the losses that makes us who we are

the power of choosing yourself when you've been disowned

i’m sitting here with my one year old, sky. i have a radically different life than i’ve ever had before. i’m happy. close up deadface

i’ve had a lot to learn through in life. one of the biggies was being disowned when i was 20 for being queer. it was my mother’s doing, but everyone followed suit. i don’t think about it much anymore, although it contributed to my suicidal aura for many years.

i learned that things are often not what they seem and the human heart is no exception. trauma, especially generational and ancestral trauma create pathways and patterns that are difficult to challenge and even harder to truly transform for some. i can’t always separate what part trauma, what part homophobia with my family.

the tangle is part of it.

because of my hellbent drive toward my own healing and freedom, i no longer own blame. my family is free to be and so am i. i am incredibly fortunate to be able to say that and feel it. i have been surprised and relieved at the compassion and care i feel inside toward them. although things are forever changed and we remain nearly estranged, there’s no animosity. no need at this point.

i found out on facebook today that my father is in the hospital and in surgery as i write this. i send him love. immense love. my father was the best thing in my life as a child. i know he will find his way, either to stay or to let go. i know this because of him. my father taught me about death and what he knew of the heart. i know our spirits are in contact as they always have been. and there is peace.

being disowned challenged me to define myself, choose myself, be myself…or leave this place. but here is where i belong. in my body, with my baby and my partner, here on mamiearth, a stunning and generous home. and even standing as a distant witness to my family gathering around and supporting each other has a poignant beauty to it.  i am strong. and i am soft. i can see the shape of things and let go. into the flow. because i know…

i belong. to myself.

i belong. to the sky.

tu eres mi otro yo.

life is life.

travel safely dad,

land gently where you belong.

xoxoxoxox

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6 Comments

  1. Ruth (Cuca) Olivar Millan

    You have always been an inspiration….through your books and through your art. While teaching I just couldn’t ever put your books down.
    I have grown older and the path has been bumpy ……being abused/tortured as a child was something I have tried to let go. and forget……but still as a ripe 67 year old women I should let go the night mares still haunt me.

    • thank you so much for commenting ruth. i pray into all of my books to be present in spirit with everyone who holds it. i’m glad we could connect in that way. it can be so tricky to heal abuse. that was something else i needed to attend to. i found that working with my body therapeutically made all the difference in the world, beyond talk therapies. i worked with a form connected to ‘somatic experiencing’ and a therapist who had mentored with someone who worked with torture survivors. our bodies are our sacred home. big blessings on you sweetness. xomaya

  2. Oh, my dear, sweet Maya…my heart is with you and your beautiful spirit. Look at your painting in our beautiful book, My Diary from Here to There, and remember it’s “me and my dad”, you and your dad. Read the words: “you are stronger than you think.” Forgiveness makes you stronger. I know. Love and peace to you always.

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