Authenticity, Originality Insecurities…. Oh My!

I’ve been sitting around with so many words in my heart and soul it’s time to put the pen to paper.

Again.

This subject has been sitting (pretty fucking) ill with me for a while and I have simply been unable to shake it.

So that’s where journaling and blogging come in for my healing prescription and therapy.

Lucky you. πŸ™ƒ

If any of you have followed my work and writing you may have the slightest inclination that my life history has been riddled with self-confidence, self-esteem, and major insecurity issues.

These were birthed from being tossed aside like an old sock constantly over the duration of my life beginning when I was a little girl.

For me what that taught me from a young age is the brutiful (Yes 😌 that’s a word) habit of people pleasing and trying so desperately to change myself to be something, ANYTHING other than what I was, was chipping away at the core of my being each and every time I sacrificed my truth for being accepted.

It was always engrained in my poor heart that what I was, wasn’t good enough.

If I was good enough, then I would have been loved and accepted and at least someone’s top 948383737 pick.

It was from this that I started into my juvenile years completely unsure of who or what I was or what I stood for.

I was so turned upside down by then and as time clicked on it only grew worse.

The older I got the more difficult it became to figure out how to fit in.

High School???…

Good lord.

It had my head spinning watching groups of females say they were all best friends but then watching them vehemently and viciously backstab their own brethren.

I fucking hated it.

All I knew at that point was that I didn’t fit in and I was pretty sure I didn’t want to.

But that left me so severely unsure of myself going into adulthood that I can look back and see how I morphed into whatever group was around me for the time being.

I always felt like I didn’t belong though.

I always knew it deep down.

And instead of accept the fact that I am a unique and one of a kind spiritual, fluttery being…. I shoved my true, TRUE self in a box never to be seen again because it was easier to try and morph to what was around me to feel pseudo-acceptance rather than swallow the bitter pill of not being loved and accepted for my truth.

I tasted enough of not being loved and accepted growing up.

I will spare the details of the disaster that was my marriage because while it was not a pretty sight, it afforded me the most INCREDIBLE transformation I could have dreamed of and more.

So fast forward a few years of coming into my own, doing some major ass internal work, finding out what makes my soul tick and diving head first into a relationship with God and supplementing it with copious amounts of energy Healing…

Here I am πŸ™‚

I’ve started to live my dream.

I’ve gained confidence to step out of my comfort zone and really find my passions.

I have felt the tables turn on being able to be authentically me while still moving forward despite that small fear that I may be too much for some still residing in my heart.

Ive begun living bold and pretty (peacefully) unapologetic about the things I choose to do and most specifically the people and energy I choose to surround my heart with.

I’m gaining more and more confidence to really allow my true essence to shine through in what I do and how I speak and write even if it does involve profuse use of the word “fuck”. πŸ™ƒ

I’m doin me harder and more fully and boldly than I ever have and I have fought pretty fucking hard (there’s that “F” word again ☺️) to get where I am.

This transformation has come with some turbulence but the feeling of living my true, authentic self FAR outweighs the downsides.

But here’s the thing that’s currently catching me that I was having troubles making some sense out of.

I have spent my whole ENTIRE life overcoming my own demons, my own darkness, my own traumas and my own bullshit to be where I am today.

But now it’s hard when I see I am being duplicated.

And not in a slightly unnoticeable, it could be a coincidence kinda way either.

But in a way that causes me to flinch in a little bit of defensive fucking fury over.

I’ve tried to talk myself up, down, around and every which way backwards about this.

I also know that what I focus on will gain momentum and although I try with all my law of attraction loving, spirit heart I could not help but feel major resistance to this.

I don’t know if it’s because I am so protective of my newfound being and that I have fought tooth and nail to become this version of me that when someone just steps in and replicates what’s taken me years to emerge as and be, it hits a nerve.

A major, MAJOR part of my transformation and something I value as highly as fluttering and freedom is authenticity.

It was being scarred in the drama bullshit that was high school and fake relationships at work and a these pseudo-sisterhood fake relationship building sales bullshit that inundates our every day life that I am ADAMANT… adamant, adamant, ADAMANT about truth.

And depth.

In each of us and in our relationships.

But I’m ubber adamant about hey fucker… I fought long and hard to be me and finally show up to be me, why don’t you just not be me.

Mmmmmkay 😌

Why don’t you be you the one you were before you started to emulate my words and actions.

But 😣

Because I know that whenever something is brought up in me that elicits this big of a feeler it’s time to go into the vault and find which old wound has been reopened.

I did.

And here’s what I found.

The feeling I am having by being replicated triggers a major ass insecurity in me of a timeless pattern in my life of being replaced by a newer make and model.

It’s been repeated in a vicious cycle since the onset of my life.

I was tossed aside when dead mom (who wasn’t dead then πŸ™ƒ) found my stepdad and subsequently sorta forgot she had kids πŸ€”

Or maybe we got in the way of her finally finding what her poor soul had been longing for for her entire life is a better way to put it.

And because dead mom was one of those AMAZING (πŸ‘ˆπŸΎflagrant lie) moms that liked to play games with split custody and never let me see my Dad, I grew up feeling like he found something better than me. Too.

If you know old life you know the truth about the demise of me being Wife #2.

Down to the being replaced at the job I was at for 18 years. (HUGE huge huge blessing so no worries πŸ˜‰).

But the pattern is there in black and white, branded into my soul.

I also know we are presented with the same lessons (UNlucky us 😣) until we learn what it is we are supposed to learn from it and grow THROUGH it.

So what does this all mean?

It means to me that being replicated triggers the age old wound of fear of being replaced and chosen for something better thus making me feel like a worthless, failure and crippling my self-esteem, self-confidence and how I subsequently view and value myself.

I have had this swirling in my heart space for far too many years and I am MORE than ready to heal and release this.

This is a childhood wound.

When this feeling comes up it’s basically that little girl that first got her soul trampled on and destroyed trying to remind me of how that feels and to try and prepare me for getting hurt again.

But that’s the thing about our psyches and our vaults (the place where old ouches are stored).

I’m not that little girl anymore.

I’ve grown sooooo very much.

I’ve healed so much.

We don’t have to keep listening to those old stories about ourselves.

I have learned that people pleasing isn’t in fact beneficial to anyone. In fact it’s a huge ass abomination of our very soul.

I’ve learned that I will be too much for some people and not enough for others and that’s MORE than ok.

Like super duper ok.

Over this last few years I have learned to love myself how I so desperately sought to be loved by others and how crucial this is to ALLLLLLL of our existence.

Self-love isn’t just some nifty thing to hashtag and post memes about.

It’s the real fucking deal.

So after I fluttered around in the vault and got down to the root of the big issue I am able to walk away with these truths:

It might still irk me to see my originality be duplicated. But not in the same disgust, fear and other lower vibrational feels as it did before.

I am no longer afraid of someone else being a better version of me. Because I know if they were busy worrying about being the best version of them in a confident manner they wouldn’t be emulating others.

I know this because I too, was guilty of that in the past.

It won’t cause me to fear that I am going to flashback to that 5 year old constantly getting tossed aside by her mother and having someone or something better picked over her.

Because no matter how hard anyone tries they can never truly be us.

And that’s our real super power.

I will live every single day of the rest of my life intrigued by how what seems to be a “them” issue, never really is.

It might SEEM like they are the ones that need to change and be fixed but it’s never about them.

It’s always about what they are triggering in US that needs to be acknowledged, accepted and released.

And man, that’s hard fucking work.

It was so much easier getting pissed about being imitated than it was to dig in my own darkness and wounds.

I know one thing for sure life was sure a lot more simple before I took on this big ass spiritual journey.

But I will tell you that life has been much more brilliant and fulfilling since I started to REALLY learn about, love and accept me.

All parts of me.

I shine the light tonight and forever to invite all others to do the same.

Massive (self) love and acceptance.

Xoxo

a. Danielle

Advertisements

How waitressing has shown me some old wounds…

I haven’t been wordy for a while.

Well that’s a lie. Ive been wordy cause that’s who I am on a cellular level 😜

I just haven’t officially worded in blog form lately.

So here goes:

Something rattled my little heart the other day and it’s through writing I am able to journal and heal.

I waitressed at my girlfriends bar the other night. I can count on one hand how many times I have ever waitressed and they have ALL been at her place.

Most the times it’s been slanging beers at peeps for poker runs so it wasn’t all that intricate.

I have less than zero experience in the food serving, waitressing arena. So I’m probably admittedly, not the greatest.

As with most new things people try they are probably going to stumble around until they get their bearings and then get better with experience.

I wasn’t doing too terrible in my own eyes. But for some reason I can’t let go of overhearing a girl at a table I was getting an order from make a snark ass comment about me.

I had taken one families order from that table and this other girl was there with her daughter. I was going to get her order in a second after I yelled out to the guys in charge of grilling how many burgers we would be needing so they could get their food faster by giving them a heads up.

But Miss Snarky said something to another girl at the table to the effect of “OH You probably over did it for her (me) she can’t handle that much (order taking)”….

It was busy in there and whatever. I was able to ignore it. Until I wasn’t. Of course, because it ate on me.

It’s sitting heavy with me for several reasons. The first is I have less than zero experience waitressing. That was probs my first time doing it with food involved.

I could never imagine mocking someone for working out for the first time and not having a clue what they were doin even though I am skilled and have years of experience in that arena.

So it sits heavy on me when people mock others.

Second, I wanted to tell her maybe the fact that I get overwhelmed and stressed out is because I have a huge fear of fucking up someone else’s things or business for them.

And that stemmed from being a little girl probably the age 6 with my step dad. I was in the garage with him when he was doing some carpentry work. I accidentally nudged his trim he was cutting and made him mess up and the next thing I know he’s exploded, cussing and throwing the wood all around the garage and it terrified me.

That was the beginning of years and years worth of being told I was stupid for not knowing how to do something when I have never been shown. I have IMMENSE anxiety of trying new things because of those old traumatic experiences.

To another person it might not seem like a big deal. But to me and my intricate making it is.

The immensity at which my stepdad blew up that day made my little 6 year old shoulders fear that I was going to get him fired, we weren’t going to be able to afford rent and we were going to be homeless.

I was never told that things were going to be alright.

For my sensitive heart it’s hard for me to understand in a time where things are already hard enough in life why another person would willfully and recklessly wish to undermine another with a complete absence of any compassion.

Unfortunately, that comment about my waitressing isn’t the first slew of toxic garbage to come out of her mouth towards me.

But it’s getting old.

I’m not even going to lie to you. I may be spiritual and woo as fuck, but that little 6 year old hurt girl in me wants to rip this miserable person a new asshole.

It makes me envision myself telling her about herself and unleashing the fury on her.

I reflected over how her comments take me back to an unpleasant place in my heart about my life growing up.

It also made me realize the power of our words.

It also made me realize the power of my defensiveness. It’s no fun hearing critical things about yourself especially if it’s in an arena that’s a major sensitivity landmine.

It took me a while from evolving from where I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself to really sitting back and asking myself if I really believed what she said about me to be truth?

I laughed then because I realized that while I might not be the worlds greatest waitress, God has given me numerous other gifts that far outweigh trying to please a seemingly miserable, shallow female with a cheeseburger.

I was gifted with a intuition and a passion for helping heal others from not only their own self imposed suffering BUT from pseudo-bullying just like that poor girl was doing to me with her hate spewing.

It became comical to me that while she was mocking ME for my lackluster skill in an area I have zero experience in, that I am actually fully capable of helping to illuminate pathways of healing in others from shit people like her cause.

No I’m not a fucking waitress.

So what now though?

I see her EVERY. DAMN. TIME. I am at my friends place.

If I have words with her she will make the situation more miserable than her mere presence already does.

I know hate cannot drive out hate.

And I also know that hurting people, hurt people. She’s miserable inside. Clearly unhappy.

The best thing I can come up to fight back is to send her love.

But let’s be real… it’s hard. REAL fucking hard to send someone love when they do nothing but terrorize you.

So this will be an exercise in being human for me.

Will I fail??! OHHH I’m German, Irish, Bohunk and was gifted with the shortest fuse on earth only after Gramps and dead mom once it’s been lit ☺️

I really imagine saying things to her like this:

So while it may look like the lights are on but no ones home. I actually have LOTS goin on. It’s just that most those things should probably stay nestled safely in my brain. πŸ™ƒπŸ™‚

I feel better writing about it and reading this myself I know that I am not that 6 year old girl anymore. I realize my defensiveness stems from those old experiences. I don’t need to retaliate in defensiveness.

Even though miss snarkypants is unpleasant it has shown me areas in myself that I need to come to with more compassion about myself. It’s shown me contrast of how NOT to be towards others.

It’s also showing me that while it’s fun to future fake scenes of me clawing her peepers out, that it’s actually more crucial to be even more light for others so that they don’t have to feel less than and can grow with confidence in any new endeavors they try.

It reminds me that there will always be opposition, cruelty and recklessness but to keep showing up with more light.

And finally it reminds me the importance of compassion.

To ourselves and others. Even when it’s hard….

ESPECIALLY when it’s hard.

With all my absolute love and light.

Xoxo

a. Danielle

How my own self-love journey allowed me to heal from hating Dead Mom…

When I think about it I realize that I have spent the majority of my life vehemently hating my (now dead) mom.

It’s been a hot minute since I have sat down and let words come to life. I think it’s time to give credit where credit is due.

I need to talk about my relationship with Dead mom.

My little soul has done this lovely thing where it’s locked up things in a vault and gives me occasional access to memories.

I have zero memories of a loving nature that have to do with my dead mom.

From as far back as I can remember my Grandma Betty (aka Neen) raised most of us kids. She was the source of any maternal love I ever received as a child.

Dead mom was absent physically and emotionally.

I spent weeks at friends houses growing up. I pretended in my soul I think that I was always part of their families.

It was a coping/numbing mechanism for me to disassociate from her, before I got into the real drugs and numbing in adolescence.

I read something in a book the other day and completely related to it.

“Dear God, I love my family but I wonder if you tried out anyone else before you sent me to them.”

I’m not even really sure why my Dead mom procreated. I was certain that she was incapable of feeling.

But I was wrong.

She was just incapable of feeling towards us kids.

I had older siblings that eventually went and lived with their dad and our Grandma Betty.

But I was the (un)lucky pawn in her game of life to play house and act like a happy family with my stepdad.

Their relationship was….

Um.

Tenacious and passionate and all things inappropriate for raising a child.

As I reflect back I am able to see the reason she did some of the things that did. It was her very own personal search for love and acceptance.

But she was looking in all the wrong places.

All of our enlightened, spiritual teachers, God and everyone instructs us to turn within to find home, love, acceptance and wisdom.

I’m afraid in her case, even she was afraid to look within for fear of what was lurking in that domain.

It was from a very early age that it became apparent that us kids were not a priority. I also learned really young that I was going to be shoved aside when the next best thing came along.

I went on to be in relationships that mimicked that same lack of love, lack of feeling valued or worthy, and getting abandoned, tossed aside and replaced.

Growing up she never let me see my real dad. That did a number on me also. It felt like even he didn’t want me.

There must be something wrong with me if my own birth mother didn’t love me and always had something better to do and my dad didn’t want to spend time with me.

I learned later he didn’t have much say.

There’s a special place in hell for women who play custody games with their children and exes.

I am a product of where kids being in their mothers custody was NOT in the best interest of the child.

I’m a firm believer that there needs to be better balance in that arena. I see it everyday and it makes me ill.

Mother’s with an inability to love, but just play the part are so incredibly damaging to a child’s soul.

The tumultuous relationship that was her marriage taught me how to be alone and feel safe that way. I never wanted to be near them and their hostile love environment.

From the moment I got home from school till the absolute last possible second I was out on my little dirt bike with my German Shepard out in the country where we lived and I didn’t need people.

The ones I did have left me feeling deflated and disappointed so I learned to be my own best friend young.

I was always so embarrassed or scared to have friends over because I never knew what fight would ensue or what type of crazy train Dead mom would be on.

So I pretty much isolated myself.

My first love was basketball and pretty much the only connection I had with my stepdad. That was the only thing I really had to love.

Both him and dead mom were on a journey to find love no matter who was forsaken for the cause.

But even then Dead mom always made me feel like a burden or nuisance having to go to games.

Which was where the seed was born for me to feel like burden and nuisance in adulthood as well.

I used to dread having to ask for help or favors because of this. It was much later in life that I learned there is a whole world of peoples out there that actually have feelings and love helping others out.

That was simply not what I was used to.

Things really went south when my oldest niece was born. Until then I was the baby of the family.

I knew I could get love from Grandma Betty. And she was my only source of it.

I recall my niece spending a shit ton of time with us. It makes me cringe to say this or even write it out loud but I watched as my dead mom would parade my baby niece around in her little carrier with my stepdad as she acted like my niece was their child.

And I was tossed aside like a used sock.

I was 12 when my niece was born and that was a turning point for me.

I hate to even admit this but I hated my niece. She was so readily getting the love and affection that I yearned so terribly for.

It made me wonder even further what was wrong with me.

It built a system of belief that I was unworthy of love or positive attention.

So what does one do when that happens to them? Well, in my case I started going to find love and affection in other places.

And it didn’t necessarily mean a person. I dove face first into experimenting with Booze first, then every drug I could get my adolescent little hands on.

By the time the whole faking my nieces as their own baby thing came along I was engulfed in full fledged seething, tenacious hatred to the women I had to call mom.

I hated the joy she had in her face when she would be handling my niece with my stepdad in the living room while I was virtually unseen.

Looking back I realized that my poor body, heart and soul were riddled with so much hate it should have made me ill.

I started going down hill in a big way. I ended up quitting basketball for drugs.

I was completely disgusted and disrespectful to dead mom because I couldn’t stand the sight of her.

We fought terrible.

Sometimes the fights would end violently.

I fucking HATED HER GUTS.

Even typing this I feel some of that latent burn.

I ended up getting kicked out when I was almost 17 I think. She came home from going out to eat with my stepdad and caught me and some friends who drove over playing a drinking game I learned from watching HER and her friend play one time.

You use an ice tray and try and get a quarter in a hole in the tray. The further away you got the quarter in you got to give away that many drinks from the ice cube tray but you had to use a small straw to suck the booze out.

She caught us and I think she seen the cut off straw and thought we were doing blow (cocaine). Which we weren’t.

That time anyway. Besides I didn’t need a straw I was plenty good without the use of training wheel type devices.

We got in a huge ass fight and my stepdad had to peel us apart. I bolted.

I ran and hid. I eventually snuck back into the basement when they didn’t know. I overheard her call my dad and told him to come get me.

I knew help was on the way.

When he showed up I came flying out of the basement grabbed some stuff and we took off.

Ironically enough, he was living with a girlfriend and she didn’t want anything to do with me.

Shocker. Another woman letting me down. This would begin the fledgling seed for feeling that women were unsupportive, unreliable, Crazy and a bunch of other heinous things.

So we had to live with my uncle for a bit until Dad moved from Fremont to Elkhorn so I could continue school.

I’ll never forget the Monday going back to school after that eventful weekend. We had those standardized tests and I went to sign in and gave them the last name I had been using since Dead mom and stepdad got married.

The teacher pulled me aside and said I had to go talk to the school counselor.

Apparently, I was not legally adopted and my name was never legally my stepdads last name.

Dead mom in all her craziness would just randomly change our last names to whomever she was married to at the time.

I later found out that she did this same bullshit to my siblings.

The guidance counselor told me that dead mom called that morning and informed them that my last name was to be changed to my dads real last name. But gave me no heads up about that.

I was fucking MORTIFIED. And the nails in the coffin were sealed of me ever having any sort of respect or anything for her ever again.

I fucking loathed her with every ounce of my being.

For the first few weeks of living with Dad I pretty much was a reckless teen. But the most amazing thing happened when I realized that I didn’t have to run and hide or numb and drug myself because the environment and the person I was with gave me security, belonging, acceptance.

For the first time I was actually being seen. I changed dramatically. I never lived with Dead mom again.

Our relationship would muster on as I transitioned into adulthood. She was still so fucked up, Crazy, and untrustworthy.

The final straw came when she didn’t come to my super small wedding.

I got the scissors out and snipped away at that relationship. It was for my highest good to rid myself and my life of her toxic energy.

I didn’t speak to her from 2007 until 2011 until I found out she was gonna die.

Turns out energetically that if you harbor a bunch of bullshit in your soul like she did it will manifest in the form of illness. And she got a doozy.

Stage 4 metastatic lung cancer killed her in just under 6 months.

Y’all know I’m about as woo as they come so yes, I most definitely believe that she brought that disease on that took her to meet her maker because all off that harmful energy she put out her entire life.

Smoking contributed, yes. But being a menace like that will have consequences.

So what does my own self-love journey have anything to do with being able to look at dead mom through a more compassionate lens?

Because in my own spiritual journey I know that we seek love and acceptance. But what we are generally never taught until we fuck up royally a bunch, is that we must learn to love and accept ourselves first and foremost.

We are never taught to really be our own best friend. We look to external sources to fill spaces in us that our own selves need to be filling in healthful, uplifting, soul-filling, empowering ways.

I recall Grandma Betty (dead moms mom) telling me when Dead mom was dying that she had deep regrets when it came to mom.

She mentioned that mom was never meant to have siblings. She had a younger sister that rocked her world when she was born.

She was replaced… Sound familiar? Ya. Because that’s exactly what she did to me.

Grandma told me Dead mom really spiraled when grandpa was gone all the time trucking. She went looking for love in a bunch of wrong places.

She loved her daddy.

Got married young. Got pregnant young.

It was all a part of her quest for love and belonging.

I will give credit where credit is due.

She loved my stepdad more than a person possibly could, and then some. His first wife wanted him back after he started dating my mom allegedly from stories I have heard. I distinctly recall fights going on between the two women.

Which is ubber funny because now my stepdad is back dating his first wife and she does my hair.

Sorry (notsorry) Dead mom πŸ™ƒ

But that’s the power of forgiveness and not holding grudges.

Watching my stepdad struggle to this day with Dead mom being dead makes me sort of yearn for someone to love me like that.

He knew her craziness and the mess of stuff we uncovered when she died and STILL loves her unconditionally.

That’s all this was for her. A journey to and for love. For her it didn’t matter that innocent bystanders were forsaken.

Namely, me.

But looking backwards with this light helps me ease the burden and be able to forgive.

Holding hatred for her is like me drinking poison and expecting her to die. OH wait, she is dead πŸ€£πŸ™ƒ

It serves no one. Plus knowing what I know now about energy and emotions and all things woo, I don’t want those lower vibrational feels roaming around in my heart or soul.

Also, looking back at this helps me see where my path to love was going. It helped direct me and get me looking in the right places. But not after spending 33 years looking in all the wrong ones.

I forgive her for everything because had I not gone through some of that shit I wouldn’t have the strong feelings I do now in regards to kids.

I know to teach and inspire and impress upon EVERYONE the importance of learning to source love and acceptance internally.

That means every part of us inside. The things we keep locked up and hidden in shame and regret. The scars. All of it deserves our own love and acceptance.

Anything we rely on that is external can be taken away. But when we are sovereign inside ourselves we are able to manage that.

I am able to extend a bit of gratitude towards her now. Her journey to love overlapped with my journey to coming home to me. The person I was before all this stuff happened to me.

It was through my self-love journey that my relationships outside of me started being transformed. Even with dead peeps.

As I celebrated my 36 birthday I dedicate this year to being more me than I have ever been.

Maybe that means divulging more of my deepest darkests void of fear of judgement from others. Maybe it means standing alone more than before because the priority of being authentic and unapologetically me supersedes the need to simply belong now.

I’m not sure of many things but I know this, when we are able to view others and their behaviors as their own journey to find themselves and to be loved it makes it much more easy to be forgiving and compassionate. I’m not always perfect at this but I’m moving in the right direction.

Enough for now.

Every ounce of my being… ❣️

a. Danielle

I missed a dead person today.

I missed a dead person today.

This might not seem like a big deal to anyone else but to me it is.

I wouldn’t say I pride myself on being good at dead people, but I’m pretty good at it.

I coined 2011 “The Year of the Dead People” for me. Not to be confused with 2012 being “The Year of the Black Cloud” πŸ™‚

My beloved mother in law died at 8:42am on 2/2/11. Neen Aka Grandma Betty AKA dead moms mom died on dead moms birthday 8/11/11. Then dead mom took the flutter out of her earthly body about the same time in the morning a few weeks later on 9/2/11.

This made me really good at dead people.

When dead mom was going through her cancer treatment I was the one that went to the appointments and had to reiterate what the drs were saying to my stepdad who was in denial about imminent death of his soul mate.

I forced the drs to cut the bullshit and tell me the straight up non fluffy facts. I knew my mom was going to die. I had a funeral for her long before she crossed over.

I was numb.

Neen was obese. Her body had long given up on her. She couldn’t get around and had horrible knees to boot. She was supposed to have a simple knee surgery to repair a botched job. She got sepsis and died.

My heart and soul are made up a little differently than the average bear. I believe heavily in spirit and know that our dead people are constantly around us in their non physical form.

With Neen I was half relieved when she ditched her body. It was hard seeing her the way she was on earth. She had a boat load of pills she was always taking and it was pretty excruciating to be see.

Of course I’d rather had her in a healthy body where she could be active and happy and spoiling all of us grandkids that she pretty much raised.

My view on death and dying is very liberal. I don’t fear it for myself or for others. I know I will see them again. And I know things always happen for a reason.

However, today something strange happened.

I was moving and noticed that on my beloved night stand that Grandma Betty made me for me there was some handwriting on the bottom of it. I never noticed this before.

<<<<<<<<<<

it was little note from my grandma. I don’t know what it was about that note or the writing but I became overwhelmed with emotion. It was as if I could feel her fill the entire room up.

This took me by surprise because I don’t get emotional. I’m not attached to dead peoples “things” or property. I was really taken aback.

I finished moving and putting stuff away but I couldn’t kick thinking about the feeling that I had.

I reflected further and realized that there is a possibility that while I have always coined myself at being good at dead people what I was actually good at was putting up walls around my heart so I wouldn’t have to feel.

I am far enough along in my spiritual journey to know that we are simply unable to selectively numb things.

I must say that building up a Berlin Wall around my heart to numb is MUCH better tactic than my previous go to combos such as Xanax + wine or Ambien + any boozy treat.

It was weird feeling this way though. I found myself wondering if this was just a short glimpse of what other people who grieve feel like well after their loved ones are gone.

I recall Dad telling me that this thanksgiving was hard on him because it was the first year his mom wasn’t on this earthly plane.

But I remember telling him that I guess I could be thankful because even though I suffered great loss in a short amount of time I don’t have any residual sorrow from it.

Or do I?

Over this last year I have embarked on a journey to embrace self-love. Through this process I KNOW I have knocked down some barriers within me that restricted me from loving myself and in turn prevented me from truly loving others.

I loved. But at an arms distance.

I could arguably say I didn’t much love me at all. Which was the root of the problem.

As my heart wall gets removed a brick at a time I can attest to the fact that new fresh feelings are coming in.

Tonight for instance really rocked me a bit. I was uncomfortable because I wasn’t used to feeling so fully.

I look back and see when the first brick of my heart wall was put up. It was when my beloved mother in law died.

I was fucked up. I watched my husband spiral from his loss. And I dove face first into his Ambien which was the onset of my drug induced heart wall building phase of life.

I think we all do this to a certain extent. We deal with trauma in our own unique ways. My emotional intellect was lackluster so I turned to drugs to cope.

While I was drugging myself my internal Bob the builder was building a fortress around my heart so I didn’t have to feel once I kicked the drug numbing mechanism.

It worked. But it didn’t. I blocked so much love from flowing in and I can see that now.

It wasn’t terrible feeling that tiny moment where I actually missed my grandma. It was actually quite beautiful after I thought about it.

It felt good to feel. And I have been doing a lot more of that lately in my journey.

I think the problem with us is that sometimes it’s hard to sit with our shit. It’s hard to handle those lower vibe feelings. I think we need work on being able to navigate and allow them instead of pushing them under the rug or numbing ourselves out to avoid them.

I know beyond a reasonable doubt that because of the transformative work I have been going through and the self love journey I have embarked on that I am able to feel a broader spectrum of emotions.

I am the happiest, most peaceful, empowered, sovereign, joyful version of me that I have ever, EVER been in my entire existence.

If a small side effect of that is feeling a vast array of emotions more fully to be able to access this level of living I have evolved to, then so be it.

I might even go on to say that for the first time since she’s died I could really feel her presence and energy.

So fuck this heart wall.

I invite anyone whose ready to join me to start working on taking down their heart walls and any other barriers we have to allow love to flow more freely.

It starts with us though. Love begins and ends with us.

I can see where trauma had hardened me. And that’s not how I want to live moving forward.

Emotions are not bad. It’s the judgement we place on them when we are feeling them that attaches a negative connotation.

2017 was a year of major demolition for walls and barriers against Love. My transformation because of this has been nothing short of phenomenal.

2018 is going to be amazing.

My prayer is that we are each able to tap more deeply into our heart space and access the parts that allow for true transformation.

Enough for now.

a. Danielle ❣️

What hating Dead Mom taught me about my relationship with myself…

I figured it’s time to get down and dirty with my Dead Mom Chronicles.

Allow me to introduce her and share my relationship with her to you.

I love when peeps who read my work come up to me and ask me why I call “Dead Mom” – Dead Mom πŸ™ƒ

They tip toe around it and it brings me a smile inside.

The reason I call her dead mom is… (wait for it…) because she’s dead.

It’s truly that simple. Now.

My brain is highly creative and I am borderline repulsed and repelled by being mainstream and “normal” and I love nicknaming shit.

I nickname friends so much that I go to tag them in a funny meme on IG and am like why the hell cant I pull up my girl Last Tuesday whose real name is Amanda. πŸ€ͺ

It’s just what I do.

DM (Dead mom) and I have had a destructive, tumultuous “relationship” at best. I put quotes because I don’t even think we can refer to it as a relationship.

It was because of her that I vowed to myself that I would go to the grave childless before I brought a baby into this world if I couldn’t protect them better than she ever protected us kids.

I was the youngest and by the time shit got to me I suffered for everything she had done as a child and teenager and everything my older siblings had done as well.

I’m not sure what she ever wanted to do with us kids. I’m judging by the age that DM was at the birth of my oldest sibling, that she wasn’t planned.

I’ve found myself often thinking that she should have been on some sort of “Do not reproduce” list.

As the years clicked over it got worse and worse. I didn’t realize it at the time but I had an excruciating amount of venom and hatred brewing inside of me towards her.

When my niece was born I was shoved aside so that her and my stepdad could play family while I was tossed away like a used sock.

It was because of this that I had engrained in me that I was worthless and that eventually everything would abandon me and I’d be replaced (with a newer make and model 😜).

It was because of the limiting belief systems that were built in me during those crucial developmental years that I would go on in life to make detrimental decisions that cost me immensely.

I stumbled along the years trying to salvage something that resembled a relationship with her. Every time I spoke with her I felt drained, deflated, angry, yucky etc.

I couldn’t put my finger on it but I knew in the depths of my soul that even though this person gave birth to me I couldn’t allow her in my life.

The last straw came when I got married. I had a SMALL small wedding that was very informal because by that time between her training and the person that I was marrying I didn’t think I was worthy or deserving of anything more than the crumbs I was accepting. Because hey, crumbs were better than nothing, right?!!

NO. OMG no.

She made an excuse that she couldn’t make it to her daughters wedding. I was the only one so far that had gotten married.

I would find out later after she died that she told my stepdad that they weren’t going to be back in time for it. She told me a different story. Both were lies. Which became obvious to me over the years that lies were essentially a form of oxygen for her.

I cut off communication with her cold turkey. No answered phone calls, emails or texts. Any cards I received I made Mr. Good open them just to make sure she didn’t put something in it like my birth certificate or some shit because she would do goofy things.

That’s really when she became dead mom to me.

I got married in September of 2007.

I didn’t speak to her, call her, accept her email invites to get into a bullshit headlock tango. Nothing.

It wasn’t until St. Pattys Day 2011 that I would see her again. She was sick and scared in the hospital and both my grandma Neen (DM’s mom) and stepdad left me messages saying that DM was in the hospital and that they needed me.

That whole debacle is another blog post for another day. ☘️

Was it hard? Fuck yes it was.

I had to mourn the loss of a relationship my soul yearned to have. That EVERY fucking kid should have, but some of us don’t get the pleasure of receiving.

I had to be on the outside of my siblings still being in contact with her and trying to not make things awkward for them.

But the important thing that space allowed me to do was to be authentic to myself in the name of disappointing others. It allowed me the space to start healing and letting the venom I had towards her slowly seep from my body.

I learned later that I had built up a wall around my heart because of that relationship with her. I was then able to protect myself from the rampant abuse and torture she had inflicted on my soul.

But what I didn’t realize and ALLLLLL of us need to learn is that we cannot selectively dismantle our heart wall for one thing and keep it up for others.

When we make a wall, it blocks everything good. It prevents us from sending AND receiving from others but most importantly to ourselves.

This translated into me not being able to fully love myself. Or even remotely love myself.

This disconnected me from everything. I was numb. Because numb saved me. But numb also kept me from experiencing the bliss that comes from falling in love with my true authentic self and then eventually others. It kept me in abusive relationships well after the expiration date.

Because that’s what’s building heart walls and numbing does to us. On one edge of the sword it protects us. On the other it prevents us from feeling brilliant, euphoric feelings of love and joy.

The love I was yearning for was inside me all along. I had just built barriers up against it.

It was through my certificate training for becoming a self love guide that I was able to see the broad scope of what hating her had inevitably done to ME.

Theres that saying that when you hate someone it’s like you drinking poison and expecting the other person to die. It’s SO FUCKING TRUE.

I can’t go back and change my relationship or the things I have done in my life. But what I can do is take my experiences armed with what I have learned in my Self-love guide program and use that to be a beacon of light out in the world.

Dead mom and are are at a really good place right now. I know that even though she is really dead she still heals off my forgiveness towards her and I continually, most influentially, heal myself.

Forgiveness is a tool from the divine. It’s life changing. In fact, if someone had to ask me what the most pivotal thing I have used is and it would be forgiveness.

What transpired from me hating her and nailing her to the cross without forgiveness was my ability to turn inward and do the same to me. I was unable to forgive myself for perceived failures with as much tenacity as I held DM to the fire with.

My relationship with dead mom was purely a mirror for what was really going on inside of me. It was reflecting my relationship with myself.

It was much easier to blame her for shit. She was purely a vessel to evoke these feelings that I didn’t know how to process.

But now I understand the dynamic of forgiveness and vow to use my experience to help illuminate these concepts for others. Healing and forgiveness are good. They are both gracious and divine.

I was thinking about Dead Mom all holiday weekend. I see others sharing their bits about missing their loved ones who have crossed over. It dawned on me that I don’t have that shared feeling. I never once have missed her. I guess that’s a weird gift I got from Dead Mom is that I don’t have to suffer further even after she’s fluttering in spirit.

But maybe I secretly somewhere deep down in my heart wish I did miss her? Who knows.

All I know now is that I have the choice to wake up everyday with forgiveness in my heart. And that continues to transform my life incrementally.

Enough for now.

My unapologetic love.

a. Danielle ❣️

On being unapologetic about who we let in our space…

I know we have all suffered silently being around someone that really didn’t jive with our vibes and for whatever reason was unpleasant.

It could be a co-worker, an acquaintance in your social circle, a family member, someone hounding you to purchase the latest thing they are selling etc.

I’m excited for this nugget today as a follow up from my previous piece about being unapologetically authentic to our own selves.

It seems that the next thing that wants to be born is this discussion on being unapologetic about whom we allow in our space.

Space can be anything… Our life, our energy field, our social media feeds, our thoughts…

I discovered the phenomena that the more I was authentic to myself and didn’t shy away from being seen as that, the more I didn’t have the energy to want to be around people that were a negative entity or an energetic drain.

I began being more picky about who I shared my space and time with. It was mind blowing how many times I would go along with a group even if there were individuals that I knew were an energetic mismatch for fun, peace, love, joy and all the other beautiful, high vibe feels.

It was almost like I felt a social pressure to suffer silently even when I knew there was a massive misalignment.

I forsaked myself in the name of appeasing others. And what’s the gigantic life lesson we are learning about doing that???

You guessed right. Dishonoring ourselves gets a resounding FUCK that. πŸ™‚

The benefit from making a choice to choose who we want to be surrounded by is that it cleans up the bullshit. We walk away from the experience uplifted, joyful and in good spirits. It just feels good.

<

he downside to being unapologetic about who we spend time with ESPECIALLY if they are a member of a social group or circle is that it runs the risk of disrupting things a bit.

I used to suffer silently and “go with the flow” just because of the fear of what would happen if disruption occurred.

Because like clock work, and much like the sun always coming up and always setting is that the person that has a toxic air about them also tends to be a bully, force of pushy energy. They are able to move energy and the dynamic in the group because of their bully force. The others usually don’t want to deal with the repercussions of this persons meltdown so they quietly appease bully.

Also very much like clock work, they will try and make allies in their case against you. It’s so classic, text book and predictable.

<

nd we see this. And that’s why we have made the decision to disengage with this kind of person in the first place. Because we don’t have time for that nonsense bullshit.

It can kind of be uncomfortable for a moment when we decide to clean up our friend garden. But you know what’s possible?

Something that I don’t think many people grasp. It’s perfectly ok for us to not care for someone else that everyone else might love. It’s perfectly ok for us to love someone that everyone else doesn’t get along with.

Not only that. It’s more than ok for use to not push our agendas of not appreciating another person and rallying others to get in your same page about them.

It’s ok for two people to have opposing views on the same person. It’s ok for us to still be friends regardless how I feel about someone you like and I don’t care for their energy because I have evolved to a place that my time is spent better loving you and enjoying you while not trying to get you to share my same view points of another.

Life’s become MUCH more peaceful. Much, much more peaceful.

If we are worried that by honoring ourselves and removing ourselves from the presence of someone that is not a positive match, that’s ok and very normal.

But the thing is if your people are TRULY your people they will love and respect your opinions and feelings and not put their agendas on you either.

If you start distancing or blocking, unfriending, doing WHATEVER to clean up your space and others start moving and grumbling and rallying with that person… LET THEM.

Let them GO.

They are not your people.

As we begin to step into our authentic selves and make decisions that value ourselves in terms of who we surround ourselves with – people will show you their cards.

And we will learn further who is our tribe and who isn’t. When we start getting clear about how we want to feel when we are around people our experience as a whole increases in positivity and overall joy and happiness.

Energy is very much a real thing. We need to learn to listen to and honor our guts and intuition when it comes to feeling drained or anything other than amazing when we are around people.

If we know that someone is toxic to us we owe it to ourselves to make actions for US that support that. But leave everyone else alone to make their own decisions.

Girls can be catty man. It’s ridiculous. But instead of dealing with the drama and stirring up shit storms and manipulating others why don’t we spend the energy tidying up our side of the street.

We need to decide how it is we want to feel when we are around others. If we know someone that isn’t conducive to that, make the self-preserving, self-loving and self-honoring decision to not allow them in our space.

Anyone else that chooses to distance and take sides, let them go also.

Ever since I have been adopting this concept my relationships have become richer. They have become more full with those who are closer to an energetic match to my heart and soul. I let my guard down. I am able to simply “be”, void of toxicity, cattiness and bullshit. My energy is not drained. I feel uplifted, supported and all things wonderful.

I’m currently not letting anybody fuck with my flow. πŸ™ƒ

We have to be unapologetic about it because as with any change there will be some resistance. Knowing what’s important to us is key. Deciding how we want to feel is vital. Honoring ourselves is crucial.

And who knows… by us lighting the way and doing this it may inspire others to clean up their space of people that don’t positively serve them as well.

Enough for now.

a. Danielle

On being unapologetically you…

Hello loves πŸ™ƒ

I’ve been overcoming something in my own life I feel compelled to share about.

Pretty much my entire life has been spent watering myself down for whatever reason. Whether it was trying to fit into some group or appease someone else, I would sacrifice who I TRULY was for the sake of others.

I think most of us don’t really grasp the true detriment of doing this. When we hold ourselves back and water ourselves down it silently whispers to our soul that we are not enough or worthy as we are.

And that my beloveds, is incredulous bullshit πŸ™‚

For me I think it was the fear of not belonging. I had the ridiculous (limiting) belief that I had to belong to a group to matter and if I didn’t, there was something wrong with me.

I had the belief that even if I knew in my heart something upset me about someone else I would stifle it for fear of rocking the boat.

I shouldered EVERYTHING and self-sacrificed for the sake of others.

It became glaringly obvious that I was no longer able to keep myself small and disallow myself from being the truest, fullest version of me, unapologetically.

Life is really meant to flow with ease. When we are misaligned with who we are it shows up in inner turmoil and conflict with ourselves.

When we start shifting the dynamic to a place where we are able to choose ourselves and our needs first even if that means disappointing another that’s where true magic occurs.

Everything changes in life.

But the issue is that most of us are so engrained to put others first and their needs first that we don’t take the time to realize that it’s US that we need to be putting first and honoring.

We are engrained to not rock the boat if speaking up for ourselves would mean disappointing our mother.

We fear that by speaking up against an infraction or violation by a friend in our group that we would be disbarred.

So we stay silent and self sacrifice.

But this means we are not being the truest version of ourselves that we can be. Essentially we are not honoring ourselves. And each time we slink back against being authentically us and speaking up what’s on our hearts and setting healthy boundaries we are telling ourselves that we are not worthy.

And that belief will manifest in drawing closer to you people and things that prove that theory correct.

It dawned on me that I was sacrificing myself to make others comfortable when at the end of the day I should be my top priority.

It’s crazy at just shy of 36 years old I am discovering the paramount value of actually treating myself worth a damn.

Whether its in what I fuel my body with nutritionally, how I support my health by working out and the thoughts and beliefs I Fuel my brain (and heart and soul) with.

Don’t you think it’s a widespread epidemic that we treat others way better than we treat ourselves??? We deserve to give ourselves the love we so freely give others.

I invite you to think for a moment of the person you love the absolute most in the whole universe. Really allow the feelings to encompass you.

Now start directing that love to yourself. Because THATS what we should all be doing! Every moment of everyday day!

So what does this have to do with being unapologetically you?

Everything.

When we are true to ourselves and speak up for ourselves and honor ourselves in the face of disappointing another, we are giving ourselves the ultimate gift.

We are telling ourselves that we are worthy. Because we ARE!

Being unapologetically you might look like setting boundaries against your mother whom you know is toxic to you and your health and growth. It might look like you telling her how her treatment of you makes you feel.

It might look like speaking up to someone that owes you money whom you dread having the conversation with because you know the persons attitude is larger than life and is a bully and you know there will be some amount of flack.

It’s blocking or un-friending or unfollowing someone in your circle that has a toxic negative energy and you simply do not want it around you AND doing it unapologetically regardless if that means upsetting the balance.

it’s doing all these things knowing full well it might upset someone else and being ok with that.

Being unapologetically you is the ultimate gift of self-love and honor we can give ourselves.

We might lose people along the journey of coming back to ourselves and that’s OK!!!

It’s better than ok. They weren’t your people to begin with. They were your fake people because you were being a fake version of you.

Your people are the ones that love you for who you are in a deep, true, full level. Your people would never allow you to water yourself down. They accept you as he perfectly imperfect being that you are.

This concept may be scary if it means that your going to disappoint a mother or family member.

To me sometimes the title of “family” just gives others a license to treat you less than just because they are relatives. And well, fuck that.

When we shift to start honoring ourselves and showing up authentically and unapologetically there WILL be shift. This much I can promise you.

You will be tempted to revert back to old ways of watering yourself down because it will piss people off. But if we can breath through the turbulence of watching some people drop out of our lives it will allow more people that are more aligned with who you really are to come in.

Be strong and bold. Disrupt shit. Everything if you want. But be you.

The real you.

Your beautiful and talented and fucking wonderful!!! Not only do we all deserve to see you as you were created, YOU deserve to see you as the brilliant being you are under the robes of repression. Not as the version of yourself you molded yourself into so as to not disappoint those around you.

Wouldn’t you rather be loved and accepted for how you truly are and have the ones that don’t get the fuck on out of your life???

Enough for now.

All my brilliant love and acceptance… 🧑

a. Danielle