The Journey Home to Me
Though the first COVID confinement was SO hard, it also did something HUGE for me. Scrolling on Instagram, like the whole world was doing at the same time, and I saw a writing program that was coming, the words ‘birth’ and ‘story’ stood out for me. I took the plunge and joined at the 11th hour. A shift was happening. During the 6 weeks I shared my experience and heard other mothers share back on how they’d also experienced similar feelings. For the first time I felt that I was being seen and heard, I mean REALlY seen and heard. I delved deeper and I began to understand that these feelings of disconnect were not my fault and that it didn’t mean that I was a bad mother. Hormones, the absence/lack of support and inter-generational trauma were all part and parcel for these uncomfortable feelings that were present. I was beginning to gently let go of the guilt, I was beginning to have grace for myself, I was able to see the importance or carving out space and time for myself. I wasn’t to blame, I am not a bad mother.
I’m 30months postpartum (as I write), I remember it like it was yesterday. I couldn’t feel my body, I couldn’t remember how it felt to have my body just to myself. I couldn’t remember how to rest a body, or perhaps I’ve never known what a rested body has ever felt like. I felt uncomfortable, yuk, numb, I felt foreign. I definitely didn’t feel sexy or sensual, those words had left my vocabulary. I didn’t feel connected, I was desperate to feel like me, to feel like a woman. Perhaps it was the first time wearing this soft squidgy body how I wanted to claim that I am a women and not a girl. There, I said it. I wanted to embrace the folds and the softness and I had no desire for my body to feel toned or ‘straight’ I wanted to embrace its curves, a reminder of my journey with its twists and turns. I could see that my body had changed, it felt like I was looking at it for the first time, a girl in awe of transforming. My breasts were larger, they hang and moved as I moved, taking up their rightful space. My hips had widened as they gently opened themselves to the pain and joy of this whole new world, the new and the now; me and mother. I felt the pain as these mountains made space to welcome something huge. An awakening, a reckoning. I heard the call loud and clear, I was ready, I was open to learn and receive.
I had Googled ‘how to be embodied’ and ‘what is embodiment’, I just wasn’t getting it. All I knew was that I wanted to feel my body again, I wanted to feel that it was alive and that it belonged to me. The need felt like an urgency, I couldn’t’ stay lost and open like this any longer, I needed rescuing. I knew this went deeper than my skin and my bones. It went deep to a place I’d never allowed myself to enter. I asked who ever I could, but to no avail. A crumb is all I needed to follow and let my body know I was holding her. I started to show up for myself, making space for what needed to come through. I was coming home to myself.
I heard the call to embody my entry into motherhood, to honor and pay reverence to my body who had carried me through the journey of becoming a Mother. From the physical healing I moved through the motions to then embody my psychological growth and experience. To wake up to, to claim the transformation that was happening and owning all the stories that came with it. Embarking on the journey back to yourself can seem huge and perhaps confusing on where to even start. Perhaps physical embodiment could like like a long hot shower, dancing, walking, running, yoga or else any gentle movement you feel comfortable with. For some it can look like journaling, writing or even seeking safer spaces to speak and share you story and experience. Embodiment does not need to be huge with all the bells and whistles attached, it is a part of us and has been forever. Embodiment for me was a remembering, making space to listen to my needs and trying new ways to integrate my new experiences and staying open and gentle with all the surprises it brings along with it.
I invite you to start small, listen for the call and see what invites you in?
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Stay gentle with yourself.