Day 3: Mom's Mirror of Shame

Day 3  Moms mirror of shame.

I have shared this story so many times with clients of mine, with friends, but never in this way. 

I was 4 or 5, sitting on the edge of my mothers bed, watching her put her makeup on and snap earrings - getting ready for a date - a night out with my dad. I distinctly remember sitting there, watching her with big doe eyes, absorbing how she applied her mascara, her blush, her red lipstick, her dangly earrings. I held my breath as I watched her finger her hair, a short pixie cut, like Audrey Hepburn, and coiffed it just so. I was in love with the woman in the mirror. My mother. She was a goddess, unlike anything I had ever witnessed. And I wanted to be just like her one day when I got older.

And then, in a split second, all my visions and feelings of appreciation and love were snuffed out by her next move.

She stood up, flattened out the front of her pink short cut dress, turned sideways and placed her hand on her belly. The belly that had just delivered 3 children in 5 years. And with a deep inhale, holding her belly in, pressing it deeper with her hand, she said with a huff, “Uh, I’m just so fat.” with a look of disgust on her face she stared back at herself and I no longer saw the goddess.

What I saw was a woman, hating and shaming her body for not being what she was told it should be. What I saw was a woman who just moments before seemed as if she loved looking at herself in the mirror. A woman who went from love and adoration straight to judgmental, disgust and shame. 

I remember being so confused and a little scared. What was she doing? Why was she saying those hurtful and untrue things to herself? Where did my goddess go? It was in that moment, that I thought, “I must not understand how beauty works. I must not know what being beautiful really means.” I mean, moms knew everything and to that little girl, I took it in and became that. Sad, confused, shameful and embarrassed about how I look.

It didn’t help that I had super crooked teeth as a child, so I really didn’t like smiling anyway. And why I preferred to roam around outside where I could feel free - with no mirrors and no judgments.

I never got the chance to ask my mom about her shame, her low self worth because by the time I had the guts to explore this topic for myself, she had transitioned. I would ask her now, who told you you had to look a certain way for you to be the goddess I see you as? What thoughts did you grow up believing about yourself, your body and your place in the world? Was it your faith, the shame/sin paradox that put you up to those thoughts about yourself? Was it a family member or society at large? Where and when did your self judgment become so volatile?

And since I cannot ask her directly, I ask my own body these questions and sit in stillness, waiting for the reply. Sometimes, no reply comes. Sometimes my lower abdomen gurgles. Sometimes I hear a soft loving voice from within that says, “gently my dear, gently.” In the moments in between I sense a wellspring of tears flooding into my heart and feel my ancestors surround me with their compassion, grace and forgiveness. And i know I am right where i am supposed to be, still, gentle and forgiven.

DAY 3 Reframe - Rewrite

Why do we want to rewrite our stories? To make up something else that feels better? No, that's not really why we practice this. It is because the story you tell yourself was clouded by conditions, fearful thinking and what you were observing with your 5 senses. Life is so much deeper than that - and that means, you may have overlooked some pretty big details along the way that are important to the truth of the story - for you.

For example, in the story I just spoke about, sitting at my mom’s dressing table with her, I have no idea what was actually going through her mind as she was applying her makeup and sucking in her belly. I have no idea how long those thoughts had been pulsating through her mind and body - probably since she was my age. I have no idea about the pain childbirth may have caused her, the changes a woman must go through as a mom. Since I have no children of my own I will never know that. 

I saw what I wanted to see. When it was beautiful and lovely - my mind had an easy time of creating a story that felt good. The very moment the energy shifted, my story shifted. Thats how sensitive I am. That is a gift. When my mom turned sideways and told herself that story, I now see that she hadn’t been taught about self love and being compassionate with herself - her mom most likely hadn’t either.

I never thought I made what she said my issue, but I did. I did when I internalized her reaction to herself as bad, as confusing and “wrong”. This is what happens to us when we, as small children, don’t understand the pain or fear we feel. We internalize it and turn it on ourselves (thats what the ego does - makes it all about us - for protection) and tuck away the story for a later time as proof of how the world works. This is a gift. To see how intricate our own minds are that it will do and say anything to protect and keep you alive. I didn’t say happy or true. I said alive.

I am now focused on being not only happy and true to myself, but to use every single moment moving forward to see and feel the best in the situation. Sometimes it is a real task, and somedays it’s super easy. Everyday is a chance to fall into the arms of your own guidance, your own trust, your own truth and call it a day.

Shame comes in many ways to teach us just how incredibly worthy we are - simply by existing. Shame no longer controls my life, my relationships or how I show up. Shame and I will always be good friends, but for now, at least, I am taking the path less traveled. The one where shame is a memory. Join my workshop Oct 28-Nov 1 to get deeper insights about how shame is blocking you from fully, wholehearted living authentically. www.donnianastasia.com/5dayworkshop