The Power Of Love

This just came up yesterday as a memory on my Facebook feed… and it made me cry.

Ten years can feel like many lifetimes.

I look so young in that picture, and so weary from the relentless battles. I was still right in the middle of it…. Fighting to keep a home for me and my son, fighting to come to terms with multiple levels of duplicity and chaos, fighting with debt and seemingly insurmountable financial pressures… and oh so much more.

I’d already overcome countless battles. And still had so many ahead - many of which I had absolutely no idea about at the time.

I remember using laughter and loudness as my go-to shields, they worked very well for me. I remember rising like a mumma-bear to stand up for anyone who was being hurt. I remember calling on the spirit of William Wallace to lead me forward as each new challenge arose.

This blog was the main thing that had kept me going. I found that writing out 'the crazy' had helped to give me a voice… helped me to see in black and white what was happening around me. It helped me to find the strength to carry on, even though god knows there were times it was hard to even know where the next breath was coming from.

I’d also discovered Light Up, although at that time I had no conscious understanding of what had happened, and certainly no idea of where it would all lead me…

I remember those times as an incredibly uncomfortable yet intensive training school. I remember building in strength, determination and fire. I remember learning how to say 'no' to authorities who didn't have my best interests at heart. I learned to spot the lies, and stand strong for truth. I learned to fight like an alley cat, how to twist and turn on a sixpence, and how to live on fresh air...

If someone had asked me yesterday about those times, I would’ve said I was a warrior.

Today I’ve seen something else. And it isn't 'warrior'...

Today I see a young woman, tired and bewildered from fighting against the odds for her son and her sanity. I see innocence. I see fear. And I see the crushing weight of shame. I see gentleness. Shyness and sensitivity. And awkwardness. I also see that smile, the one that always appeared so effortlessly through the fears. Yes, I was afraid. And lost. And oh so very alone.

That’s why I have tears today. Tears of love and recognition for the innocence of my younger self. Today I’m reaching to that young woman and I holding her so close and tight. I’m letting her know how amazing she was/is, what she’s achieved, how far she’s come. I’m reassuring her that the darkness passes. Reminding her that the light will always lead us home.

And that’s why my heart, right now, bursts with love and joy. Because I can see it in that photograph. Even though I didn’t know it at the time, it wasn’t the ‘fighting’ that was keeping me going, it was something else much more profound… because this photograph confirms what I know for certain now. Somewhere deep inside I knew. Somehow Love knew, and I was learning how to trust her.