Ridiculous. Weak. Perfectionistic. Wary. Hypervigilant. Ineffective. Nagging. Unsure. Controlling. Uncontrollable. Timid. Disappointing. Wild. Wounded. Bad. Pathetic. Victimy. Slutty. Prudish. Ignorant. Stoic. Worthless. Needy. People-pleaser. Shameful.

...the things you were taught to say to yourself, about yourself, that are...violent.

That erase you.

This is the violence we were born into.

~~~

The "she" in the subject line is my mother. She was recounting a story about me as a child to her husband, my husband, and me. "You were a real hellcat!" she said, her eyes wide, her voice exaggerated for effect, her teeth showing in a not unpleasant hellcat-ish grimace.

It echoed what my grandmother said to me, prior to her death in 2015 at the age of 98, about my mother as a child: “She was defiant, headstrong like her father."

For fun, I googled "hellcat" and found references to wild and wanton female characters in movies from the early 20th century to war machines to muscle cars. From the dictionary: "a spiteful, bad-tempered woman; shrew."

Also, "a woman with magic powers derived from evil sources; witch."

Funnily enough, when my mother said that to me, I felt seen by her in a way I don't think I've ever felt seen. I liked it. It was certainly better than the contempt she expressed when she indicated that I was weak, pathetic, and passive ... "like your father."

~~~

A meme went around on Facebook a while back with a bunch of photos of different kinds of light: firelight, starlight, candlelight, sunlight, streetlight, and so on. I showed them to my husband and asked him, "which kind of light am I?" Without hesitation he said, "Lightning…and also Northern Lights."

I was pleased with his answer. He sees my spirit and my mystery. And he likes it.

Because I see me. And I like my spirit and my mystery.

Lightning. Hellcat. Disrupter. Expressive Rebel. Wild Horse. Mysterious. Audacious. Fierce Love. Heart Wide Open. With Dignity.

Unshamed.

I can tell you all day long how to set boundaries with your mother. How to deal with your mother. How not to let her trigger you. How to manage it when she gets old and needs your help when that's the last thing you want to do. These are important things.

But what then? What about WHO YOU ARE? Beyond "coping" with your mother?

I want you to step outside this drama triangle that wants to keep you feeling, by turns, furious, devastated, hopeless, and ashamed. I want you to free yourself from the dynamic, not find better ways to operate within it.

You are better than that. Full stop. Right now. Not in the future. Now.

I am calling you in to create the freedom, authenticity, and safety you crave in your relationships, your work, your creativity, your parenting. Your leadership.

As someone who has created that kind of freedom and safety, I can tell you that it's not set-it-and-forget-it. It is so very easy to forget in a moment of stress. Even in a moment of joy.

It's fleeting.

I'm not supposed to tell you that because it's a bummer, yeah?

What I can also tell you is there's nothing more thrilling and life-affirming than catching yourself forgetting, then remembering, then showing up from that place. Summoning the emotional experiences you want to have because when you have them you like yourself. You respect yourself.

And that, my friend, is what makes me a hellcat. :-)

I don't know about you, but I love being fully alive and able to HOLD life in whatever form it comes, not by myself, not with pretend confidence, and certainly not perfectly, but with grit and softness and surrender and power and a wise smile and hysterical laughing and the kind of sobbing that wrings you out.

I'm a poet and a crone and a goofball: I want everyone I touch to feel the contradiction and the paradox.

I'm an adult daughter, a stepmother, and a Booboo:, I want everyone I touch to feel the hard back and soft front of my compassion, to remind you that life happens now and it's silly and awful and magical and mundane.

When it hurts.

In your weak moments.

When you give away your power.

When you don't ignore the seemingly-innocent-but-violent-nonetheless inner voice that tells you that it wasn't a mistake or a fluke, but rather because you're innately bad...a failure. A loser. Pathetic. Nothing.

That voice isn't the problem. It will always be there. The problem is that you believe it and you let it be the authority.

And thank the stars for that because it's way easier to not let it be the authority than it is to get rid of it.

Take a moment here to pause and remind yourself of both the reality and the possibility of your extraordinary life.

You're already existing – inhaling and exhaling – with your future self, your intentional identity.

You just have to be willing to acknowledge it. To trust it. To hold it...or the possibility of it.

This is the practice. This is how we know ourselves. In every given moment when we're uncomfortable and holding our breath and waiting for the other shoe to drop.

The reason I love writing and language is because the moment you have words for what's happening...

…you can step into it more fully. Choose it. Reject it.

You have a choice to speak yourself into existence or to keep erasing yourself.

I am inviting you to kick it up a notch with me. To elevate the conversation. To go beyond coping. To go beyond the violence of shame.

Sure, you'll have access to my logical brain (the strategy side of things, boundaries, "how to," etc.), but we're going to go wider and deeper. You'll get the soft animal side of me, who co-regulates with you, AND you'll get the hellcat who reflects back to you the goddamn truth of you, no matter how beautiful it is.

And? I get that not everyone wants my version of freedom.

Much, much love,

Hellcat :-)
Karen