Healing the Wounded Self

Sometimes I am unable to see through my woundedness. It clouds my judgement and perspective on life and in relationships. If I can honor my wounded self, I am able to care for myself in ways that others are unable to. There is a deep woundedness within me. It comes from generations of women who could not care for themselves or their children, who could not heal that part of themselves that was wounded and filled with pain. Who looked outside to others for healing, giving over this healing power to another. If I can have awareness and acceptance for this woundedness, I can begin to move through the world more authentically, with more care for myself, and with more clarity in the world. What ways can I care for myself in times of woundedness? How can I love myself when that woundedness shows up on on the front door of my heart? How can I have more acceptance of my woundedness? How can I be present with my wounded self? What would it look like for me to return back to the moments where I felt neglected, especially as a child where it all began? For me to be present to my kid self? What does she need?

I thought about the experiences when I was as I child and I would dance for adults to shift their mood, trying to attend to their needs in an effort to be seen myself. As I reflected on these experiences, I imagined my adult self walking up, pulling up a chair and saying to little Keegan, “Hello, how was your day? Tell me a story about school today.” My adult self and kid self would share a meal, laugh, and play. All the things I yearned from the adults in my life but inconsistently and rarely received. When I thought about this, I smiled brightly. I felt liberated. Liberated to no longer seek in others the relief and healing I needed from the pain of neglect from loved ones. Liberated to no longer hold that pain that I carried for years. Liberated to free myself of the weight of ancestral pain I carried to be seen, heard, and loved. To know that I may be the answer to my own healing. 

~An excerpt from my book, A Return to Home.

We Remember

Love and Loss