I was very good at pretending to be a good girl.
I listened to my parents and teachers. I followed the rules, played nicely with others, shared my toys.
I defended the kids who got picked on. I read my Bible, said my prayers and asked for forgiveness.
To all appearances, I was good. Until I wasn’t.
When I was 13 years old, I babysat an infant named Sammy. She cried and cried, and I couldn’t get her to shut up. In my frustration, I pinched her chubby leg. Hard.
In that moment, I was a child abuser.
When my younger Christian friends asked me what a “blow job” was, I told them. I felt proud of myself for telling them a truth I thought they deserved to know, but secretly I just enjoyed talking about sex.
In that moment, I was a pervert.
One day I was exercising to an aerobics video on TV. My brother came to me with a question and so enraged me that I kicked him in the mouth, chipping his tooth.
In that moment, I was a psychopath.
I am all and none of these things.
I’ve tried to reject these aspects of my experience and hide them from the world. Who would love me if they saw the ugliness of my shadow?
I’ve been withholding love from myself because of these flaws.
What if I accepted all that is within and without? Would my shadow swallow me whole if I allow it?
My experience is that integration brings transformation. That which was hard and unyielding softens in the warmth of self acceptance.
When judgement is relinquished, I am no longer compelled to express through the shadow in order to earn my hatred and prove how awful I am. I no longer need to act out in order to be seen fully.
The light and the dark together create the balance of being. Oneness.
