I M Perfect lady

I heard someone say that unexpressed feelings from childhood are time travelers; they continue to follow us along, until they can be released.

I don’t really know where they are all stored, or when or how they appear, but when they appear it is like a fog that fills my insides overtaking my nowadays reality, and bringing in a volume of emotions and feelings that have little or nothing to do with what is happening today.

Fog of yesterday’s unexpressed emotions arise, float in, filling you up on the inside, catapulting you back to when these emotions were supposed to be felt, but you were unable to safely do that, like an apparition you feel these ghost like feelings appear in your life.

You feel yourself as yourself a long time ago.

It was shocking to me to know that I was a good girl.  It was the key that will release now many other feelings that have been locked down.

I would have thought the feelings under lock and key were ones of negative connotations, but instead behind the locked door is my self-esteem in its rightness.

The fog hid from my view my goodness, my efforts of trying really hard and succeeding as far as a little girl is concerned.  My trying harder and harder to be a better little girl, always, was because the fog blocked from my view, my goodness.

I still haven’t caught my breath on that, my insides feel strange, instead of having this thirst and desire to always please to become better, I am sitting with nothing to do, nothing to prove.

There is no argument inside of me.

When I said that I am doing the yoga now to feel better, I would not have guessed that fogs would arise, that I would be flung backwards into my childhood feelings, that even dreams would participate to help me feel that which I have never felt before.

And in feeling those long ago feelings, a correction is made; I am one with the reality even way back there now. 

I also felt in yoga today that I had said that I wasn’t a little girl and I wasn’t a mom, and that is right.  I was a little girl being a mom.

My childhood was a little girl being a mom.

I used to be so disconnected from the little girl, and couldn’t see me as a mother, but to see the combination; that I am a little girl being a mom, sounds perfect.

I AM a perfect little girl, acting like a mom.

I am a perfect little girl, is what I didn’t know.

Imperfect childhood, imperfect little girl, but it is perfectly me.