Tag Archives: abuse

If I Wrote A Song It Would Go Like This

If I wrote a song, the title could be, “Birth Mother Searching.” I think it would go something like:

Birth mother searching, searching for answers
To questions that still haunt her in the night.
She’s searching for someone, someone to tell her
The decision she made all those years ago was right.

Did that tiny little girl have all the love she could have?
Are her hopes and dreams coming true?
Now that she’s a woman entering the world
With fearlessness held only by youth.

In my mind I see her playing, playing with dolls.
She’s the most beautiful little girl in the world.
While I go back to being a teen, hiding the truth,
It’s eating me up inside.

Hush, you can’t tell a soul.
It would disgrace the family.
No, it wasn’t you who did anything wrong,
But you are punished…you are the victim and it’s you who pays.

Birth mother searching, searching for answers
To questions that still haunt her in the night.
She’s searching for peace in her soul and mind
And hoping with all of her might

That one day there will be a phone call
A woman’s voice, nervous and hopeful
Asking the question she’s been waiting to answer
Are you my birth mother?

Feb. 27, 2004



Searching For Perspective

My Dear Readers,

I have discovered, starting back in college, that when I can shift my perspective about a situation, I can change how I feel about it. I can change my beliefs.

Lately, I’ve been struggling, again, with the thoughts in my head of having been molested by my older brother when I was young. It brings up feelings of anger, of sadness, of regret, and feelings that life is not fair.

I’ve been trying to find a perspective, the perspective to free me from these thoughts. I know on a conscious level that I need to love myself in order to heal from this, but the how has eluded me.

Recently, a dear friend started an online group for discussions such as this to be addressed. I put out the question of how to let go of this victim mentality, and answers came in. Some were answers that I already knew, answers that were good to read, but weren’t giving me the new perspective I was searching for. Then, one answer came that put a new spin on things that hit me just the right way.

It wasn’t something completely new, but the way the words hit me this morning resonated in a new way. They settled differently into my heart. The words were, ” “It allowed you to feel that you do not resonate with that low vibrational energy.” Experiencing being molested taught me what low vibrations feel like, and that they don’t feel good. At the soul level it was just an experience. I chose to experience low vibrations so I could choose to live in higher vibrations. When I feel certain feelings that are not comfortable, I know that whatever is putting me there is not the way to go, and it’s time to course correct. To change directions. To not go there. Our emotions are our vibrational compass in life.

Another perspective that helped me over a year ago, was knowing that my brother violated me in an attempt to exert control over me. He spent our childhood looking for power and control; and he found it by controlling and violating me, thinking that he needed to take these things from me. What he didn’t understand, and still doesn’t to this day, is that he was created as a perfect child of God (as am I and everyone else), with all of the power and love that he’ll ever need. All he has to do is open himself up to it.

These shifts in perspective have helped me in so many ways. I don’t know when I’ll be totally and completely released, but I’m making my way there.

Thanks for coming by and reading.


Waves of Life

Things in life happen in cycles. But because I have a left hemisphere of my brain, they appear to me to happen in waves. I go through this and then that. And then this comes back for more.

I wake up exhausted for what seems like endless days. My nights are interrupted by life. But then I get a few good nights sleep and feel good again, but not today.

I react (and not in a good way) when I think about my childhood and the past. “Live in the moment” all the gurus say. It would be easy to do if I didn’t have the left hemisphere of my brain.

Then I remind myself of the higher perspective of my life choices. Yes, I chose to be born into this dysfunctional family. I chose to have a mother who was mentally ill. I chose to live under the same roof as a brother who would prey on me and use me as his personal sex toy. I chose to have a father who made a lot of decisions based on fear. And I chose to be an extremely sensitive, christened child of God, who would walk through fire.

I remind myself of how far I’ve come in my healing, and I notice moments in life when I remain calm in the face of a small tornado. I have actually healed quite a bit. But then that wave of feeling good moves through and another wave moves in, wave after wave.

I know that in order to manifest, I need to live in the energy of already manifested, already here. But it’s so hard when my reality, as dictated by my physical body, shows me that certain things I want are not here.

“I’m not patient, Mom!” my son told me one day when I was telling him that he needed to be patient. I’m sure that my spiritual team is telling me to be patient and to keep doing the work, but I’m not feeling very patient these days. Just waiting on another wave to take me to shore.

Then and Now

The other day, something I saw took me back to my childhood. I got to thinking about how I used to look at life. When I was little, my brothers and I seemed to always be fighting. I didn’t like it, but didn’t know otherwise. Our parents didn’t have the knowledge or skills to teach us kids to negotiate among each other and to learn how to get along. It never occurred to my mentally ill mother that our oldest brother was a sadistic control freak.

Every night as I fell asleep, I would imagine a knight in shining armor who would ride into my life and carry me off, rescuing me. It wasn’t until my 40’s that I remembered this and put the pieces together. So much of my childhood was blocked in my memory until the past few years. It was a childhood spent in fear, into my early teen years.

As I grew into my teen years, after I had been molested, had given birth to my daughter and teenage hormones kicked in, the anger began to set in. I became angry at my mother for her being verbally abusive and acted like a bitch when she’d attack me. I learned to give back as good as I got. I was angry at my brother, but because that whole incident was kept such a secret, I couldn’t even openly express that anger, so a lot of it was suppressed for several more years.

Another theme that crept in during my young teenage years and eventually plagued me was the belief that I was overweight. This was instilled early in life thanks to my mother always talking about how she needed to lose weight, and with her always being on a diet. And she was not overweight. Her self-image was crap, and she taught me to feel the same way about my body. I remember one time trying to purge after I had eaten a bunch of junk food. Fortunately for me, I was repulsed by this one time, and it never happened again. Because food was always something I loved and even craved, it became my drug of choice. So, craving food and yet believing that I was always overweight and should deny myself that which I craved, made me feel even worse about myself.

As I became an adult, my behavior became a bit like Miley Cyrus, experimenting with control and with my sexuality. At 19 I had my first real love. He wanted to wait to have sex until he was married. I didn’t. I won. We had not been very stringent about using birth control every single time, and I ended up having an abortion. Even though he was lovely and treated me well, there were a few non-negotiable deal breakers that made him not husband material. By age 23 I broke up with him.

The winter after that I worked a job in the Florida keys, cooking on a boat for chicken shit pay.  I didn’t know how to find an affordable place to live, so I fucked one of the guys on the boat repeatedly until I had instilled myself as his girlfriend and became an apartment mate.  After I had worked there for a little while, I fucked any cute guy I set my sights on and hunted down. Not one night stands mind you, I had to know them at least a little bit. It became a game. I never spent the night, just wham bam, thank you ma’am. I thought I was controlling things and having a blast. I also spent my time off work partying, drinking. A few times, I drank way too much.

For the rest of my 20’s when I drank, it was socially, and often just a tad too much. I didn’t know how to blow off steam other than drinking, and my work pattern tended to be to work to excess, and the occasionally blow off steam, drinking to excess.

After that winter in the Keys (it was seasonal work), I got whatever it was out of my system that made me act like a whore, and I changed my ways, at least a little bit. My self-esteem was pretty much in the toilet. I only slept with 3 guys the next winter (also did seasonal work in Florida, but not the same area), one was someone I had a genuine crush on, but two were a one-night, big time-lapse of judgment. And one of those lapses of judgment gave me herpes. The gift that keeps giving and never goes away. Yes folks, there are STD’s that are still out there that aren’t as dangerous as AIDS, and they don’t go away.

Let me give you a side bar on what it’s like to get herpes. The first year or two is hell. The outbreaks are so painful that I couldn’t wear underpants/ pants and had to stay home roiling in pain. I guess it’s like shingles, since it’s a similar virus. And for me, after every outbreak, my immune system would have been compromised and I got sick. One time it was tonsillitis, complete with a fever of 104. No fun when need your house mate take you to the ER on a Saturday night, where you wait 3 hours with a fever of 104 to see a doctor, and then take a taxi home.  Later on, when I had a real job and health insurance, my doctor put me on some meds to keep my outbreaks at bay. What a relief. If you, as a woman, have a herpes outbreak when you deliver a baby, the baby can be blinded or brain-damaged, or worse during a vaginal birth.

After those two winters, I pretty much got the whore out of my system. But my self-esteem was quite low, and I didn’t even know it. But the way I handled alcohol showed it. Fortunately for me, becoming an alcoholic wasn’t in the cards for me because when I drank too much I got sick as a dog, feeling poisoned.

As I grew into a more mature adult, I curbed my drinking and I met the man who would become my husband. After meeting him, there would be no other man who turned my head, even though we didn’t marry for six years.

After discovering Energy Healing and working on myself, I have now healed a lot of behaviors and beliefs that used to give me trouble.  I still have a long way to go, but one of the big things I want to deal with in 2014 is anger. I want to move into a place of total and complete forgiveness towards my brother, who raped me. I want to let that all go, so that part of me will be completely peaceful. That is my intention for 2014.

Stop The Cycle: Parent Consciously!

I came across a brilliant TED talk recently. And what Dr. Shefali Tsabary had to say resonated so deeply within me that I had to share.

Her talk was about how we hurt our children. Now, we don’t have babies and then set out to hurt them. It’s over time, as the baby cries endlessly and won’t stop, as the baby turns into a toddler and won’t do what we want them to do, and as the toddler turns into a child and pushes our buttons every day. We lose our cool. We compare one child to another, telling one, “Why can’t you be more like so-and-so?” We are short with our children, counting down the minutes until bedtime and that glass of wine. We are disappointed in our child that he didn’t make the sports team. It’s not good enough for our child to want to just play outside after school every day, or to play with his Lego’s in his bedroom, he has to do martial arts, play a musical instrument, play sports, be a Boy Scout, or participate in Chess Club, or all of the aforementioned.

It’s one thing if our child begs to play soccer, and lives to play his trumpet. But when we feel they are not good enough, unless they are doing “activities,” that should be a red flag for us. When your child pushes your button daily, and you deal with it by “treating yourself” to a glass of wine, you are not dealing with it. You are pushing it further down. When your child whines and complains and it sets you off, so you lose it; that’s another red flag. We become frustrated and disappointed and ashamed by our children. We go off on our children. We heap judgment on them. We punish them. We hurt them. Most of the time we don’t intend to hurt them. We are not evil. We love them. Then why do we hurt them? We do it because we, ourselves, are hurting.

We are steeped and marinated in the stew of our parent’s issues. Whatever taught them to feel less than, and taught them that they are not good enough just because they exist, gets passed on. We internalize so many things when we are quite small, that it would blow your mind to become aware of all of it. In order to not go crazy, our conscious mind tucks away a lot of the information that comes into our little heads.

For example, once you have worked and worked so consciously and so tirelessly at mastering the art of walking, at some point, it becomes automatic. You don’t think about how to walk, you just do it. The mechanics of it slip into the subconscious level.

Same goes for how we learn about ourselves. Did we learn that WE ARE magnificent, perfect, creations that were brought forth from the most incredible, compassionate and loving energy that we call God? Did we learn that no matter what we DO, who we ARE does not change? Or did we learn that only if we clean up our room and do what we are told, that we ARE OK, and that we are good? That if we do the things that are expected of us, we are worthy? And we extrapolate, often on our own, that if we don’t do our homework when our parents want it done, or don’t do what is expected of us, that we are NOT OK. We are BAD.

And it doesn’t even have to be a parent who smacks us so hard we fly across the room, or a parent who has addiction issues and can’t really parent. Although having a damaged parent at any level will definitely impact a child negatively. One thing my bipolar mother would always do to me when she was manic, was to verbally attack me if I disagreed with her or if I asserted my self-power in any way. Her vicious tongue would cut me to pieces and I learned early to cower and to be able to sense when Mom was manic. I would duck and cover. I also became extremely shy. I didn’t trust myself. And in general, I was not ok.

Hurting a child can be subtle: the parent whose love is always conditional. The parent who praises and in the next breath says but the child could have done better. The child who is raised in a household where they are threatened with going to hell when they die if they don’t live by a certain set of rules. And the child who learns that their worth is determined by the external praise and acceptance by others. This happens when parents tie in a child’s inherent worth to their behavior (see two paragraphs before this).

The key is to realize that when you are set off by your child, you need to dig deep to find out what that is in you that comes up and reacts. When you find at the end of a day of normal life that you are “stressed out,” that should be a signal to you to get the help to figure out what is inside you that is crying to be heard.

I have found, through my own experiences, that when I’ve been set off and then have uncovered and dealt with the reason I was reacting, the button that was being pushed, disappears. It vanishes. Button gone. And yes, it is amazing. Digging up my own crap and muck, sifting through it and healing it has made me not only more peaceful in my own heart, but it’s made me a better parent by giving my son a mother who isn’t being pinged on and who isn’t irritated or reactive anywhere near where she used to be. Also, in my case, in an effort to both help my son with his own issues and to work on myself, I woke up. I had a spiritual awakening that sped up my own personal growth and healing exponentially.

When we can raise our children from a space of our being healthy and whole people, we can then help our children learn their own brilliance. As parents who have worked out our triggers and no longer live in a space of fear and lack and limitation, our children’s self-worth, capability, and responsibility will be tremendous. And they will fly higher than even we can imagine.

Once you have started on the path of parenting consciously, there are a handful of parenting philosophies that will help you teach and mold your children. And one program that I particularly love, partly because it absolutely does NOT advocate punishment, and whose goals are to teach young people to become responsible, respectful and resourceful members of their communities, is called Positive Discipline.

The tools and concepts of Positive Discipline include:

  • Mutual respect.  Adults model firmness by respecting themselves and the needs of the situation, and kindness by respecting the needs of the child.
  • Identifying the belief behind the behavior. Effective discipline recognizes the reasons kids do what they do and works to change those beliefs, rather than merely attempting to change behavior.
  • Effective communication and  problem solving skills.
  • Discipline that teaches (and is neither permissive nor punitive).
  • Focusing on solutions not punishment.
  • Encouragement (instead of praise). Encouragement notices effort and improvement, not just success, and builds long-term self-esteem and empowerment.

Now you know what to do: work on yourself, the parent. And to help learn some awesome parenting tools, you know where to go: check out Positive Discipline.

Shift in Perspective: Power

While watching my Sunday morning soul food, Super Soul Sunday, Iyanla Vanzant was interviewed by Oprah. Something that Iyanla said, triggered a big connection in me, linking together several things that I have learned about life.

Iyanla states that God decided to put her in a black, female body, born to an alcoholic mother and a womanizing father. In my own experience, it is our soul who agrees to the parameters of our life, planned out before we are born. And it is with the blessings of God and all of our guides and counselors in spirit. I have learned that only the strongest souls want to face the most difficult challenges. You see, when we are existing in the spirit plane, we are living in love. We don’t experience negativity there the way we do here in the physical. So, when we pick our sex, nationality, physical and mental challenges, parents and family members, before we come into our current lives, the strongest of us, who want to face the biggest challenges giving us potential to learn some big time lessons, pick some very gnarly situations. We often forget how hard it can be here on the physical plane.

In my experience, I have noticed that people who have been raised in a church, who have come to their spiritual lives through the lens of a church’s paradigm, see God as an individual existing outside themselves, and they often personify him. When things in their lives are not going well, they might blame God for it, or ask, “Why me?” They ask, “What did I do to deserve such bad things to happen to me?”

To me, God isn’t necessarily an individual, it’s the energy that spawns us all and is life. We are all begun from a spark of this energy of unconditional love. Thinking about God in this way, I don’t ever wonder if God loves me, because I am part of the love that is God. And God isn’t judgmental, vengeful, spiteful, or have any of the other human traits that we often ascribe to it. Those are ideas that were originally created in order for churches, many years ago, to be used to control the masses.

So, before I was born, there was a pow-wow between my soul and the other souls in my soul family. We settled on the lessons we wanted to learn during our incarnation, and we created the cast of characters who are in our play. It was decided what sex and race I now am, and who would play my various family members.

The agreement between me and the soul who was my mom, was that she would be mentally ill during this lifetime. She would carry on a pattern of female wounding that was passed down to her from her mother, and it would involve wounding me. It was also decided that she would be white and upper middle class, so there would be the chance for her to get help with her illness. If she had picked to marry someone who had an addiction or a mental illness, the chances are that she never would have been medicated, and her life wouldn’t have been as good as it was. And in turn, I probably wouldn’t have learned my life lessons (one of which is forgiveness). In my picking her to be my mother, it set me up to reinforce a belief that life is pain. Living with her honed my ability to be an empath: to feel other people’s emotions, and to be able to sense danger using my sixth sense. I can tell when someone is lying or is being deceitful.

Being raised by my mother also caused little bits of my soul, my energy to splinter off. Every time she would bark at me, I would cower and in essence gave up a piece of myself. I learned to have no boundaries, to give up bits of me, to give away my energy little by little. I had no sense of self, no healthy boundaries, and lived to please others. I gave myself away for decades.

The agreement between me and my older brother was that he would come in as my brother, and he would prey on me, gain control over me, and sexually violate me. My lesson was to learn to be able to move past feelings of hate and self loathing, and to forgive him. Included in that lesson, was to learn to value and love myself. With the help of a wonderful local psychic healer, during a healing session, I learned that my brother’s soul and I have tried to work out this same lesson before. But in another lifetime, he was a harem owner and I was kidnapped into his harem when I was 12. Things went from bad to worse, and about 6 or 7 years later, I killed myself. During this current incarnation, having this same soul be my brother was chosen to help me be able to move into the place of forgiveness a little more easily than the set up we had before.

As with my mother, I gave up bits and pieces of myself to my brother, beginning when I was very little. I wanted to play with him, and I wanted him to like me. He learned early on that I would do what he wanted. And as we grew up, he would often test me, asking me to do things that I didn’t want to do, or things that didn’t feel good. Every time I would submit to his will, a piece of my soul splintered off. I gave away my energy. I gave away me.

So, I see my life as, in the beginning, coming from a place of people around me doing to me. And in return, I gave myself away, bit by bit. I had no boundaries. No personal boundaries. No energetic boundaries. And deep in my heart, I decided that I was not ok, that there was something wrong with me. And every time my mother would lash out, this feeling was reinforced. Because of all the crazy around me, I learned to not trust my own intuition. To feel ok about life, I ate. Food was my comfort; especially sweets. (To this day, I am amazed that I am not an alcoholic or a drug addict).

And as I grew up, I continued to live this way, and lived with the unpleasant consequences. By the time I was a teenager, had given birth, and had given up my daughter for adoption, something inside me started to get mad. (Sorrow often manifests as anger). Since I had grown up with a caustic tongue occasionally searing me, when I was mad I started to give it back. I also dabbled with bingeing and purging. But I just couldn’t do it. I had no boundaries, and was a people pleaser and a door mat. I listened to what other people thought I should do, not what I felt was right for me. I totally ignored my inner voice and wore the invisible label of “Used Goods.”

By the time I was in my early 20’s, I had graduated from college, worked for a local bank, didn’t like the job, and had no direction in my life. By the grace of God, I had been reading about career choices, and had been trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life, when the message of doing something I like, stuck with me. What did I like? When I figured that out, I dipped my toe in that arena. I took a step in a new direction that changed the course of my life.

So, I struck off in my new direction, weaving a little bit this way, turning a little bit that way, making adjustments as people do. But from time to time, because I was still full of energetic holes, and continued to give my power away, I would act out, or make stupid choices. After breaking up with my first true love of almost 3 years, my choice of work took me several hundred miles from home for 6 months, and I became quite the tramp. It was a time where having sex became a game for me. It gave me a false sense of power to bag my prey. I was proud of the fact that I could have sex with up to 3 different guys in the same day: lunch and an afternoon delight with one. Dinner and sex with another. And a late night tryst with a third. And when I wasn’t working, I drank… too much. Thank goodness I got most of this out of my system during that time away. But drinking more than I should have, and using sex as a game from time to time, stayed with me into my early 30’s, happening less and less frequently as I grew up.

The real work, I have learned, is to hunt down all of these missing pieces that I gave away while I was growing up, and even when I was grown. Some of the biggest pieces of me were given away when my brother raped me repeatedly. Discovering that one was easy to see, but dealing with it has been quite a process. As I find these missing pieces of my energy, the job is to reintegrate them into my whole. There is a woman, Sheila Gillette, who channels angelic wisdom in the name of Theo. Theo calls this process Soul Retrieval. I have learned that there are many ways to bring these bits back to yourself. My favorite is hypnotherapy. Also having psychic healers has helped me a lot.

And as important as finding myself, I have learned to plug up my holes and to stop giving away my energy, my bits and pieces. To stop being a door mat. I’ve done this with conscious awareness (and have to remind myself from time to time).

What it looks like to give away your energy or yourself can look like a lot of different things. In everyday life, it can look like the text-book people pleaser: doing everything asked of you until you have nothing left, volunteering for everything in sight, and giving until you eventually become resentful. It can come out as someone being passive aggressive: not speaking what you really want, settling for less, not dealing with a challenging situation and then becoming vengeful about it, taking out your anger and frustration on another person, when it’s really you that you are mad at.

I am now aware of my personal boundaries: where my energy stops and another’s begins. What this looks like, is respecting myself and taking care of myself. It is taking on only that which I can realistically do, even if it means letting someone down. I make sure to give myself “me” time. It is holding a space of compassion for another person who is in pain or who is struggling, but not stepping in to take away the pain or trials. It is respecting another’s person’s journey and lessons so much that you allow them to figure out how to move through their pain. Of course, I offer help and guidance. But whether that offer is accepted, is not my worry or problem. You can lead a horse to water but you can’t make them drink. And it’s not your job to make them drink.

It is very freeing to change your perspective from one of being a victim, to one where you know that you have power and some control over how your life unfolds. Discovering pieces of you that have been left behind, and bringing them back home, is just one good way to help make that shift.

A Healing In Hypnosis: Giving It To Jesus

For the past few years, I have been using alternative methods of healing to deal with being molested and verbally abused when I was young. I have found a few methods to bring real healing to me: to my spiritual body, to my emotional body, and hopefully soon, to my physical body. One of my favorites is hypnosis. It lets me get to the root of things, and make real change.

For those, who don’t understand, when we get sick, we become sick at levels that are outside of our physical bodies. It is only after time, when we don’t deal with or clear out things like stuck negative emotions such as fear, that the disease finally manifests in our physical bodies. Disease can also carry over from other lifetimes. I’ve seen this particularly with irrational fears.

So, what am I working on healing? I am working on healing my thyroid, my stomach, joint pain, and carrying a lot of extra weight. I am working on releasing a lot of fear that has been trapped in my body for years. I am working on forgiveness towards my mother and my older brother.

How’s it going? Actually, in the past 2 plus years, I have been fast tracked, and have done a lot of amazing healing. And a big chunk of this has been with the help of hypnosis and some talented hypnotherapists. This past spring, I made a commitment to myself to invest time, money, and energy on my healing work, using a hypnotherapist. The first few sessions, are what I see as a settling in period. She got to know me; I got to know her. And in late May and early June, we had a few sessions in particular that found some energy that was ready to move out. Some old, stuck, yucky, crap.

A more recent session began with my hypnotherapist and I talking about how I was feeling very down and depressed and self sabotaging for the past week or more, so we looked at what’s going on. She took me through her induction phase that got me all comfy and relaxed. In fact, sometimes I would get so relaxed that I’d almost fall asleep. But pretty soon, she was asking me questions, and I came back up enough to answer.

She started with a question and I tuned into myself to find the answer. As soon as I turned inward and tuned in, my stomach got very tight and hurt, and my heart was racing. There was fear and black tar like stuff in my stomach. It was awful. When we looked deeper, I saw that I was afraid of the boogie man: my older brother. I was about 5 and he wouldn’t leave me alone. Then she had me put a barrier between us. Next, she asked for a strong mother figure to step in and help me. I imagined my mother as she was when I was little, but not mentally ill. In my scenario, Mom protected me from my brother and looked at him, asking what’s wrong with that boy, for him to act the way he was acting. She decided that he needed a psychiatrist and eventually got my brother into counseling, where the counselor declared that yes, he was defective (this part was almost a bit cartoonish). As soon as that hit me- that my brother was defective, the waterfall of tears hit.

In hypnosis, I can begin to create scenarios in my mind, and then something will take over and connect dots, or create breakthroughs. It’s like an Aha Moment will happen. That’s what happened when I realized that when we were young, it was my brother that was defective and not me. It was my mother who was mentally ill, not me. It was the shit swirling around me, and the craziness I grew up in that was all fucked up. Not me.

As is so very common, when a child grows up in a dysfunctional home, they often (if not always) take on beliefs that they are somehow at fault. They are not enough. They are less than. They are defective. And even though I know, as an adult, that things were NOT my fault, to experience this epiphany at the subconscious level, in hypnosis, is a whole different ball of wax.

As soon as I had the intense realization, I was surrounded by my angels, guides, and family. I could sense this wonderful crowd of support surrounding me. Then black, yucky, horrible stuff started flying out of my stomach and my stomach began to fill with gold sparkly energy that was partly mine and partly from Jesus. Jesus stepped forward and held out his hands, telling me to hand him all my burdens, that he would take them all. (I bawled harder). He told me to leave nothing behind; that he would take it all. The black energy just flowed to him as I filled up with good stuff. This went on for a while, and I got the message that it would continue on for the rest of the day, until the process was complete.

The big message that came through loud and clear, other than the fact that I was not defective, was that I am a child of God. And as such, I am perfect. Yes, I have imperfections, but that’s just because I’m human, and people do stuff that isn’t perfect. It’s the message that the “I” that is “me” (I guess I’m talking about the I AM) is perfect. And that I don’t have to stuff “I am defective”, down my throat into my stomach any longer.

I know that a huge layer of healing happened that day. It affected my emotional eating in a positive way. And I have a feeling that my stomach got a big healing as well. Now I wait to see when this affects my physical body. In some instances, the effects of this sort of healing can move into the body immediately. (That’s when people say that a miracle has happened). But more often, it takes time. How much time? Who knows? A few weeks? A few months? At this point, it’s not mine to say, and I’m not even going to begin to guess. This is the part where I’ve done my work, and I give the rest to the universe, to God.

And in order to assist in and assure my resting, I recently broke my foot and had reparative surgery on it just a few days ago. I am required to sit with my foot elevated. And as I sit and rest, the healing energies are doing their thing. The universe works in mysterious ways!