Let it breathe

* sorry for the random bullet points, im writing this on my phone and I hit some  weird key that caused it.****

4:30 A.M. I’m  in Michigan at my parents house and I can’t sleep anymore.  It’s only 3:30 South Dakota  time.

So many ironies right now, though I’m grateful for them. I’m here because I’ve reached that stage everyone reaches where your roles are reversed with your parents and you show up to show them your gratitude for raising, feeding and educating you.  Well, at least that’s why  I’m  here.

It’s been no secret and I’ve been very public and honest about how horrible  my childhood was and how I escaped  to SD and minus a few times, never looked back. But in that time of living my life, 18 + years went by and the most beneficial  and sacred event, was my daughter’s  birth.  Her arrival  and raising(thus far) gave me what therapy and writing  never fully could.  Healing. It healed me everyday in ways I couldn’t  tell or see. I’d see glimpses or moments. Divine moments where I’d be so grateful that she was a free soul, an individual,  with autonomy who knew her body and her soul were hers and hers alone. Her clear concept of her own boundaries made me proud as her parent because  obviously  I/no one had that in our home growing up. Especially  the first 8 years of pure hell.

Seeing my daughter grow and BE, helped heal me in silent ways because the scars of my childhood  were fading. The horrors I faced (I thought) would never be acknowledged, but every time my daughter’s emotional needs got met, or her spirit grew even bigger after some celebratory event/life moment  it was healing me. Because  I was doing exactly what I wanted to do  when I bore my child. That was to raise a human with no soul wounds and not damage her or bully her just because I was bigger and could.

My daughter is perfect. Absolutely  perfect. I am NOT perfect. I lose my mind I lose my zen, I’m crabby sometimes. But in all that, she is okay, I am okay, and we are okay.

  • When she was born I expected  perfection from myself because all I knew was hell. I failed the perfect part about a month in, and it took me about another three years to be okay with it because I’d check into the big picture, and in that, she was this amazing little human on her own track in life who knew who she was, where she came from where she was going and most of all, she knew she was loved and wanted! THAT, for me, as a survivor, is perfection achieved.
  • Now let me bring this back to the immediate  present.  I stayed away from my childhood  home for nearly two decades. And before I go on let me remind long time readers and inform new readers that my adopted mom re married when I was twelve  her new husband, my step dad was NOT abusive to me or my sister. I didn’t understand  him at all and I was going into this new blended family  as a VERY traumatized 12 y.o.  so, my perspective  was skewed on top of the fact that I was an empath and EXTREMELY sensative.
  • Okay, all that being said……I know now, as an adult, all the little gems I WISH I’d known as a child because  my journey  would have been hella easier.  But, whatever. There was a lot as a result  of how things went that gave me wisdom and insight most my age didnt  have. Everything  has a trade-off.
  • My WHOLE life I’ve sought understanding,  in everything  because  even  if an event/act of a human wasn’t right, if I could come up with some shred of WHY, I could deal with it better. But the most heinous acts played  out on me in my  lifetime I have no answers/explanations. And  honestly it was not  the huge ones I struggled  with, it was the small wounds inflicted on me by those I lived with everyday. Those are the soul wounds I speak of. You can be raped for eight years of your life(or more)  and make it out and survive. But the indirect actions and words of the people  who  never lay a hand on you is what can really fuck you up. Those, are the soul wounds that last for decades and they are what drove a chasm between  my family members and I.

But if your lucky, time passes and understanding  comes in ways you couldn’t  see.

I wrote that raw gut post about my family and how after some choices made by others, I  walked away, and that one act/choice on my part changed everything cosmicly/universally/energetically.

After  my de-investment and a period of time,  I got sincere apologies for extremely hurtful choices from the offending parties and suddenly  people were tripping over themselves to be in my life. I was cautious and guarded. That will never go away, and I can live with that now.

Then my mother went through  some very scary and life altering  issues and I needed to get my garbage straight real quick. All the crap dissappeared and clarity showed up post haste.

And here’s my bottom line. (I’m ALL about the bottom line) I will never have my WHY’s, but after all this time, it’s okay.  I don’t  need them. I stopped  needing them when I realized that for every day of hell and emotional purgatory I trudged through as a child, was lessened because my precious,  sacred Turtle was being loved, cherished, wanted, raised right,  so that she can go into the world  and fill it with rainbows and light and sanctity. Everyday I accomplish that, is perfection. My child’s life offsets my childhood nightmare, bruises and soul wounds.

It seems like I’ve got it all wrapped  up in a neat quick bow, but remember  I move fast, so my personal  evolution does happen  quickly. How else do you think I’ve been able to accomplish  so much in my short life thus far? BTW…I’ve miles to go before I sleep, just FYI (I’m  grateful too, believe me)

But here’s my take on all of it. I let go and I stopped  being so invested in all of it. Things were going to be what they were  going to be, and nothing I said, thought, felt, wrote, etc was ever going to change any of it.

It changed on its own because  I let it breathe.

As I wrote  in this post, I’m here with my parents and my sister (my true favorite one and my childhood hero). I’ve been observing everything and everyone. And it’s all good.

This is so long. I could go on more, but I’d better go back to sleep. I didn’t even talk about what I set out too;but I’ll  do it in my next post.

For now, peace and turtles,



Lakota Winyan.
Cunksi’s Ina.