This morning I went to a sober dance meet with a friend for their birthday. It was my first time there. I have wanted to go for so long, but the resistance in my to good things has always stopped me.

I made a card before I went. A practice of giving love with no expectations. The card was not as fancy or creative as I would have wanted it to be. It’s the thought that counts. I stuck some gem stickers on the front in the shape of a heart.

I realised while writing the letter that I credit this friend for helping save my life. They introduced me to my shamans – this is such a short sentence, and yet it holds a lot of weight. I want to say I wonder where I would have ended up if it wasn’t for the introduction. I know where I would have ended up. I know it. This is why that short sentence packs so much weight.

The dance meet is big on consent and no touching. I went just to dance in the same space as my friend. When the DJ started playing the first song, I realised he was singing into the microphone. I knew I was in the right place. Perfect alignment.

It was weird to be feeling so much joy and freedom, and at the same time, having tears stream down my face. Love is so difficult for me to experience. Pure love is so hard for me to experience. I have experienced a lot of hardship in my short time on this Earth so far. I ‘forgot’ my entire existence as a way to cope. When memories come back to me, the difficult ones, it is a double edged sword. It cuts me in two ways. The first is experiencing the memory. The pain, confusion, fear, anger, sadness, hurt, lack of love, that’s one part. Often, when I am first experiencing a memory, it is way too much for my delicate Being to experience, and it quickly gets pushed down again, from where it came. The other side of the sword is the realisation these experiences happened to me as child. This is the second time I have experienced these events. This cuts the deepest. My adult self can’t handle the pain in the present moment, how on Earth did it feel to experience this through a child’s eyes?

So like how I bury the pain, today I buried the love. Exposure therapy is little bits of the emotion, feeling, thought, at a time. I do want to feel my feelings. I want all of my feelings. I need to pace myself.

I came straight home to meet with who I call my Peruvian Family. The group I met Mother Ayahuasca with. I struggle to work out if Mother Ayahuasca helped me the most on that trip, or whether it was the connections with this new family of mine. The jury is still out.

I had my share and was witnessed in such a beautiful way. They could the light within me. The word that was used was ‘purity’. One mentioned witnessing me a few months back. Seeing this fire in me to keep going, to dig deeper, the endless search. They questioned quietly to themselves ‘to what end is all this’. Today they reflected back that they saw the end. They saw the reason for my search. I am not done yet. I am not even close.

In other shares from my family, which I will not disclose, I was shaking so hard. A purge of sorts. I connect with each of them on different levels. Our stories are not the same. The hurt is very similar though. I am the luckiest person to have met them. I am the luckiest to have met them in the way that I did. Divine intervention.

Tonight before bed, I could sense anger towards me. I sat on the couch with Cora. I sang to her this song:

You do not have to carry this,

All alone.

It is way too big for you to carry this,

On your own.

~~~

Over and over. The tears bubbled up as I sang more deeply into it. The parts of me within who could feel my sincerity of the words. The realisation of how much, how long I have carried this all alone. I am pretty sure it’s not even me carrying it. It is the Little Girls within me doing the carrying. The ones lugging it around. It is not theirs to hold. It must feel like some sense of control that they weild by holding onto it. They are slowly giving it up to me, slowly as I build trust with them. No, that’s not right. As I rebuild trust with them, they give it up slowly.

It hurts me so much to cry. It is physically unbearable, which is a problem in itself.

I forgot to say, this morning, in my dream, I was told Grandma is with Dad right now. I am not 100% of this meaning. I woke up to a voice note from my parents too. They learnt how to send me one, which is so cute in itself. I wonder if there was an emotional release after they sent it. A realisation or processing of what they sent to me. They reiterated that they felt deeply connected to me on their trip here. I keep saying that I have never felt that connected to my parents before that trip. I think my denial of it is still at play. Again, feeling love, pure love is very difficult for me.

You do not, have to carry this, all alone.

It is way too big, for you to carry this, on your own.

Lots of love,

Kate