HEALING | CODEPENDENCY
I’ve Been Searching for You, Dear One, My Entire Adult Life
Finding my way back to you
Remember when we were inseparable, you and I? We were so close that there was no telling us apart. I saw you smiling back at me when I looked at my reflection in the mirror. When happiness sparked in you, I felt joy. When sadness spilled in your heart, I cried tears. When anger took its rightful place in your belly, I shouted and stomped my feet.
Oh, I remember those days when the you, on my inside, matched the me, on the outside. Our experience of the world was pure, without judgment or projection. Wholeness defined us.
I think I was a few months shy of my eighth birthday when I decided you no longer fit the image the outside world demanded. I had been working very hard at being a good girl and your way of being just didn’t match who others wanted me to be.
The grownups didn’t like it when you spoke your mind, so I sewed your mouth shut to keep you quiet. The watercolors cracked in their pots after I decided you were no good at art. My inner clown went to sleep when I saw the look of displeasure on my mother’s face.
I had to hide you because I wanted my parents to love me. My grandparents to be proud of me. My friends to choose me, and my teachers to reward me. I needed their love and approval, you see. I needed it to survive.
I grew older and you stayed small inside me. The me on the outside no longer matched the you on the inside and soon, the memory of you became as delicate as a strand of silk.
Looking back now, I see the times you rebelled and banged on my heart’s door until your fists bloomed purple. It was you who broke the rules and snuck out in the early morning to meet my first love. You, who insisted I move out from my parents’ house at sixteen. You, who acted out, drank booze and had sex, cheated and lied, defied all that was decent. You wanted out under all circumstances, until one day, dear one, I finally began to hear your sad song of longing and turned my ear in your direction.
I heard your plea for freedom. I knelt at the cave’s mouth and surrendered to the pain of having lost you so long ago. I’m here, I whispered and readied for your return.
It’s been five years since I stood at the threshold of that cave. Sixty months of curious excavation. 1825 days of peeling back the layers of projections painted on you by my parents, my ancestors, my culture, and society.
With each new layer revealed, I see all my warts, scars, and weeping wounds. I do not turn away in disgust and shame and instead, begin to see the goodness and honesty in you.
Be free! Be me! Is my new motto and I wake each day excited to discover another forgotten shard of stardust that has made its way to the surface of my authentic self.
I unearth my preferences, those that I gagged in childhood. I choose integrity above all else. I crave truth in all things. I harness honesty, that clear diamond of communication. I write by candlelight. I sing off-key and draw badly and all the while laugh at my efforts with you by my side.
I welcome my feelings and let them play out. I pay homage to their power to heal what ails my flesh. I see the world through my lens of courage and make gratitude my spiritual practice. I accept all parts of me, the sweet and the gritty, the loud and the quiet, the silly and the serious.
Don’t misunderstand, I still stumble sometimes. I compare myself to others and forget that we’re all unique. I deny my body the rest it needs and forget that some days, my energy is better served going inward.
I keep molting and growing, discovering more of my original self beneath each layer shed. With each trigger healed, with each wound sealed, I open ever wider to the me the Universe intended. I feel you take your rightful place inside my heart and when I see my reflection in the mirror, you are smiling back.
Kunal Mehra recently reminded me of why I write on Medium. I’m sure you’ll agree.
And if you need a giggle, read Debra Groves Harman, MEd. You won’t be disappointed and your funny bone will be satisfied.
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