He warned me that his father had a strong personality. I liked strong and I liked personality so this didn’t scare me. He warned me that he would push my buttons. It wasn’t until almost a year later that I realized that I truly loved having my buttons pushed. It was an avenue to find a wound, and without finding the wound it is hard to heal it. At the time, I didn’t have enough self-love to have my buttons pushed and enjoy it.
I genuinely enjoyed his father's energy, which was hard for him to understand because they struggled on many levels. I could talk with him for hours. While there wasn’t a genetic bond with his oldest son (my closest spirit guide) they embodied many of the same energies. It wasn’t surprising to me, once I got to know them both, that they found each other and agreed to be family. His father would stand just outside someone's comfort zone and poke them with words enough to make the person squirm in their seat. His father would do this poking with fliration in his voice, confidence in his core and growth in his words. The bluntness and emotional disconnection in which they both demanded growth was humbling, and also exactly how I liked to be challenged.
This was early in our interactions. We were still getting to know each other. Samuel told his father about me and his father knew that I was a medium and interacting with his late son. I often thought about what it must feel like to meet someone who was claiming to interact with a child whom you lost too early.
We were walking outside and he asked with a levelness and calmness in his voice that I can still feel. “So, you like gardening. How long have you been doing it”
“I love it, it is seared into my soul. I have been gardening all of my life. It was taught to me as a child and woven into every aspect of my life” I said back.
We kept walking. I realized that his questions were deeper than words, he was digging into my soul.
“You like being a mom?” he asked.
“I love it.” I said but didn’t feel like I needed further explanation. I truly loved it and it was that simple.
“Are you a shape changer?” he asked. The question was blunt and caught me off guard.
“What do you mean” I asked as I felt my hackles coming up.
“Are you pretending to be what my son wants?” he asked.
It evoked an immediate and intense response from deep inside my body. How dare you question the very things that make me who I am? How dare you press me on the things that I hold dearest and closest to my heart. How dare you imply that being with your son was worth being a shadow of who I am. Instead, I said back “Gardening and being a mom are core parts of who I am”.
Some of things that define me as a human include being a mother and farmer. They rest in my body like a truth that I could never deny. It wasn’t until about 18 months later that I realized his questions were just words. They were literally just simply words strung together. They were so much more than words. They were flashlights, rather floodlights, giving insight into a wound that I wasn’t ready or able to heal at that moment….. I wasn’t even willing to call it a wound because if I did then I would have to address it and it is easier to deny something than to own it and need to address it. At the time, I didn’t understand that me being triggered was because I had a wound. It happened to be a deep wound around self-worth. What his father was triggering in me was my own fear that I needed to change who I was to make his son love me. It took me a lot of tears and work but ultimately I healed that wound around self-worth.
So, now if he asked me the same question I would respond differently. “Gardening and being a mother are core parts of who I am, they light my world up and fill my cup. I am being true to myself and your son happens to like that about me. Gosh, I hope that I change shape. I hope that I never get too rigid to grow and learn and change. I want to evolve and grow into a better version of myself. But if you are asking me if I am changing who I am to impress your son the answer would solidly be no.”
At the time, it was easy to say that he was being an ass. Now, it is easy to say that I had unhealed wounds and self worth issues and his words made them obvious in 2 seconds. It is ok to own your bullshit. Actually, it should be required.
