The Not So Nice Woman In Me

The Power of WE.jpg

What if today the world could not be an “all about me” or “pay attention to me” day?
What if we truly learned it’s about “WE”. We exist because we are blessed, and if you want to see the truth read a little further.

In my second book Beyond The Reflection I had to take a harder look at my desire to be seen and heard. I wanted so badly for my Mother to make choices that would make her happy and for her to truly see her worth!

The adult of me fought, screamed, and yelled in the eye of the public in desperation to see change. I angrily told anyone who would listen of the misery being caused to me, and in the silence with a secrecy of shame for both of our pain, I would cry in the dark and curse at the reflection of myself.

I needed my Mother and that little girl tantrum of an attitude was hurting us both personally and professionally. I protested and put up walls, divided our friends and family to take sides, and I took her lashes of words as both punishment and holding onto a conditioned belief that she still needed me.

This was a double-edged sword of love and pain along with a desire for an external change, that I truly believed would someday fix me. If only she would leave, and as long as she is there I will make her see that the life she chose would cost her the things she loved the most. I unconsciously believed that I was entitled to her love and respect.

The day I awoke to the truth, was one full of grief, sadness, and pain to finally have understood that she was a reflection of a past that she could not fix. That no matter the state of her affairs it was cruel of me to add to her pain and shame her for not being able to free herself.

The day I took ownership and responsibility for the woman I am today, I learned to set us both free by becoming the change that I wanted to see. From the true self I could see me and through her eyes I could see even more of me. As I complained about others hurting me, I was also doing to her, so what makes me better than any of them? Not a fucking thing! The day I owed my own shit, was the day I loved my mother more than ever before. My apologies are not on my knees begging, but in the actions of love and support I now surround her in as I truly listen to her stories as the healer in me would do for everyone else, but never for us. I was a repeat of her pain, and my desire to help everyone left me frustrated because I just could not help her see.

The day I began to love me from my soul (from the inside out), I have learned to honour and love my mother for all she has been. Now through my eyes she not only sees the courage and strength in me, she finally sees the truth of her worth, for her diamond she sees in me.

I only had to stop fighting for the need to be right or to try and force change, and instead  allow the work to be done within me, to transmute my anger into love, and find a voice of hope and faith that the world we see can now be a reflection of love for all to see.

Even when others do not see nor understand that if we could just be a good human and learn to love, that maybe someday the whole world will reflect it back. Through the eyes of those who loved me and through my so called “enemies” I could truly see me.

Through the eyes of light I could see in the dark, and through the desire to no longer live in misery I could feel pain. Through the eyes of love, I stopped fooling myself, and because I care I had the courage to look at my role and tell the story from the perspective of the hurt that I had caused.

Today I only stand beside, love and support, not just my mother or myself but all women. Self actualization changed my life and today it is no longer an “I” but a “we” as we coexist in living a life of More Than Existing™, for from my soul I see the beautiful worthy woman in all.

Corrie Thorne-Cameron

A Modern-day Mystic, Published Author, Inspirational Storyteller, Channel, Psychic Medium, Lightworker & Mentor, Spiritual Teacher/Coach, Consultant & Healer.

https://corriethorne-cameron.com/
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Beauty In The Storm