From Fear To Love - Lessons From a Baby Squirrel

This journey started on Thursday 22nd September 2022 when I came across a baby squirrel in the garden. He was tiny. Lying on the ground between two trees. Not moving. Bluebottle flies were gathering on him. It was purely by chance that I even passed him, let alone saw him - I wasn't even going to go in that direction.

Fate took me that way. 

It was faith (instinct) that prompted the baby squirrel to leave his nest. He found me. Instinct prompted me to pick him up without hesitation, and with no idea what I was to do next or the journey that lay ahead for both of us. Faith prompted me to stay in the now, to trust love, and fall into the unfolding. 

He made it through the first night, and by the morning he had a name. Sammy. 

That was five weeks ago, and his journey since then has been seen by many people, thanks to an early recommendation from someone who had rescued a baby robin and discovered the value of a hashtag to share his journey. Sammy's is #sammysquirreljourney

Today it's a different story. 

Yesterday I finally managed to secure a bridge I'd made for Sammy, so he could find his way from my window (I live on the second floor) to the huge beech tree outside the window, and back to the home where he belongs. His development over the previous few days had grown in leaps and bounds and he was clearly ready to start his next adventure. I'd had the bridge hanging up inside for a few days so he could get used to it and feel comfortable - suffice to say he loved it from the first moment it was up. It was an instant hit, and his acrobatic antics rose to another level. 

The making of the bridge is a story in itself, and the fixing of it to a branch is yet another. For the moment let's stay at the point where the bridge was safely secured in place. Yesterday afternoon was warm and sunny. And the time was right for Sammy to take his next steps. Gently, and in his own time. With the support of a bridge that meant he could come back and forth as he chooses until fully re-wilded.

So yesterday afternoon, just me and Sammy on our own for this special moment, I explained to him again what this was all about, and opened the window. He chirruped. He flicked his tail. His eyes shone. And he went straight out there, sniffing the air with excitement and recognition.

The thing is, he didn't go on the bridge. Instead he wandered around happily scratching and snacking on the lichen on the window ledge. He went to one side, and then the other. And somehow went around the corner. Where he was out of view. And that's the last I've seen of him. 

It happened almost instantly. Fear levels rose. Heart beating. Feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach - not helped by the sound of something I imagined to be a baby squirrel landing in a pile of leaves below the window. Racing downstairs, calling Sammy's name, I searched everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Looking at where he could have landed (if indeed that noise was what I'd imagined it to be) and berating myself for not looking after him properly "how could you have done that Melanie? How could you have put him in danger?"

He wasn't there. There was no sign of him. And neither was there any sign of him as I looked back up to my window. 

Tears streamed down my face as I begged and pleaded "please no, not again. I can't. I can't do this. Not again. Please don't let this happen."

Through the tears, looking up to my window gave me an element of reassurance. I'd never looked at the walls and windows in any detail. Yesterday I saw the surface is rough enough for a squirrel to climb... and I felt more certain that the noise I'd heard (imagined?) could not have been Sammy. I was reassured again a few hours later by a wonderful baby squirrel expert I'd been introduced to at the beginning of this journey - thank you Rachel. She explained that if it had been him, if indeed he had fallen, I would have found him. If he was injured I'd have found him, and if he was frightened he'd have found me. 

"And anyway," she kindly reminded me, "the height he originally fell from as a tiny helpless baby is much greater than your window! And now he's grown and capable. If he was in any trouble, you'd have found each other, and that's for certain."

OK. So even as the fears continued to circle and taunt me (what if he's hurt? What if he can't get to you? What if he's in shock? What have you done?) I chose to focus in the way Rachel had recommended. After all, she's rescued, raised and released countless baby squirrels, so she knows what she's talking about! He's out exploring. He's started living his best life. He has no idea you're concerned. You've raised him well. He's confident and capable. Trust, Mel, trust.

My next few hours were spent battling with disbelief, shock, grief, guilt, shame and all the usual fear vultures that can draw in and circle ominously whenever the not-knowing appears.

I kept gently reminding myself that this is all it is, it's simply the unknowing, that's what I'm experiencing. Noticing myself piecing together bits of evidence that feed my fears, while dredging up a torrent of traumatic memories from the past, I repeat over and over again that this is simply the not-knowing. That's all. 

Did I see Sammy fall? No. Is there a body, or an injured squirrel anywhere in the vicinity where he could have fallen, even if that was the case? No. 

If he needed my help, could he find me? Yes. Has he shown himself, time and time again, to be capable, tenacious, and ready to leave? Yes. Have I been reassured by someone who absolutely knows her stuff? Yes. And as well as that, have I also been reassured by the dear friends (thank you Kirsten and Geoff) who've been with me every step of the way, providing me with logical explanations and holding me while I sobbed? Yes. 

I flitted between the garden and the flat for the rest of the afternoon, calling Sammy's name all the time, finally coming in when it was dark. I left the window open, a light on, and some of his favourite snacks at the window. I'd done all I could. Before coming inside, I'd kept repeating until I could speak with a relatively clear voice "Sammy, wherever you are, I love you, I trust you. and I thank you" - it was the only thing left in my power to do. Overnight, while sleep was somewhat fitful, I chose to keep repeating a mantra to myself. Holding the circling fears at bay and keeping myself in the now and in faith. This was the mantra: "Thank you God, thank you Sammy, thank you Love" until I could feel it as the truth, right in the centre of my tummy.

This morning brought different waves of emotion - including anger. Right from the start of this journey I've been met by people telling me that Sammy is vermin. A Wildlife Centre informed me that they couldn't (and wouldn't) give any advice for caring for a baby grey squirrel. They said my only option was to take him to a vet to be euthanised. I've subsequently heard similar judgements from other people.

And I'm angry. To discriminate against one of God's creatures because of the body it's born in, does not sit well in my world. In fact it doesn't fit at all. I say no. My mantra is to do no harm (and take no shit), and wherever I can genuinely add something useful to anyone or anything that requires my help, if it's within my power, that's exactly what I'll do. Regardless of breed, creed, colour or situation. If I could relive the moment I found Sammy, I'd do exactly the same thing. Over and over and over again. 

I'm also humbled, and grateful. I see the fears for what they are - mine. I own the guilt for what it is - mine. I acknowledge the expectations for what they are - mine. And the phrase "God laughs while man makes plans" appears to be on an internal loop.

Yesterday's adventure didn't go as planned. Well, not as I planned anyway. And just because I lost sight of Sammy, doesn't mean there's a shred of truth in any of the frightening scenarios I imagined. And actually there's not a jot of evidence to support any of them. Quite the contrary. 

The truth is in the way I'm feeling. The truth is in the surfacing of fears. The truth is in acknowledging those fears, feeling the feels, and allowing them to pass through. The truth is in reaching out (and being held) by beautiful people who love me, and love Sammy. The truth is in listening to the reassurances, believing in Mother Nature, focusing on the overwhelming evidence that this particular squirrel is a tenacious soul who's determined to live his best life.

The fears are mine, and mine to hold and dissolve myself. The love is also mine, it's mine to welcome and accept, and it's everywhere. 

So now, today, I'm again surrendering to love. Reminding myself that Mother Nature knows a whole heap more than I do. Remembering how strong and clever Sammy is, the strength of his natural instincts, and his tenacity to survive. In this unknowing, I place my faith in the unfolding. In the truth of eternal love, and in surrendering to it, knowing that love is indeed the strongest power in the universe. 

Sammy, wherever you are, I love you, I trust you and I thank you. May our journeys continue unfolding exactly the way they're meant to, held by Mother Nature, by love. I know we'll meet again my friend. Someway. Somewhere. Somehow. Thank you, I love you. 

PS: And now, just as I'm about to post this, I'm witnessing from my window, a very small and very fierce little squirrel running across the lawn and chasing off a crow. There are a number of squirrels running around today. This particular one is smaller than the others. Much smaller. And he's doing just fine. It's Sammy. Thank you God, thank you Sammy, thank you Love.

Meraki

 

The meaning of Meraki is "to do tasks with soul, creativity and love" and is used by the Greeks to describe scenarios when a person has really put a part of themselves into something. This word popped up today, touching my soul so deeply that it prompted me to take to my keyboard and once more visit my old friend, this blog...

11.30am on Thursday 9th June 2022 is a moment that is forever etched in my memory. That was the moment I took the stage at TEDx Swansea to deliver my talk about the light that is within all of us. With Tomorrow's World as the theme for the event, I talked about why today's children (our children) are tomorrow's world. Because they'll become mothers, fathers, teachers. leaders... which is what makes our children the most important keys to our brighter future.  

I asked the audience how we (yesterday's children) can help today's children to thrive. What can we do to light their way and lighten their load?

My invitation was to explore why so many of us let go of our dreams along the road to adulthood and instead seek only to fit in... what prompts us to take that route, why we follow it with little questioning, what we can do to change this - and most importantly, what impact changing the way we interact with the world could have on tomorrow's world.

Today, right now, I'm asking myself how I got here. Whilst all the talks from the event are still in the process of editing and sign-off (and of course none of us speakers have any idea how the wider TED audience will respond) over the past few weeks since delivering my talk, I've been hearing uncomfortably nagging internal whispers of "Well, you've only jolly well gone and done it now Melanie. Head above the parapet. Neck on the line. Full visibility. You can't do anything to change it now! This is your life's work. People may love or hate you. They may ignore you too! So you'd better be ready for anything when it goes live!" 

I understand this is perfectly normal - and I know I'm not the only speaker from the day feeling this way! 

And while yes, I'm feeling vulnerable and exposed, I'm also filled with excitement and gratitude. And most of all, right at the core? I have the most wonderfully supportive sense of peaceful, calm, love. I'm feeling safe, and held... regardless of what happens. 

Some of you may know about my journey (it's all been documented here over the years) and most of you will not. It doesn't matter either way. Because what I'd like to share with you today is my sense that everything... yes everything... has been for a good reason. Each bump (landslide, sinkhole, tsunami) in the road has enabled me to go deeper into myself. To find treasures I'd forgotten. To reclaim peace and happiness even in the face of adversity. And ultimately, to be able to share what I've found with others.

This is my Meraki. This is the driving force that's kept me going - and it's relentless. I identify so deeply with those who describe a power greater than themselves that urges them to carry on regardless. I feel it too. Sometimes it's uncomfortable. Sometimes it's exciting. Always it's there. Always and all ways. Sometimes I feel there's no escape... and yet, at the same, I know in my soul that it's kind and loving. I referred to it as "relentless" earlier on. Well, so is unconditional love. And that's how I feel. An unconditional love from something much bigger than myself, pushing me on (even when I'm kicking, screaming and pleading to be left alone) to become all that I can be.

The answers are always within. And peace can always be found even in the darkest moments. 

Over recent times I've found solace and become more deeply tuned in to the beauty and abundance of Mother Nature. My Facebook friends will already know about my love for the medicinal wonders of the mushroom world - and my new-found adventuring with plants as well. I feel at home in nature, and love spending time on my own among trees and greenery, rivers and lakes. There's always something new to learn. And always, always I find reassurance that all is well, and the reminder that there is indeed such a thing as perfect divine order and timing. Even though I often find myself forgetting, and being drawn into external chaos. 

The answers are to be found within. Our inner light knows the way. Not our thoughts. Not even our heart. And certainly not the outside noise that demands so much of our attention. 

So this is what I'm choosing to remember right now. Yes, I can listen and hold space for the inner whispers to be heard and released. I can allow the emotions to rise up, be felt and flow through. No more stuffing things down or sweeping them under the carpet. Because that ultimately means stuffing myself down and hiding myself under the carpet. Feel, hear, acknowledge... and then dare to surrender even deeper into the knowing that right at the core, all is well. 

This is my Meraki in everyday action.

PS. Of course I'll be sharing the links to all the talks from TEDx Swansea as soon as they become available. 

“I See You” - Shining Through The Dark

I've been talking about abuse here on this blog for more than a decade. Why? Because it happened to me. Now I'm also talking about human trafficking, child abuse and SRA (satanic ritual abuse). Why? Because I'm working with survivors.

For those who have no knowledge of these subjects? Yes, I know...  it’s a very tough conversation. It’s unpleasant. It's unsavoury. It’s dark. Horrifying. And sadly, there are still many who question whether survivors are telling the truth. Why? My feeling is that, because it’s such a gruesome topic, some can't tolerate the knowledge that it’s real. Because oh yes, it’s real indeed. And it goes on right under our noses.

For those who’ve experienced it? I know for a fact that having others who will speak out about it is a godsend. Why? Because these beautiful souls have felt utterly isolated from society. Outcast. Forgotten. Ignored. Alone with their pain while they try to come to terms with the horrors they’ve witnessed first hand. And all the time trying to fit into a world that doesn’t want to hear and cannot understand.

I'm here to affirm to every survivor - I believe you. I'm here. I see you. I hear you. I hold you. I support you. I stand with you. And I salute you.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again. From the very depths of my soul, I believe that these beautiful human beings, the ones who've survived unimaginable terrors - more sickening than the worst horror films - these are the people who can help humanity to build a better world. These incredible souls know the darkness. They know the depths and breadth of evil, they've felt for themselves the grip of malevolence that has seeped into every area of our society. 

And yet, despite all of this, they are far from broken. Quite the opposite. In my experience, every time, these incredible human beings blow me away with the light that burns so brightly within them. A light so strong that it kept them alive. A light that, step by step, one by one, can support each and every one of them in finding their voices so they can speak out calmly, honestly, openly and passionately about the evil they've witnessed. To be heard and believed, even by those who previously knew nothing about this topic.

For theirs is the light that can guarantee these atrocities are called out once and for all. Identified. Recognised. Seen for what they are. And through that seeing, they can all be dismantled and dissolved. 

I believe you - and I believe in you

I believe that survivors of any age have the potential to become our future trailblazers. They have the knowledge. They have the first hand experience. They know how darkness works. Which means they can share their knowledge with others. So we can ensure that this evil can never again threaten to forever snuff out the purity and love that sits at the core of humanity.

Part of my job here on our planet is to guide these souls to consciously reconnect with the light within each and every one of them. To be heard and held. To heal. To find their voices. Use their courage as a beacon of light. Connecting with others, so that one by one we can all stand strong together in courage and certainty. We can hold our heads high, look darkness in the eye, say out loud "I see you" and as a result, shine through it.... brighter... and together. 

To illustrate what I'm talking about, here's a post from 29th May on my Facebook Page:

Like most of us here, I am no stranger to the dark world of abuse and control. I talk loudly and regularly about the work I’m now sharing with the world, born largely from my own experiences surviving the darkness to reclaim my light and to shine from within.

What hadn’t occurred to me was how many people have been quietly following my page. Until I posted about how the work of DNA Light Up has been supporting survivors of human trafficking. A few weeks ago I received a message, that very soon prompted a video call. That call has changed my life. For that was when I first met a most beautiful soul I will call “Purity” – because for various reasons we’re keeping her name private.

Purity is a survivor of SRA – Satanic Ritual Abuse. She’s told me some of her story. Any one of the living nightmares she’s endured since infancy, would be enough to destroy most people. And yet, this beautiful soul refused to give in. Her courage is extraordinary. The articulate manner in which she speaks of her experiences is breath-taking. She holds herself with such grace, kindness and love, that I am both humbled and awestruck at the same time.

She and I have formed a beautiful connection. We’re talking together, sharing together, and gradually exploring ways in which her voice can be shared for others to hear. This is a gentle and delicate journey, both of us hand in hand, walking together side by side.

A few days ago, she sent me this beautiful piece that she had written a number of years earlier, and had never shared with anyone. It brought me to tears. And at the same time filled me with joy. I found myself cheering even louder for this beautiful soul who chose to make herself known to me.

Yesterday we spoke again. She told me she would be happy for me to share her writing, and to explain a little about her story. So, it is with great honour and heartfelt gratitude that I’m sharing this piece with you now.

She writes about being a ‘nameless little girl’..... no more my beautiful soul sister, no more. Here’s to you, Purity, and to the continuing strengthening of your message. I’m proud to know you, and am standing right by your side as you continue to grow your light so that others can find their way out of the darkness. I salute you. I thank you. I love you.

Children of the Night

Sometimes I feel like a story that’s never been told; just a mystery concealed by the secrets that nobody knows...

All the screams of silence reverberate through the years – its’ echoes fallen on deaf ears; its’ tears drenched in blood...

The phantom of a nameless little girl, its’ offspring..

We are called the “children of the night” or the “ones who bear the mark”... survivors of extreme, prolonged, sadistic abuse via Satanic Ritual Abuse (SRA) that caused Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID).

Maybe you know us as the stranger you walk past in the street or drive by... or the familiar face in your shop or church, or perhaps at work. But by all means, we’re not just another face among the thousands around you, trying to live life in a world we know very little of.

We live all over the world... but we’re not like you... or maybe we are. We are the survivors of a very dark world most don’t want to know of; a secret, twisted world that runs its’ horrors underground during the times you spend with your family or friends, having fun at a party or while relaxing at home with your dog and kids, living life...

For decades, since birth, we have outlived the most horrific, unimaginable atrocities you can try to conceive of, made up of the worst nightmares most humans would likely succumb to. We look just like you; with skin on, make up, clean, dressed appropriately and often a smile to win over the world...

But unlike you, we had to learn how to assimilate to the life of “normal” and blend in to a world totally foreign to our train of thought and paradigm... More often than seldom, we fail terribly, but the try again to find a path for our footsteps.

I shouldn’t be alive at all but I am; only because of God’s undeserved Grace and Favour – nothing else! A Light that permeated through my deepest darkness and touched my soul.

There’s been no “normal” in our world... well, not in the sense you classify “normal” as... Who knows, I might just be your neighbour, living my supposedly “perfect, happy” life; talented and one of the hardest and most caring employees and friend you can ever have; the least likely person you’d expect to be a “child of the night”... But you’d never know it’s me, unless I’d let you into my world, or if you are a survivor too.

Though I have skin just like you; it has been burnt, shocked, torn, cut, pulled, beaten and poked countless times. It covers up the bruises, pain, violations, tortures, depravation, death, losses, tears, fractures and many broken bones I hide from you to survive and blend into your world. Above all, it masks my multiplicity that enabled me to survive and be alive today.

Even so, despite it all, I love and care just like you. Would you accept me at your work, church or hospital as your employee or your friend if you knew? No, most of you wouldn’t I discovered sadly. People avoid what they don’t comprehend or fear and often don’t care to understand, or simply don’t have the time to try to. It’s okay.

In the supposedly caring profession I’m in, I was severely punished and bullied in various ways for having a body permanently altered by extreme abuse; brutally awakened by their total lack of sight, inability to hear and rock-hard hearts.

Sadly, society mostly expects perfection in every way in order to be accepted. “Fake it ‘til you make it” the mantra goes... Broken bodies and broken people, are often judged and condemned. We never gave up on you though, but learned to forgive regardless... The message society and the world preaches, is that broken beings serve no purpose or very little, which sadly mutes more and more survivors, the same like me and other abuse survivors. Labels destroy.

As we learned to co-exist within society and its’ ill health in order to breathe and survive, we refuse to identify with the façade and partake of the denial it portrays. But strive to breathe and exude life and light and to be a VOICE to those who were also silenced for trying to live and survive. I am blessed to say that I have in the meantime discovered, that not all of society is blind, deaf and uncaring!

Bottomline of my saga: here’s my hand! I will walk with you or you can walk alongside me; as we follow God’s lead in finding our way home into the marvellous Light...

Thank you Purity... your voice can reach so many now

https://www.facebook.com/181795455277815/posts/2563515087105828/

HUMAN TRAFFICKING – and how DNA Light Up is making a difference (copied from LinkedIn)

A few short years ago, the term ‘trafficking’ was not a word in my vocabulary. I knew little about the horrors of this very real plague in our society. And in total honesty, I had been lured to believe that it was something that happened in other countries, or to other people, so it wasn’t something that was on my agenda. I was wrong. Very wrong.

Human trafficking is a pandemic. It’s worldwide. And it’s local. It’s happening right under our noses, and whilst there are growing reports of trafficking rings being brought to justice, it remains a very real and rising threat – not least of which is because it’s such a distressing subject that is hard to absorb. See link to a United Nations global report for Western and Central Europe at the end of this article.

I first met Emma Crews in 2016. She was introduced to me as someone who could benefit from DNA Light Up. This was to be the first time I heard, first hand, about the living nightmare of modern-day trafficking. Not in some other country. Not miles away. Here, local to me in France, and happening in broad daylight on my doorstep.

Emma has worked tirelessly, since 2013, to support women who have been forced into prostitution through trafficking. This was how I learned about a heroic group of people working for an association called Les Ami-e-s des Femmes de la Libération (Friends to the Women of Freedom) set up in 2015 to help women who are victims of human trafficking and forced prostitution. Poitiers is a relatively small city in South West France, with a population of 90,000 (compared with 9million people in London)

Their front page delivers this message:

In Poitiers, until 2017, there were nearly 70 women working in the streets who were forced into prostitution. Mostly from Nigeria, the women often do not know how to read or write. Prostitution was never their choice: they arrived in Europe and were delivered to pimps who forced them into prostitution, threatening the death of their families back in Nigeria. Violence from clients and pimps is their daily life. Sometimes these vulnerable women have the courage to leave prostitution, when we reach out to help them.

Our sessions together were raw, dark, painful and hard-hitting. She had witnessed so many dark stories of torture and abuse, and faced so many battles in securing help and shelter for the women she was so passionate to support, that she was exhausted. Feeling drained and scarred, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually, she even told me that she could never imagine bringing a child into a world that is so cruel and dark.

The sessions made a huge and immediate difference to her, and as a result of her experiences she decided to train to deliver DNA Light Up herself (in both French and English) and asked whether we could work with the women she was supporting. It was the summer of 2016, and we were running the latest Activator Training residential course. This was when we first met Benedicta, who came to us as a volunteer to experience her DNA Light Up experience in the presence of our trainees. Our Director of Training, Sharon Bott, stepped forward to take her through, while the rest of us sat around a table to the side, to observe the experience in person.

We all wept, as this beautiful woman told her story – her face was grey, she looked at the floor, tears rolling down her face as she whispered “Even my conscience tells me I’m nothing but a filthy prostitute”. She told of the deception, the pain, the torture, the stranglehold that the pimps held over her, as well as the threats to her family. She had left her home in Nigeria, and came to Europe with the promise of an education and a bright future. Instead, her fate was to sell her body. Raped. Tortured. Abused. Penniless. Living in fear... she had very nearly given up hope.

She had a young child, and was fearful of not being able to look after him – and yet something inside had kept her alive, somehow she’d found Emma, and Emma had brought her to Light Up.

Even after the very first session, it was clear to see the changes. She had a smile on her face. Her eyes were brighter. She stood taller and moved more freely as she began to regain her power. By the end of the experience (three sessions, a total of five hours), she emerged as a shining warrior. Unrecognisable from the broken soul who first walked through the gates.

We all found ourselves whooping with joy and dancing around the garden with her as she literally transformed in front of our eyes. It was utterly glorious, and a precious moment that to this day remains burned in our memories – thank you Benedicta, your journey was a privilege to witness, and you remain an inspiration to all of us this day.

Move forward to today. Both Emma and Benedicta are transformed. They have both made such seismic changes to their lives, they each recorded a video to share their experiences with DNA Light Up - Benedicta's son makes a cheeky appearance in hers! Both these incredible women continue to inspire others, Emma continues to work tirelessly for the cause, and Benedicta is keen to write a book to share her story with others – we are talking about doing it together.

As for DNA Light Up and our beautiful team of Activators? We continue to remain committed and passionate about making a difference by sharing this work with the world.

Original link here: https://www.linkedin.com/pulse/human-trafficking-how-dna-light-up-making-difference-melanie-pledger/

It's Not Me, It's You

Warning: Can of worms about to be opened. Again.

I'm sure most people are familiar with the phrase "it's not you, it's me" often used to end an ill-fated relationship. Many of us have probably either used or heard it ourselves - it's a yes from me, on both counts. It can be seen as a kind way to gently let people down. A gentle way to say goodbye and move on. Yes?

Okay, Mel, makes sense, no cans (or worms) so far? So... let's dig a little deeper. 

Now let's imagine a toxic relationship. I'm not just talking romantic partner here. I'm also talking the relationships we have at work (colleagues and bosses) at school (classmates and teachers) in families, and also in society as we know it. Yep, you see the can looming over the horizon now?

Before further exploration, allow me to explain a little about my background for new readers here. I've coached hundreds of people (over twenty years with business leaders, teams and private individuals, and over more recent years with families and children as well) and have a thorough understanding about toxic relationships in all walks of life. Including my own experiences, both in childhood and also as an adult. 

Perhaps the greatest errors I made with those who abused me? First of all I had no understanding that such cruelty existed, and secondly I willingly listened to what they told me, and did my very best to be a good girl - at all costs. I was innocent. I believed the words people spoke. I knew that 'do as you would be done by' was good advice. I felt it was important to listen to other people, so that I could understand, do my best and love them more. I assumed that since I saw the world through the eyes of openness and curiosity, others would be doing the same. 

I was wrong. 

It was in putting other people first that I blindly walked into systematic abuse. Abuse so underhand and so relentless, that I didn't even realise the levels at which it was happening. Why would I? After all, I wasn't being hit (well, only the once) and I wasn't in any physical danger (or so I thought) and anyway, both my abusers (in childhood it was my guardian, as an adult it was my husband) were the life and soul of the party, right? Everyone admired them, right? I was lucky to have them in my life, right?

Wrong. 

The thing is, whilst I had no comprehension of what was happening to me then, I am now acutely aware of how these people work. I also understand how so much of our early conditioning, however well-intentioned, can actually set us up as targets. Lessons such as:

• Putting others first is an act of kindness - not if we lose connection with ourselves, if we lose our inner voice and forget to care for ourselves 
• People in authority are here to look after us and have our best interests at heart - really? Such sweeping generalisations create blind trust and mean we're less willing to question what we are told
• Grin and bear it, because it's not polite to tell someone their actions are hurtful - nonsense, it's actually both deeply respectful and relationship strengthening to let someone know the effect they're having on others
• Good things happen to good people - rubbish, sometimes the worst things happen to the best people

I could go on. And I probably will. In later posts. For now, the point I'm making is that so many of the lessons I learned, meant that I put my faith in other people, whilst striving to be a good person and do all I could to support those around me. On the surface, all these appear to be good qualities and a healthy way to approach life, right? Yep, that's what I thought as well. Dig a little deeper though, and these popular concepts are far from healthy, without first having an understanding that not all people are well-intentioned. 

Don't get me wrong, I believe that humanity is kind and loving, and that at the core of us we are all innocent and trusting, like children. I also know for a fact that there are certain individuals living and breathing among us, who are the opposite of humanity. Empty souls who have no qualms about harming others for their own gain. 

I'll paint a picture for you. A summary of one of the many interactions with my guardian. I went to him when I was sixteen years old, my sister was just about to turn twelve. The sudden death of our mother had left us orphans - frightened, grief stricken, and vulnerable. Mum was a kind, loving, generous woman who taught us many wonderful lessons in the relatively short time we had with her... including the fact that the world was a loving and safe place. 

So when my guardian regularly took me aside to advise me as 'the older one' then I of course paid attention. 

"Gilly and I" (his innocent wife) "are having problems with your sister. She keeps coming into our bedroom at night, bringing in her duvet to sleep on the floor" (of course, she was frightened and confused) "and it's ruining our sex life. I don't want to have to find alternative living solutions for you, but I'm sure you understand this can't go on. You're the eldest here" (I was sixteen) "so have a word with your sister please, I'm sure you can help her and she'll understand" 

Along with those words came the megawatt smile, which somehow never reached his eyes. 

These interactions (that also included subjects like my sister's behaviour at school, how important it was that we help Gilly around the house, or reminding me of the adjustments we're all having to do in a situation that none of us asked for because we're in it together) were always done in private. Just me and him. At the breakfast table. Or in the car.

Strangely, whenever there was an audience - visiting friends or family members - he would joke and smile and say how proud he was of the way we're all making things work so well. That's of course why I would be told, on so many occasions, how lucky we were to have been taken in. 

My feelings at that time? Confusion. Pain. Loneliness. Grief. And the terrible fear that if I didn't fit in, be a good girl, and help my sister to understand the effects of some of her more rebellious actions (good for her!) then our home and safety was at risk.

It's a clever trick. Pulling me aside to share 'grown up' information (it must mean he trusts me), confiding in me about the struggles that both he and his wife were having (it must mean he trusts me), asking me as the older one to help with my little sister (it must mean he trusts me), and telling me that I had the power to make a difference - oh yes, he certainly trusts me, and absolutely there are things I can do to make the situation better. 

The result? I did everything within my power to keep the peace. I did everything I could to help around the house and look after my guardian's young children. I did my very best to reassure my sister. I listened when she was frightened and angry. I did all I could to soothe her. And I regularly reported back to my uncle with the progress I was making. All in order to keep a roof over our heads. The roof that, to the outside world, had been painted as a perfect home. 

So when, just a couple of weeks after my eighteenth birthday - a lavish party in our home (now I'm sure it was only thrown in order for him to impress all my friends and countless family members) - he told me (again, alone) that his wife was suffering and we had to leave? Well, I felt a total failure. The cold twisting knot of guilt and shame gnawing at my insides.

It was all my fault. I hadn't done enough. I hadn't been helpful enough. I hadn't been good enough. And now both my sister and I were to face the consequences. 

I fundamentally believed that I was to blame. And it shaped me. 

Today, twelve years following the end of a ten year marriage to a sociopath, I know that this couldn't have been further from the truth. Now I understand the insidious trickery that was being played out, with my sister and myself the innocent pawns. Years later in my marriage, my son and myself were the innocents.

It didn't matter how much I bent over and complied for the good of the people I loved, who were also trapped in this dangerous game. No matter what I did, I could never have had an influence on what was happening. And yet all the time I believed it was my fault. There was something wrong with me. I wasn't doing enough, I wasn't being enough. The old "it's not you, it's me" syndrome. 

Well, BOLLOCKS to that. BOLLOCKS to answering 'how high' when told to jump. BOLLOCKS to fitting in and being the good girl. 

It took me a lifetime to learn how to recognise these patterns and to turn things around. These days, the work I'm sharing with the world honours our childlike innocence, love and purity as the most powerful forces of humanity. One of the key messages? Reclaiming our ability to notice toxic behaviours and situations. Reclaiming our voice. Reclaiming our birthright to shine bright and ask questions. To notice the BOLLOCKS - whatever that may be, whether it's our own internal voices or those of people around us - and to call out, loud and clear, "It's not me, it's you"

PS: As for Gilly? Well, she and I finally escaped and made it through. Now, decades later, we both understand the dangerous games that were being played out on all of us. Now we can (and do) support each other. We share our experiences together, we make sense of the crazy, and our relationship has continued to grow. Thank you Gilly, I love you <3 

Celebrating our tribe - copied from my Facebook feed

You know what I’m loving in these crazy times? The fact that we’re all coming together.

The misfits. The sneered at. The ‘never quite good enoughs’. The dreamers. The lovers. The artists. The poets. The music makers. The jesters. The ones who never fitted in. The ones who loved, with open hearts and bright souls. The ones who, through innocence, were burned time and time again. The ones who never gave up. Who knew deep within there was another way. The ones who chose to carry on shining their crazy… their true selves… the ones who move to the beat and the rhythm of their own drum, and who dance regardless..

Because now we’re finding each other. And through finding each other, we’re marvelling in our differences. We’re curious to learn, and honouring the way we each shine our own beautiful uniquely divine lights… we openly share our hurts, our pains, our grief… and what we have to offer… we recognise our knowing. And we salute each other for our ‘oddness’ in this world.

Together we are a band, a choir, a growing throng of ‘crazy’ individuals who, together, are being the brightest form of humanity that is the birthright of everyone on this planet. It’s not creating so much as reclaiming.

We were not born to fit in to a system that squashed the very soul of who we are…. We weren’t born to succumb. None of us were. We were born to stand out. So that others can do the same.

To all my fellow weirdos on this planet right now… I thank you, and I salute you.

We’ve been beaten down. Laughed at. Pushed away. Belittled. Made outcasts. And still we stand. In love. For and with humanity, in its purest and most innocent form.

Now… for the first time… I know I belong, and I know why. It’s thanks to all of you beautiful souls who also knew there was a better way. I’m no longer alone. Thank you

Let’s do this thing! It’s what we were born for

“I am here, I always have been & always will be”—A message from your intuition.

Who am I? Why do so many people search for me? 

And why do so many more believe me to be an elusive, ethereal element that only the few can experience fully? I’m here to reassure you—yes you, beautiful being of love and light—that I’m here and accessible to all. 

Not only am I reachable, but I’m also right here with you right now, right this moment. I’ve been calling to you since the day you were born. Most of you have been taught to misinterpret my language. That is all. 

So allow me now to share some of the many ways I make myself known to you. 

I’m the one who gives you butterflies in your stomach. It is I who causes you to swell with happiness when you see someone you love. I’m the warm feeling you get when you’re listening to your favourite music, watching a wonderful film, or being drawn into the magic of a beautifully written book. 

I’m also the one who turns you cold when something’s not right. It is I giving you that sense of recoiling or shutting down when someone does something you don’t like. I’m the knot in your stomach when you’re afraid that you’re not enough. I’m also the silent scream inside you when you’re on your knees in desperation. 

I am your inner light. Your guidance. Your messenger. I’m referred to as intuition. Or gut instinct. Inner knowing. Wisdom. Core. Soul. Essence. I’m known by many names. I am within you. I am the creative source that is the same for everyone, and yet as unique to each person as a fingerprint. As exquisitely distinctively beautiful as each snowflake. I am here for you. I am with you. I am you. 

Yet most people have come to accept that I can only be accessed in rare glimpses of inspiration, over which they have no control. You’ve come to rely on others to give you the answers that are already within because you believe that my presence and guidance cannot be relied upon. This is why you continue to look outside of yourself. This is why that search is fruitless. That’s why so many of you feel lost, empty, and powerless. Until the time you come home to yourself. 

Every day I invite you to understand the way I communicate with you. Every moment I show you that I’m here. 

Those negative feelings that you’ve been taught to judge as bad or dismiss as unhelpful? That’s me again. Letting you know that there’s a better way. Yet you’ve learned to quieten those feelings. You’ve developed strategies that enable you to put on a brave face, stiff upper lip, to carry on regardless. You rely on mental tactics to help you power through difficult situations. That approach may bring instant relief, but it’s not lasting. Because you’ve quietened my voice. You’ve toughened up your resilience, which simply means you’ve become resistant to what’s going on so that you can numb yourself to the discomfort. Meanwhile, you train yourself to continue experiencing the pain without complaining. Because you’ve been told that’s what freedom is about. Freedom from the discomfort. So you’re able to endure more. 

Does that really seem like freedom to you now? 

Consider the idea that while I continue to call out to you from within, nudging you to realise there’s a better way, you’ll experience my messages as stress or anxiety. And because you’re used to identifying those feelings as something negative, you again push them away, pull out your survival weapons, thinking and acting your way to a less painful way of being. 

This is precisely why so many people experience fear and isolation; by constantly numbing the messages I’m sending, they move increasingly to the outside world and ignore their greatest power.

Once you can understand that the odd feeling inside is not something bad, or something to be fearful of, then the journey home has started. As you also realise the glorious, warm, and joyful experiences you’ve felt at certain times over your life are not just glimpsing moments of happiness, then the excitement of the journey increases. 

I am here. I am your light. I’m your intuition. In-tuition. Inner teacher. I’m inside you. Yet you search for me outside. You seek external validation that you’re okay. That you’re doing things right. That you’re being the best you can be. That you’re enough. But you won’t find me there. This is why you sometimes feel lost and lonely. Because the more you seek the answers outside of yourself, the less you can experience connection. Again, that is me. That’s me talking to you. I’m calling you home while you face foreign lands. My voice echoes through caves of emptiness that you may experience as frustration or aloneness. 

I am your guru. I am your light. I am you. 

Calling you home. I am here, always have been, and always will be. I am here for you and as you, because I am you. Always and all ways. I’m here to guide you back to the magnificence of your being. So that you can connect and know that you are indeed your own saviour. You are your own teacher. You are the light. 

It’s easy to find me when you know where to look. Then it’s simply about understanding the unique language that I share with you. As you connect with me, you shine brightly, so that others can also come home and connect with their light. And as we continue to connect, we can all know that we’re here as one. Together in joy, in freedom, in light, in love. 

I’m here. I always have been and always will be. I’m waiting patiently for you to come home. And while I’m waiting, no matter how long it takes, I’ll continue baking cakes and preparing the most delicious homecoming celebrations in anticipation of the time we can rejoice in your return. 

My doors are always open, inviting you to come inside. 

 Originally published by Elephant Journal, 7th July 2020: https://www.elephantjournal.com/2020/07/i-am-here-i-always-have-been-always-will-a-message-from-your-intuition-melanie-pledger/