“ I had endured the most oppressive heat and ferocious fire.
I was torched and set alight during my darkest days and slowly burned from the inside out, through the nights when I felt safe enough to close my eyes. I have sat with brokenness and fear. Violated, intimidated, mistreated, imprisoned… It matters not what label you put on it, abuse always holds the power, raging through you, burning, just like hell.
The flames engulfed everything, they left me scorched, fragmented and scarred. I continued to burn relentlessly, until the fire consumed every molecule of goodness, light and positivity from my life. It desecrated my whole being. The flames had stripped me of every belief I ever had about myself and all that I knew, past and present. Every memory, every safe place, every breath.
I was lost... alone... naked... afraid.
Buried deep among the undergrowth was the place that was now my home. Escaping this pit wasn’t going to be easy, and after all, it had begun to feel safe here. Uncomfortable, limiting, smothering, but safe. Freeing myself from the gnarling roots that had grown so rigid and lightening fast above me, was near impossible. I was entangled. I had adapted and blended with my environment so copiously, I couldn’t tell us apart.
The roots had menacingly dragged me lower and lower beneath the cold, damp soil, that I was forced to evolve. I was no longer able to take deep, life giving breaths. The amount of air down there was limiting, but just enough to enter my lungs to survive. Numerous times I felt ready to fight, yet not strong enough to take action. I yearned to leave the depths of my personal hell, but fear and attachment held me bound.
Over time I became stronger, rebuilding parts of myself from the ashes that lay at my feet. I held onto gratitude in my heart, as I knew I couldn’t descend any lower, and as I projected my thanks out to spirit, in return they graced me with a message. I was immediately aware that my feet were so steady and secure on the soil. It took a moment to realise, that this was my foundation. My platform to rise again.
Holding that strong belief within me, the light in the dark, I was aware that the fire had not stolen everything as I’d thought, it had left behind a glorious gift. Deep within, I was still alight. I cradled a spark, a delightful, glowing ember in the middle of my soul.
This was meant for me. The universe had left me a saviour.
I closed my tired eyes, breathed my last shallow breath, and rose from the dirt with the grit and determination I had been rebuilding all this time. I looked dishevelled. My body was scarred and unclean, my fingernails black, echoing the absence I had felt so heavy in my heart, and yet, I felt relief.
In that moment, naked, damaged, soiled and broken, I had never felt so beautiful. Authentic, loved and honoured. I was reborn. I had transcended desperation, allowed the shackles of my pain and suffering to fall, and I was free, lighter than before, with fresh eyes. I was finally awake. I wasn’t feeling scarcely nourished anymore, I had championed myself to break through my pain and live my truth. To stand still and receive fully, that which was natural and flowed so freely. I had finally stepped into the person I was born to be and I WAS ENOUGH!
I looked around at the colours of the universe surrounding me, I was still alone, cold and naked but no longer lost and afraid. The ember within me resumed its glow, warm, comforting and true. I was alive. I knew, that as much as I felt a part of the universe in this moment, the universe was also a part of me, illuminating my path before me and igniting my passion and my life’s purpose.
The divine had offered His hand to lead me home, and standing in my power and reclaiming what was rightfully mine, I surrendered myself to trust, and accepted my birthright, my destiny.
Within my own story lies a wise lesson for all of us, as we are constantly gleaning great wisdom from the mysteries of our past hurts.
‘Perfection is not worthiness... our authenticity creates our powerful story, and our truth and vulnerability shows our fierce courage' - Michelle Bush-Batty
I do not live in fear anymore, I am safe now. My little girl takes comfort and shelter within me and is learning, as have I, to just rest. She knows we are no longer fearful, however it often slips her mind. So I cradle her, hold her soft, flowing hair in my hands, and remind her of her beauty. I show her she is loved, honoured and cherished. My girl is my world and I am her champion….forever entwined.
Rebuilding my life after abuse has been a roller coaster journey and sometimes I contemplated ever making it out the other side, but I did. I gave myself permission to heal and carve out a new path for myself with all that i’d learned from my journey and wanted to share this freedom with others, just like me.
Using this knowledge and wondrous healing power with my own clients in my one to one programs gives me life. I breathe in fully every day because I am blessed. I honour my own story as I honour my queens. They are survivors, strong and true. Warriors of heart and goddesses of soul. My work is life saving and transformational. Bringing you back home and nurturing you who truly are.
So honour your little girl today, love her, hear her, and validate her by living true to who you were born to be…”