Rewrite My Past

PC: Soul

After reading a section of the book Earth, I felt a desire to work with my timelines and rewrite my past in relation to my parents.

I pondered, which part of my past with my parents did I want to rewrite?

I thought back and realized, my parents have loved me well.

I truly feel that I knew that they were always doing their best, loving me the best way they knew how.

If anything, they probably feel like they failed because I grew up an adult that defied most, if not all, of their ideas of ‘right’ and ‘good’.

I realize that the one thing I’d want to change is the recent past, where they are unhappy with my choice of life/romantic partner.

I’d not really experienced a lot of pushback about my choices and path until this part of my life.

It’s been challenging and interesting and eye-opening to see and experience where I stand with myself, with my parents.

And I also know, I don’t prefer to keep telling the story about my parents not accepting my partnership.

How they feel about it,

what they say about it,

their reasons and justifications.

I have decided to rewrite the near past,

letting it expand my present,

channel it into my future.

The rewriting is:

My parents love and accept me for who I am.

Simple.

Easy.

Done.

My parents love and accept me for who I am.

I choose this.

And this overrides anything they’ve said,

anything they say,

and anything they will say.

This is the truth that feeds my heart and my soul,

expanding my being-ness and the experience that is my life.

I can sit here and run through all the transcripts of what they’ve said, how they’ve acted, their disapproving disappointed looks,

and document that as my story.

But why?

Why hold onto this boring ass story about their culture and conditioning?

Why retell something that’s been lived and relived generations on generations?

Why replay their story?

I realize, rewriting stories and the past involves a certain level of crazy,

a certain level of blindness to what ‘actually’ happened,

a certain deafness.

It requires a certain level of desire to feel good in the moment, letting it surpass the seemingly cemented truth of my memories.

And, in this moment, I’m with it.

I’d rather live in my world of fantasy and “make-believe”, giving my parents the benefit of the doubt,

giving myself space to dream, to expand into my journey and self,

forgiving myself the judgment that I’d placed on my parents for their transgressions.

Writing all this, I realize, rewriting the past, is not so much about the past, as it is about the very very present moment.

Retelling my story in the light that shines most brightly on myself, on my parents, on our relationship, on our journeys,

gives me the liberation and permission to live even more fully into me,

into the Grace I’ve chosen to become,

into the daughter I want to be.

It rewires my present in a way that there are no wires, no strings, no cables tying me to a memory, which is really just a neuro-habit, not anything actually substantial enough to base my current life, thinking, beliefs on.

I am free to walk my present in pure desire of what I want in this given moment,

rather than walk in accordance with a ball and chain of past troubles, issues, conflicts.

In the end, it’s all about freedom, for me.

Freedom to be, freedom to live, freedom to love, freedom to desire all the things, and freedom to receive all the things.

It’s about giving myself the freedom for it all,

giving my parents and whoever else, the freedom to say, do, act, BE differently.

After repeating that phrase (My parents love and accept me for who I am) a couple times, I felt chill, at peace, comfortable.

I let it float away,

knowing that it is done.

And I remember that really, in the end, it’s my own love and acceptance for myself that sets me free.

I feel like, in choosing to rewrite the past, it was an act, an exercise of loving and accepting myself,

loving and accepting what is,

loving and accepting my desires,

loving and accepting my freedom.

This is the bare concrete raw truth.

So it is.

x,

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Walking my journey, evolving endlessly into the Me I came to Be.

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