She was born with a sparkle in her eye, a fire in her belly, she was bold and sparkly at the same time. She stood out – her very existence pushed the boundaries of normal, acceptable, comfortable – living in the confines of “should” wasn’t in her nature.
She was wild. She scared some with her passion, energy, charisma and attracted others with it. Some wanted to take that sparkle from her her; to protect her from a world that expected conformity and others because they felt alive in it and wanted it for themselves.
She was naive and carefree. Her very existence a reminder to some of their own lost wildness and they retaliated by taking hers. Words that sliced her heart and fists that hit her very soul, the breaking of her spirit began.
Cold, unwanted hands, groping as she struggled for air, the light dimming in her eyes. She didn’t sparkle anymore. The fire had gone out. “You’ll learn or you’ll bleed” and she bled and learned, uncertain why she was hated so much.
What had she done to deserve this? She should have listened. She shouldn’t have gone there. She should have known better. She should have done as she was told, then she wouldn’t have to learn the hard way. Why couldn’t she be more like the others? The ones who cried for her to just give in and do as she was told? It will be easier. Don’t stand up for yourself. Just do what you’re told.
Why did she have to be strong willed, so stubborn? She felt stupid as though she was asking for it from her defiant behaviour. The fire inside faded. The sparkle was gone. The lights went out. She lost her fight. Being good was better. Colouring inside the lines hurt less, dressing, looking, acting the part was safer and less hurtful. Do as you’re told, don’t upset people, be pleasing – that makes them happy.
The need for adventure and excitement fades. The need to bend the rules turns into the need to enforce the rules. The dreams, the desires, the magic, the bliss turn into nothingness.
She scorns the wild willed, knowing they’ll learn or they’ll bleed. She scoffs at those who dare live outside the lines – they’ll get what’s coming. How dare they? Don’t they know what happens to bad girls? They always get what’s coming.
The darkness is all consuming – days and nights blur together in a sea of indigo ink. Every now and then she dreams and starts awake, she can still feel the cool moss on her feet, the moon in her eyes, the fire in her belly and longing in her heart. Her throat closes as she pushes it down, swallows a valium and reminds herself how stupid she is to dream.
But the dreams keep coming and the numbing with food, alcohol, pills, shopping don’t work as well as they used to. She could forget it all at times but now the food didn’t taste as good as the dream of the cool moss on her feet and twigs in her hair.
The awakening has begun. She fights it. It’s been 20, 30, sometimes even 50 years years since her spirit was broken, since she put her sparkle in a closet and pulled the curtains across, so no one would see it. Then she built walls around it to protect it even more. But one day a little light got in somehow. A crack came in the wall and in the dark recesses a stirring had begun.
She couldn’t stop it this time. This time she wasn’t the child who was scared. This time she couldn’t stop the call of the wild. She tried at first, holding the tears and the pain back – desperately trying to find the crack so she could fix it.
The light hurt so much more than the darkness. The light held the hurt, the pain, the trauma, the fear and also the happiness and the joy. She finally saw that she couldn’t have one without the other. The darkness had been home for so long, the nothingness was comfortable. The light was crippling. As the light seeped in and cast out the darkness, she feared the pain would engulf her. But she lost the fight. The fire was also building in her belly and the tears bought the sparkle back to her eyes.
She couldn’t hold back the untamed any longer. She rose, like a phoenix from the ashes, shining brighter than she ever had before, with more strength than ever knew she possessed. As she rose from her knees and walked into the light, her sword at the ready, she knew, this time, in her heart, she would never be tamed again.
She stood tall, proud, full of love and light, she was here to break the mould. She was born wild and free and she would die wild – as she followed the path of courage to blaze the trail for the next wild souled women.
PS… this blog was inspired and is a mash up of the stories I’ve learned from coaching people and the wild souled women retreats. I have a gift of helping people heal that which is blocking them from living their full and authentic life. This blog isn’t one person’s story, it’s a compilation of the stories I’ve been privileged to hear. If you identify with this and want to hang out with your tribe, we have a Facebook group 🙂