About Me — Bonnie
An Empath, A wounded healer, with a Chameleon Soul.
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When someone says to ‘tell me about yourself’, I instinctively go to tell them that my name is Bonnie, I’m 24 years old, English, and living in South Wales, UK. I have a 1 year old child who I’m at home with, without a job, living with my Soul Mate, at the in-laws due to the cost of living crisis, and my conflict between wanting to home ed and be with my daughter, but also needing our own space. I’m studying to be a Counsellor, I’ve been writing since I was a child, am a trained Pregnancy/Post-partum Yoga Teacher, as well as a Hypnobirthing Teacher, who is slowly, in between the nurturing of my little one, and the challenges with finances, is building a Conscious Womb-en and Children Healing Community, and self-publishing two books.
The thing is, the more commitment I put into expressing all that makes me human, the more I speak my truth, the more I build a purposeful Sisterhood, delve deep into my shadow aspects, and reflect on my deep-rooted pain, I’m starting to reflect more on the Q: ‘Who am I really?’ Underneath all of the boxes, in between all of the titles, who am I?
So, here goes.
Since I was a child, I knew I was different. I knew we were different. We couldn’t have what others had. The white picket fence, the family meals fuelled with love, the freedom to be myself, no matter what that looked like. I grew up poor, in an abusive household at the hands of my Father, with my two older brothers, younger sister and our Mother. We learnt from an early age, to keep our mouths closed, that no one could be trusted, that this was what love looked like, and that money, power, comfort and receival was only for a man. I watched and endured some immensely disturbing experiences, which I won’t say too much more about, as I don’t believe it is helpful for anyone, but I just wanted to echo that this was a home and a life that I was born into, therefore I could never see at the time that this was moulding me, traumatising me, and taking from my child-like innocence.
It became clear that it wasn’t a safe place to express our emotions, never mind have any modelling or understanding of self-regulation. Therefore, I dissociated so much, that I wouldn’t — or couldn’t — speak. No words would come out. All that I had to say wouldn’t help us. The social services didn’t keep us safe with my words, our truths would cause an episode in my father, and I wonder if somehow, deep down; I knew that what I had to say would be so painful, so powerful for anyone to hear from a child, that I felt I needed to hold onto them. But what I did find, was solace in writing. I had lost my voice, but my words were alive and thriving within me. I took myself away to fantasy lands, I turned my fear into mysteries', and my angst into poetry. I locked myself away within the words scribbled on countless pages. I turned it into art, without really knowing the power behind this.
Little Bonnie felt so helpless, all that was left was a primal safety mechanism, that we all have inside of us. To internalise the feelings of others. I took on the feelings of everyone within the house, so to subconsciously make sense out of the chaos. It has been so long now, since we’ve been away from my father, (and he has since passed away.) But this ability to feel the inner workings of another has stayed with me. Without even thinking, I seem to process the body language, the tone, the words articulated, the pain behind their eyes, the stifled breath, the pit in their stomach, and I can see them. Their suffering, their light, and the trueness behind the masks they wear. Living in a Hyper-vigilant fight, flight, freeze state, has formed me into an Empath.
Throughout my life since, I was so outside of my body, seeking purpose and love through that which was outside of me, be it validation in the form of distorted love or distraction- the only ways I knew. First it was alcohol, drugs and partying, then it was toxic relationships that mirrored the narcissistic tendencies of my father, then this bled into trying to take back control through the binge-restrict cycle of Bulimia. After years of these addictions consuming me, I was in the depths of pure darkness, and didn’t see a way out. This was no life. But throughout this disorderly thinking, although my light had dimmed, it was always with me. Calling me back to the home that I’d created inside of myself when me and my sister would shut ourselves away in a dark cupboard, melting into the shadows of our silhouette's. We built a haven within our inner wilderness. I’d locked that part of me away through this self-sabotage, but it was still morphing, growing, a vibrant kaleidoscope that yearned for me to truly, open my eyes to it. I was yearning to feel again; I was so empty, shut off from not only the depths of my pain, but also my un-expressed, child-like joy.
My desire to finally start paying attention to my parts, led me to find meditation. This is when I realised I had never been in my body. I could finally connect to what it felt like to feel the grass beneath my feet. To hear the birds song, to see the intricate patterns which surrounded me in nature, to appreciate the vastness of the skyline, and the diverse seasons that I started to see mirrored my own. I started to run — a meditative, freeing and primal practice for me, in itself. I’d been running away my whole life, but this form of movement felt like I was running to me. Finding meditation, moved me to Yoga, another practice that helped me to embody my feelings as I moved, with my breath, so it didn’t feel so uncontrollable. Then, I began to write again. I journaled everyday on what was coming up for me, on how my day went, and implemented self-care practices like gratitude, acceptance, commitment, and authenticity. I wrote the most painful words, and I turned it into poetry. I’d always known this was a part of me, but I never seemed to realise the cathartic release this could bring, until I became more mindful of it. Before you knew it, I was filling a book a month, and I’d moved onto learning and integrating the practices of shadow-work, and inner-child work. This was my new obsession. Healing.
I began to see, that the work I was doing on myself was rippling out to those around me. I began to attract deep and meaningful connections, smiles, positivity, and I began to naturally fall back from the toxic relationships and family members that were in my life, as I finally; wanted to serve myself. My inner wilderness yearned for solitude. Slow living. Simplicity. Growth. But I couldn’t allow myself to only take it slow, I had a fire burning inside of me, flying embers of creativity, passion, desire, connection and learning. I wanted all that I’d missed out on, needing to catch each dose of inspiration before it morphed into something new.
As I write this, I realise that this may sound easier than it is, or like I’m healed, but of course; we all know it’s not that simple. In hindsight, I realise this high expectation of complete healing that we put onto ourselves, or see in others, Is impossible in the way we think. I still become triggered, I still freeze, I still have dark thoughts sometimes, I still get lost within the wild spaces of my soul. But I have restored my capability to mother myself. And as time moves, I spend less time in the shadows.
I’ve been blending and morphing into my surroundings, into people’s personalities', into the social systems and roles my whole life. I embody the part of myself that can be found in the one looking back at me, so we can better understand each other. It’s not about masking, about pretending. For me, it’s about my truth; that we are all reflections of each other in vast ways, and this mirror within me, feels safe to be seen. I’m incapable of blending into a set mould, incapable of taking one set route, incapable of picking one thing to specialise in, incapable of a set genre, a set audience, or a set personality. I need doses of everything in this lifetime, for me to feel fulfilled. I want to try all forms of art, all forms of travel, all forms of food, I want to understand all forms of people. I am a Chameleon Soul.
“I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me I had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean.” — Lana Del Rey.
As I have expanded, and bared witness to the growth in others, I have seen that those who have a desire to support, hold space, to be a healer of sorts- whether through story-telling, healthcare, art, song, intuitive abilities' or holding therapeutic space; it’s usually those who have have felt the depths of pain and the scars of trauma that yearn to heal others, hold a divine muse inside of them, and carry themselves with grounded empathy. That’s my story. I want nothing more than to be a part of the change in the world, so that we can put a stop to the suffering that children, women and communities endure.
I had my daughter and moved to another country without knowing anybody, which then led me to find a women’s circle here, where the true rawness of our humanness could be expressed, where a village had started to form that I’d never had before, where I was truly seen and honoured through all of my weather, all of my truth, and all of my darkness. This has enlivened the roaring fire that lives amongst my bones, and has woken me up from my slumber. I have wanted nothing more than this, my whole life. The village that has been lost, the safe space to be, the honouring of our gifts, the healing of our sisterhood wounds, but also, our wounding from the misogyny which runs deep, so we can all take back the chances that have been lost.
Along with this, the care and attention that I feel is needed to be given to our children, is profound, so to put an end to the cycle of trauma that I endured as a little babe, and all of the other lost inner children. I believe the nourishment and teachings of emotional-regulation to children, is how we create a world with more harmony, playfulness, healing, open-ness, and authenticity. That is why I’m in the midst of making plans to also hold Children’s Forest School Circles, incorporating mindfulness, story-telling, song, resilience building, and Nature crafting/immersion. I have also written a Children’s Book called: ‘Canvas of Expression — Painting the colours within.’ which is about the journey of Aurora expressing her feelings, with her father, who holds space for our raw emotions and the healthy ways we can express them (through art, nature connection, therapeutic activities, movement, play, and honouring our unique selves, all with child friendly poetic story telling, vibrant pictures, and a free activity pack for the whole family to learn and embody all our true selves and raise healthy, emotionally regulated human beings. — Although this has been written, as I am a stay-at-home mamma warrior, who’s in the midst of building this healing community, I’m yet to be able to invest in the work that’s needed to self-publish.
— If any of you kind souls would like to help with the self-publishing of this book that I believe is really needed in the world, or you’d like to support my dream of building this beautiful community, please consider contributing here: I will be deeply honoured ❤ https://ko-fi.com/wildlyrooted
— You can sign up to have full use of Medium with my link below, for only $5: this will go towards supporting mine and all of the other writers on here, at no added cost to you — Join Medium with my referral link — Bonnie
— Conscious Etsy Shop: https://www.etsy.com/uk/shop/EnchantedForestNook
Thank you dearly for being here, Bonnie ❤
