Loving the Humans Who Created You

The relationship between my mother and I has evolved and blossomed and it was not always easy to get to where we are today. It took me more than half of my life to realize that my mother really did everything that she could to the best of her abilities. She worked hard, she protected me, and she made me the woman I am in this moment. I had to break down the walls of my ego, judgement, and blaming tendencies for taking all that I received from her during my childhood and perpetuate it into the world around me.

I saw myself inside of her, our body shapes, our mannerisms, and our ways of being were so identical to me that I hated to "turn out the way she did." My anger started very young because of my feelings of rejections, feeling like the pariah in my family, feeling and seeing the relationship between my mother and I was different than the relationships between my other siblings. I asked for affection and was rejected. I did not understand and it made me become cold because I did not know what affection meant. Without receiving it, it was foreign to me. In elementary school I had a hard time keeping my focus because of the abuse I saw my father project onto my mother. I remember getting ready for school and running downstairs into the kitchen where my mother made my school lunch. I was happy, until I looked at her and a panic of anxiety dropped down through my body as if I was in an elevator falling to my death when I saw her eye was swollen shut, black and blue, and she had been crying... I did not know what to say. She could not look at me and all I wanted was to help her. What can I do? Mama, what happened to your eye?

She said, "A bee stung me."

I knew in my heart it was not true, I knew because the memory of my father beating my mother as I screamed from the top of the stairs to stop flooded my mind. He did this. He, a man that was so far gone because of his choices to be a victim to his life, battered the woman that created me.

Years later I lost all hope, I felt numb, I felt why was I born? Why do you hate me God? Why did I choose these two humans to be my parents? Why, why, why? I did not want to be black, I did not want to be poor, I did not want to be ugly, I did not want to have coarse hair, I did not want to be me. I blamed my parents for all the trauma I was put through. I blamed my mother for allowing a man to beat her, steal from her, and leave us to sleep in a hospital or a shelter where the organizer watched me as we slept. I blamed myself for being born. I wanted to die. I was 14 when my life changed forever, when the fear of not knowing where I would sleep was an overwhelming realization that I did not want to live like this. When the school administrators looked at my mother like a crazy person because she asked for help. A woman asks for help and NO ONE helped her. People took advantage, talked down to my mother because they knew their floor was our home for a short period of time. I watched and fearfully kept my mouth shut, letting all the anger and sadness build until... "You cannot speak to her this way." "Who the fuck do you think you are talking to!" "Do not yell at my mother" "Shut the fuck up!" Anger and rage coursed through my veins. I wanted to punish every person that hurt my mother with my words and hands. We were kicked out of three different homes because I could not let another person abuse my mom. She dealt with enough, she did her best, she took so much abuse. Enough was enough. Deep inside of my heart I knew I felt the same way she did. A victim to her surroundings made her weak was my thoughts. How could you let this man ruin your life and not say no or leave? Judgement, hatred, brat!

19, hungry, broke, and scared. I started stealing money from my place of work to eat... I went days without food and if I could get a candy bar, cracker, or anything to eat, I would steal $1-5 when possible for 1 week. My conscious knew it was not okay and when I asked my co workers or bosses for food, I was rejected. I had to do what I had to do. May 18, 2009 I walked into work, lost preventions and my boss asked me to step into the office. I knew the time had come... I was vulnerable and wanted to be honest. I told the truth that I stole money to eat because I was hungry, I had no help, my family was poor. I was hoping my honesty would show mercy for my actions. A white sheet of paper was slid towards me and through teary eyes I signed it without asking what was going on. Before the paper was slid I heard some of what was said around me but not all. "If you sign this paper you will get to go home." "If she stole 1-5$ a day for the amount of time she has been here, that $300." I was not listening or present to understand the plot to get me sent to jail until I signed the paper and the words "you have the right to remain silent" washed over me like a wave that you know will knock you down and keep you under water until it is ready to release you.

I was shocked, I said "You said I could go home if i signed this paper."

He said "well what you did is punishable and you are going to jail today," through a smirk across his lips.

Shit! I knew my mother was waiting outside in the parking lot as she did every day when she dropped me off. Most times it was because she did not have anywhere to go, or she would sit there to think about the next plan for her and my brother.

"Blair!" she screamed. "What did you do? What did you do!"

She screams at me as she shook my body while my hands were behind my back in tight handcuffs. I felt like a person in a movie, that moment they realize they are in deep shit, and the high pitched ring begins to drown out all sound around them. Their breath intensifies, their vision blurs. This was me. The rain covered my tears but my eyes red and hurting looked down at the ground as I was pushed into the back of the police car.

Shame, guilt, blame, and hate was what I felt for my mom. This is your fault that I am in jail. You could not provide for me or my brother, you are weak, you are nothing, I hate you. Thoughts corrupted my mind and my relationship with my mother changed for the worse. I fought with her and my brother out of retaliation. I packed my things, moved in with my boyfriend and called her to tell her I would not be coming back. For six years, holidays were uncomfortable, family visits were uneventful, I didn't dare stay more than three days. I visited to make my mom happy, not because I truly wanted to be there. I slowly started to not identify myself with my family although I would pretend my family was so great with my friends. I hated this feeling. It felt I was suffocating under myself. I knew I was living a lie. I had to change. I wanted to change. I wanted to break free.

I started a training The Gratitude Trainings in West Palm Beach Florida. A life changing experience to say the least, and a powerful set of tools to build the life you desire while believing you can. Everything is possible. I am creator. What I want to see in the world starts within. Discovery, breakthrough, mastery. I did the trainings and started discovering the Blair that I knew has locked in the body and behind the walls that I built when I was young. little by little and patiently I did my work. I stared in the face of fear and looked into the eyes of myself. I am worthy, I am whole, I am perfect, I am complete, I am capable, I am strong, I am bold, I am loving, I am. I started believing the words repeated to myself daily to create a new language for myself and those that I was in relationship to. I called my mother and noticed my joy to speak with her, how everything she said made me giggle and aww at the sweetness of her voice. I wanted to know about her, I wanted to know what it was like when I was in her tummy, I wanted to know if she was happy that I existed. Her answers moved me and made me realize the only person that held me back was me. My appreciation for life and changing the way I viewed the woman who birthed me started changing my love. I understood that she really did do the best she could with what she had and she did it like a boss. The strong, independent queen of a woman did and raised 5 successful children.

It Didn't Start With You is a book of bold creation and heartfelt work by Mark Wolynn. He says inherited family trauma shapes who we are and the cycles can end with you. "The repetition of trauma is not always an exact replica of the original event. In a family in which someone has committed a crime, for example, someone born in a later generation could atone for that crime without realize he or she is doing so." Turn the ghost to ancestors, understand the trauma and allow it to be apart of your history. There is power in all the things that have happened in my life. There is power in facing it and acknowledging it for what it is and nothing more.

Elena Brower is a yogi and mentor. Spiritual Parenting is a video on YouTube that I have watched for 5 years. The purpose of the video is to connect yourself with your parents. To know you cannot call yourself divine if you have not healed what needs to be healed between your parents. Our parents did what they did because that was all they knew. Our parents really did love us in the ways they knew of love. The ways they were taught to love. Realizing this set me free and changed my concepts of love. If we do not clean up how we viewed our parents, the cycle will perpetuate and our children will pick up the feelings for our parents without us realizing it. "love thy parents and though wilt love me, and indeed whoever does not love his parents cannot love God." Did you love you parents, did you love them as they deserved, and how should we have loved. These humans are still humans, their necessities for sustaining a meaningful and loving life is connected to you and every human. Apologizing for the things I did, what I took into my world and perpetuated it, and blamed my parents for my actions showed me that I can change and rewrite my story at any time.

I see you mom, for the beautiful example of what is possible on this planet in terms of loving your children. I see you for all the pain you dealt with and all the trauma you got through every day. You chose to not give in, you chose to keep fighting because your love for me and my siblings outweighed whatever came your way. You chose to birth me and bring another person into your family that loves you so dearly for all the work you did to raise us. I see you for taking the physical punches from my father and choosing to be strong. I see you for every woman that deals with physical abuse. I see you for the spiritual being you are. I see you when at our family reunion, my brothers, sisters, and I sang "I Will Always Love You" by Whitney Houston to you and you let it into your heart how much we love you and praise you for existing. Triumphing, caring, fighting, and loving me they way you have always. I love you, I honor you, I cherish you, I will always love you.