with no particular place to be, no destination. Sneaking past anxiety and rapid thoughts to land softly, completely. Silently. With conviction, convection, confection…sweetness, efficiency and dedication. It’s here.

But I don’t notice as I am won. I am one with that which renews me, holds me, knows me by name. I am too familiar with sleep’s inner child, the toddler. Two and three and four she is. Two and three and four hours of darkness with eyes open wide, open wild. Ages and hours alike. She’s ready to party like some left the lights on. Leave me alone, I whisper, I must rest I’m working on growing older so I may rise. So someday I may be wise.

I’m in love with borrowing nothingness, slowly becoming unaware of my brain’s foul mouth. “Just one more thing….” The brain bids of pressures and deadlines. I walk these misguided Randy’s down the hall, to their cribs for they are just infants and need to be shown the way of time and pace. Maybe the morning grace will transform the have to’s and should haves. Maybe life will slow to the rate of my heartbeat.

Just perhaps I need to tuck those rapid thoughts in next to me. Giving them permission to rest. Rather than to send them away, send them packing just to have them return more powerful at greater volume…Close is best. Covers tight around the edges, lips hushed in the most contractual way. Bargaining with my brain because

I’m in love with sleep.

appreciation

In Love #29

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I’m in love with morning mist. Slipping around unnoticed like a forgotten shoe on the side of the highway. The moisty moist, seeping through obstacles on its path. Unexpectedly, life succumbs to the commanding curtain. As we awaken to the new day, there’s a breach in the outer bands of body aura.

The awareness of the wet, the cling, the intimacy of cool arriving suddenly. Silently. Allowing. Every Season with it’s own version.

Winter’s mist freezes. Preserving perfect ice spheres on each blade of grass, every dry remnant of expired flowers, berries. Frist, it’s called, glittering and shimmering giving note to shapes and shadows. Natures’ icy fingers dripping, building new layers. The invisible becoming visible each air droplet pregnant with moisture. Each finding it’s resting place on the earth.

Spring mist brings with it hope and cleanse. Working it’s way into our lungs. Cleaning and clearing the lung cobwebs of Winter stagnation.

Summer’s mist with its mysterious, muted splendor, loudly claims its plot. Arriving at the tree tops and descending heavily upon the vegetation. The greens greener the browns earthier.

Autumn’s mist that hovers low as the tallest wheat stalk, gives an unexpected hug. The breath of the soul cut short. A slow n steady exhale hijacked by a disowned gasp.

The mists of Autumn. Outlining landscapes of past splendor, once showcasing lush bounty. Rich orange, red, gold, pink foliage now encased in humid, hanging, pregnant air. The foggy veil moves erringly hand picking, encasing each dead and crunchy. Breathing life into the lifeless. Fungus rising to the mist, faces turned upward toward the sky awaiting the gift of moist.

I’m in love with morning mist.

self love

Thriving

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Taking in

Today’s got me like – what the hell is going on! Meeting up with so many disgruntled ppl on my path lately. I check myself because I may be adding to the mix in some sort of way. We usually are…. Some folks come at me wanting to slay all the good, seeming like they want me to pay, to drive me down, want me to be miserable too. It can feel personal. Evil. Tricky. Messy.
Well…no. I’m not havin it. It helps me to imagine their heartache, trauma and maltreatment they must endured as a child – because THAT’s why they act out on others.
They have not been able, for a plethora of reasons, to rise out of the trauma mud. Most often it’s easier to vomit your self hate onto others rather than to sit and digest the feelings coursing through your body and contain them.

Understanding and having Empathy for people who want to drive us down does not mean we are giving them a free pass to act out on us.

We can be understanding and still have boundaries.
We can be understanding and still have our power.
We can decide to not take their attacks personally.
Because It’s not personal.
Be the pretty in a sea of ugly.

Putting our needs first is key. Walk away. Far away. Choose a different path, literally and figuratively. Say no. Don’t show up to fix it, you cannot fix them. Decline the invite to the anger party. There will be many.

The only thing we can change when purposeful/targeted conflict and aggression come our way – is our attention we give to it. And how we support ourselves. Pull yourself in. Pull your energy back to you, away from harm. Easy to visualize…Protect yourself, this is powerful. Jackwagons are everywhere.

Unravel what you may have learned about taking the blame…
I deserve it
I’m worthless
It’s my fault, must be me
I can fix them/this
It will get better
I feel sorry for them, I’ll just give in

Replace with…
I am loved
I can ask for help/validation
I am protected
I walk away from disrespect
I am powerful
There is nothing wrong with me
I will do what it takes to feel safe
I can be content in a storm
Breath in calm, exhale their angst back to them

So let’s stop talking about a kinder, gentler nation and people if we’re not kinder and gentler with ourselves first. Because we can spend ALL our energy on trying to CHANGE other people and none of that means a damn thing. It’s actually the recipe for great suffering. Because they’ll change on their schedule or not at all.

Love yourself harder…this is what thriving looks like.

abuse · trauma · triggers

Just A Shell

A Fish Named Karen2 Comments

Born into a family of dysfunction, I navigated my world the best I could, hoping to be loved, cherished, valued, held and heard. Instead I was met with disregard for my life, repeated, long-term invasion of my body, my innocence, violence disguised as love, safety/security masquerading as control. All at the hands of my parents and male siblings. I was doomed. A shell of a human. Existing in the dizzying cycle of being tossed around in the surf of life – only occasionally able to take a full breath, surface. Pieces of my personality chipped off, the tide taking them far off, away.  Never feeling the ground beneath my feet. Becoming dead inside, broken. Accepting the abnormal as normal. As violence, invasion came over me again and again I became familiar with rage. The rage that was growing inside of me. Rage that would never be recognized. Undercover. A secret rage, thoughts of revenge that would bring a sweet, savory smile to my perfect little-girl face. Continue reading “Just A Shell” →

Thrive

In Love #28

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
A smile from Brownie

I’m in love with unexpected smiles. The light in the snark, the playful mouth moves when all seems frost. Warming our perception of the jagged edges, the harsh we-ality. Giver and receiver alike, the threat replaced with gentleness. With joy. With connection.

The spread, taking us in new directions. Shattering tension, breaking barriers, it’s the universal, peaceful warrior code. The “I really see you” chipping away at walls, silently dismantling. Stealthily human and reassuring, a wide smile can disarm.

The giver offers the pearly uplift and received or not, it’s out there. A floating smile cloud for the taking. Without turbulence or storm, the smile poised to reign a shower of joy over unsuspecting travelers. We see it, feel it. Keep it or pass it dawn. Morning, noon or night a dentition delight. I’m in love with unexpected smiles.

human condition

In Love #27

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

I’m in love with hugs from strangers.

A welcoming, outstretched arms of inclusion. The rare and radical leave a tingling of newness, spreading across the shoulders, chest and back. No expectation. Taking in the offering. Not strange at all. Just a moment of reception. Receiving joy and compassion feels light and joyful. Not strange at all.

They’re a special breed, these folks. A chance meeting. A surprise invitation to meet an underdeveloped part of ourselves. The parts that open and take. Acceptance of warmth. Of soul recognition. It unfolds just as it should. Authentic and organic, giddy and gorgeous.

Sometimes we are the stranger. The giver of free love and compassion. Responding to the pain, relief or undeniable connection with another human. Hearts moved to meet. The power to heal. The power within us all.

I’m in love with hugs from strangers.

appreciation

In Love #26

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
With such a gorgeous display of feathers, turkey babies are sure to follow… who could resist this Tom? May 2022

I’m in love with wild Turkey fuzzy babies. Curious and bouncing. Sticking close by Mom as she meanders through the yard. Bobbing and weaving through clover and plantain, their heads barely visible.

Giggle, gaggle growing by the day, by the light, by sounds of dusk calling them home. Safe in the trees Momma takes all. Recharging for the next days worth of meals. Meandering across wide open spaces. Choosing only the finest of insects to fill their belly pouches.

Straying just far enough away from Momma. Testing the waters as Mom remains on guard. Predators are plenty. The perfect little appetizer these little cuties would make. In weeks they’ll shed their fuzz. Their soft. For a serious coat of dress.

Creating their own path. Their own families. Their own parties of 8. Or 9. Or 13. The stand tall and taller. Puffed out makes looking for a chance to continue their lineage. Females dutifully accepting the offer. The cycle continues one more season. Here they come. Bumbling. Bouncing. Beautiful.

I love wild Turkey fuzzy babies.

action

Sweet Generational Impact

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment
Don’t worry, we got this ♥️

We can only blame others for what has “happened to us” for so long. I do believe it a necessary process tho. Absolutely. It keeps us separate. It puts the blame where it belongs. Cause come on, no child asks for pain, insanity, sexual abuse, abandonment, humiliation, neglect…As children we come by this honestly. Circumstantial.

But…I think we run with that bs and grow to treat ourselves the same. It’s learned. It’s what they wanted us to learn. The hate, the inability to accept help, the way we please others first, the way we deny our own needs…all learned. So many of us get stuck in- “they made me like this” and close that chapter. End of story.

But…for some amazingly brave souls, I for one, we came into this life knowing that we will eventually reclaim all that was lost, all that was surrendered, all that was taken. MOST people I have met on my healing path settle with giving their abuser(s) the free pass. MOST people. And that rips my heart to shreds.

A complete disaster -from where I’m sitting. I am watching the generations below mine imploding with dysfunction in worse ways than the original shit. It’s here now. The trauma is visible, palpable, begging to be transformed. It laughs, taunts.

When we forever get comfortable sitting in – they did this to me – and we do not tease apart the “this”, we never need to change or do things differently. We can even dismiss them and fake their non-existence. The hate and rage inside us continues to simmer. They are forever the villain and we get to stay forever the victim. Sounds cozy.

Don’t have any children please. Just don’t.

The action script unfolds something like this…

Repeat after me: I have a part in this problem play. I’m not the main character but I’ve been really good as a supporting actor. I have learned my lines, they are automatic. This is what they want for me, so I don’t upset the trauma cart.

But wait, I no longer need to be in this drama. Being actively involved in this show keeps me in a negative, regretful, low vibrational place. I will take the steps necessary to eventually exit stage left. I want aliveness. I want revenge. Getting better for yourself, yes, this is the ultimate revenge.

Put some tall boots on and trudge through the mud in your life. Sometimes you’ll be stuck, unable to move. Other times you’ll move swiftly like it’s your job. Well you really are self employed. It’s your business and your the only one with YOU skills. That’s either really good news or very bad news. But actually, you will completely OWN your own success. The pride and sense of complete accomplishment are yours. Forever. Now take that deep dive into who you most deeply are.

Your personal success will ripple outward to impact all around you and especially the generations to come. Show us your BRAVE.

Human Spirit

Owners manual

A Fish Named Karen1 Comment

This girl. Right here. Should have come with instructions. She was born to rip shit up – perceptions, control, guilt – I shattered all of it – leaving the abusive family patterns in rubble. Why? Well why the fuck not? I was not made to keep quiet, guard the family secrets, keep the elders happy, drink the sweet tea to further rot my soul. They didn’t read the manual.

Hell to the NO. I was created to shake shit up and not to look back. Blazed trails to connect with the divine without the devil’s influence. And alone mind you – nobody followed, no one was willing to take the chance that this was the way out, to believe that my way was what worked. I traveled alone, leaving mounds of baggage behind. Claimed and abandoned.

After a while it was clear that they couldn’t stop me. They tried so hard for me to shut my fucking mouth. Whenever it opened truth spilled out. It worked. Made them look at their own dysfunction. That’s why I was hated, I knew there had to be a totally different way to live and I pushed hard for it.

Not just survive bathed in lies. But to live and thrive and love. I had to be brave enough to do battle with those who counted on me being silent. They’ll hate you for healing. No pain No gain is reality because it is excruciating for a long time, as life reconfigures around you.

They’ll hate you for exposing them. Try as you might, no one’s coming with. They’ll hate you for talking bad about the LOVELY family. I’m such a villain. That’s the branding. I AM forever branded. But fortunately I’ve turned that branding ass-end up and pointed it towards you all. If I was never “the villain” I would have never gotten well.

Truth be told, I am your worst nightmare when it comes to exposing shit. Illuminating the stuff others don’t want revealed? I’m your gal. My intuition honed – I see into people, their actions, their intentions. You can’t hide your trauma from me. I’m like a trained dog and how they wished I was house trained and would stfu.

Although I don’t expose other situations or call it out, I always respond in a trauma sensitive way which wins strangers over. The “how does she know” looks are frequent. But those who might try n shame me, turning what I “know” on those who still operate in that awry mode is rather enjoyable. When you’re no longer dependent upon those who wish to NOT SEE YOU RECOVERED, it’s rather enjoyable. When other’s hate and desire to silence you – has no power whatsoever, it’s enjoyable.

Regardless…It’s fun to be the sleeper, the underdog, the lost sheep, the black sheep, the weird one, the loner, the shy one. You taught me to be wild, to fight for my sanity, to get away. Up, up and away!!! Like underdog used to say. It’s really a shame I didn’t come with an operating manual – would have saved a whole lot of folks the trouble of sparring with me and LOSING.

Peace

How I know I’m a Warrior
Thrive · warrior · Whole

How I know I’m a Warrior

A Fish Named KarenLeave a comment

How do I know? How can I not know? Miles from what I thought was me. She’s gone now. My old self. Gone is the pleaser, the “it must’ve been me” girl, the girl who stayed quiet. The one who allowed others to overrule her thoughts. The girl who believed that she didn’t have needs. How could she ever get needs met? Having needs somehow took away from others and was self centered. Mean. That’s what they told me. That’s what I believed. She’s gone now.

The girl who just wanted to be happy- no matter the cost. The young lady who kept secrets so vile – so others wouldn’t deny her truth or be moved to action, or, worse yet…think SHE was the problem. Swallowing shards of pain for too many moons, too many seasons. The young miss who starved herself in an attempt to kill the beast within. She who flirted with ending her own life as a second grader. Yes, my warrior was hidden deep.

She who finishes last hurts most. The suffering stuffed inside her little body, tucked in every crevice, tissue, every body system. The mini me opening and reaching for support. Then retreating when the flames scorched her opening heart. She was likened to an invasive weed, her desire to live fully anyways. Gathering my scattered pieces, discards, the parts of me that could not stay. Then. Now held in the safety of truth, she’s crawled back, taking back.

Adding to my healing resume, I was. My ground. My worth. This felt right, felt write. Healing through the pen. Words reflecting misery and agony of emotions held. Yet, these words were the very voice I so greatly needed to mend the soul of me. A healing prescription, wrapping the ugly in gorgeous gift boxes. Gifting earned resilience, grace and perseverance – to myself. This is me, the warrior. Yes, please.

I didn’t know this was correct. Following what felt right, I was my own healing mentor. I didn’t know I had the power to change my own life. Excising those who disrespected my essence. Eradicating those who used me for their own pleasure. Ejecting those who snuff my fire. Evicting those who will never be allowed in again. Gates closed. Admission revoked. This is how I know. I am warrior.

Old trauma meeting Wisdom. War. War within myself. Me doing battle with the invisible. The parts of me that knew better – speaking at last. Hard work keeping my inner wisdom silent. The knowing, the wisdom, became the boss of me, eventually. This is how I live my warrior.