(Disclaimer: Some names have been changed to protect their privacy. Some information may be disturbing for some readers. Read at your discretion. 18+)
Clairity’s question, “what’s the reason you accept minimal effort?” played on my mind the rest of that night. The next day, I went for my usual walk and toke with Kody. Whilst we were on our walk, I thought about Clairity’s question again. My first thought that came to my mind was my mum’s words to me, “I may have to love you, but I don’t have to like you. I don’t like you right now. Get out of my sight”.
No sooner was I living in that past memory, Clairity brought me back into the present.
“Yes dear. You are on the right track. Having that message inserted into your teenage years created what form of internal messaging you gave yourself?”.
I was only to be loved out of obligation, rather than loved for me being me.
“Yes, correct. What form of affection did you witness between your parents?”.
That was a good question I thought. I recognize I am working through rewiring a traumatized brain when I say, I am unable to recall my parents ever kissing in front of me. I am unable to recall my parents ever holding hands. The only time I can recall my dad showing physical affection towards my mum was when she was preoccupied in the kitchen cooking dinner.
My mum would get annoyed with my dad. She would shoo him away and say, “piss off Gary!”. My dad would then back off and start to nitpick at my mum’s cooking style. My mum would then retaliate with, “if you don’t like the way I cook then bloody cook it yourself”.
The only other memory I have of my parents being truly affectionate towards one another was my dad calling my mum love or sweetheart. My dad called most females sweetheart. My dad could be charming when the circumstances called for it. My dad wasn’t an arse to everyone. He was usually easy going with people he hardly knew. My dad preferred to keep his grumblings about people and his life in the dark.
Perhaps there were times when my parents embraced in front of my brother and I. If they did, I do extend my sincere apologies to them for my misleading. I am honestly unable to remember. I also must recognize, I was not privy to their pillow talk. My parents love each other in a way that is none of my business, nor is it of my concern. Therefore, I do not have all the facts. I only have what I have come to know in my perception. My perception of love and finances was developed by my observations of my parents. That is what I have come to know today.
Due to my selective memory, I built layers upon layers of messages telling myself that I must earn someone’s love because otherwise they would feel obligated. I believed no one would love me for me. They would only love me if I was being of good service. I had also learned that public displays of affection were taboo. Men prefer to enjoy my body in private. I also learned that “sparrow legs, knock-knees, arsehole, and she who must be obeyed”, were terms of endearment. I was expected to be the brunt of someone’s jokes. It’s normal.
My parents are also English born. According to my parents, English people only hug dogs and horses, children are to be seen and not heard, and out of sight out of mind is best. I could never embrace those ideas for myself. I detested that approach to people, especially children. With that, I over compensated by becoming overly affectionate and giving of my heart.
The challenge with over compensation is a tendency to over give and see the good in people, always. I trained myself to ignore the darker aspects of a person. I chose to see people’s light because I had to keep defending my own. I would empathize with people who were in a constant state of self-defense.
In other words, I started to weaponize empathy against myself. I tipped the scales heavily on the side of empathy. Which fed the excuses I made for my loved one’s choices in behavior. Making excuses for hurtful behavior and empathizing with their pain kept me in an imbalanced state. I ignored my own pain in order to better understand the person who had hurt me. I was stunting my own growth in the development of wise discernment because I secretly resented others who struggled with empathy. I chose the extreme opposite end of dissonance. I became overly involved in people’s emotional and mental torment through my own unhealthy form of empathy. I kept myself in emotional and mental torment by ignoring the truth.
The truth being, you can have empathy for another person’s stage in life whilst also keeping yourself at a distance, or, you can use empathy as a guide, rather than as a savior. Save yourself so that you can save another through your natural leadership. A soul who is observing you is a soul you are influencing just by being you.
“Very good Clair. What does this mean to you?”.
This means I must be willing to see a person’s true efforts without glorifying them. I must be willing to see the similarities between my parents’ expression of love, and Rosie’s expression of love. I must be willing to see both his shadow and his divine self. I must also do the same with my parents and myself.
“Yes, this is true Clair. There is no blame, no shame, only understanding. You give of yourself freely. How often did your dad take your mum out on dates?, or, plan anything extra special for her on Valentine’s day and her birthday?”.
I remember my mum showing me a beautiful ring my dad bought her when I was around twenty-seven. She said, “finally, I have an engagement ring with a wedding band set”.
If my memory serves me correctly, my dad gifted that set to my mum for Christmas? Before then, my mother wore a wide, thin band, with star patterns etched in it. My mum didn’t wear an engagement ring. My parents went on trips. Leaving my brother and I alone for two weeks at a time, on two or three occasions. Other than that, I can’t say I remember my dad doing anything that special for my mum.
I also remember seeing a photo of me when I was a baby. I was being held by my dad’s, dad’s, second wife. My brother was standing in front of my dad’s dad. We were all dressed nicely. The photo was taken at my parents’ wedding. My mother showed me the picture one time and said, “look. You were even crying that day. You never stopped crying”. The message I received from my mum was, I even ruined her wedding day for her.
Clairity broke my thoughts of that picture with, “have you noticed you keep your tears to yourself? Have you noticed you keep silent even though you received little affection?”.
Yes, I am seeing a pattern. Rosie had kissed me, maybe a handful of times. He had only ever called me beautiful twice. One of those times was during sex. Rosie only complimented me when I looked sexy enough for him, and he never showed public displays of affection. I kept quiet for the most part. Occasionally my thoughts would slip out of my mouth with “you don’t love me Rosie. You don’t even find me attractive”. Rosie didn’t correct me. He simply switched the subject or remained silent.
“Are you noticing a deeper layer in that pattern?”, Clairity asked.
Yes, I most certainly am. Rosie only said “I love you” when he was love bombing me.
“Excellent. You are acknowledging the love bombing. You are listening to the experts we have been sending you online. Very good. Do you remember your parents saying I love you to each other, or to you?”.
Fantastic question! Rarely if ever did I hear the words, “I love you”.
“Clair, in what way did your dad tease your mum each year when it came to her birthday?”.
As soon as Clairity asked, I thought, “well shit, would you look at that. My dad is five days younger than my mum. Each year my dad would tease my mum about her age. Especially the big decade turning years. Rosie did the same thing with me. Rosie is four years younger than me. He enjoyed reminding me of my age as well. I am starting to see the patterns.
“Excellent Clair. Now, go back to one of your earlier childhood memories when your mum said to you, “I may have to love you, but I don’t have to like you”. Talk with your teenager. She is trapped inside you. Your inner teenager is inside her own little cave. Consider her as having duct tape over her mouth as a symbol to remain quiet. Remove the duct tape. Unbind her. Be her mother. Tell her she is loved. Tell her how compassionate she became. Help her understand that she is strong, courageous, and safe.
After you talk with her, embrace her in your arms. Do the ten second hug rule that Liv introduced you to. As you embrace, feel your teenage energy merge with yours, now, today, in the present. Feel your teenager come back inside of you. She is no longer a fragmented consciousness. Your auric field strengthens and fills the tares which were created by rejection. Once you are aware of this particular version of you, and you embrace her, you feel more whole and complete.
Once you feel the shift within you, make a committed promise to yourself to let your inner teenager speak when she feels the desire to do so. Remain aware when she is triggered. Remain aware when she is alerting you to potential pain. Listen to her voice so that she can build confidence and trust in you. Doing this fills the gap in your energy. You are in a firmer, more peaceful state of being. It is then when you can maintain a supported boundary. Love yourself by committing to your promise”.
With Clairity’s instruction in mind, I sat on a park bench, tied Kody to the leg of the bench, then meditated. I imagined my teenage self. I stood before her and stepped up to the plate. I had a heart to heart conversation with her and pulled her back into myself. It was incredibly powerful. I released a heck of a lot of tears, then walked back to Rosie’s house with Kody.
Going forward, my efforts in the house began to wane. I also started to voice my discomfort to Rosie more often. My lack of effort was being noticed. Especially by Rosie’s mum. The egg shells I was walking on were starting to crack.
LivWithClairity 
Leave a comment