"It's never too late to have a happy childhood."
Yesterday, when my friend reminded me of this quote I almost got distracted trying to find out who said it first. I'm a stickler for details like that and well, yes, that comes from my childhood. There were lots of times when I felt my integrity was being questioned and that I was made to feel 'wrong'. Once, at the tender age of 12, I was accused of plagiarism (a word I'd never heard before and had no idea what it meant).
Haven't we all got one or two stories like that? Or perhaps a few that cut deeper and are much more dramatic? Aren't there a lot of us operating on the systems we put in place when a teacher, a parent or an authority figure labelled us? And what about the times when we went unnoticed, unappreciated or unloved?
None of this would matter if we didn't find it hard to confront someone who is disrespectful; or hold back from applying for a promotion; price our services too low or go along with a plan that contradicts our values. Usually we have been operating this way for so long we think we don't remember where and when it started. Yesterday, I zeroed in on the moment of change with barely a blink of an eye. It was a painful memory of when I reached out for comfort and was handed a bowl of ice cream. That set in motion a chain of events that follows me to this day AND created my story that no one is ever really there for me. The truth is that because of this belief, I have not been listening to myself and not honouring the commitments I make to myself. No wonder I feel confused!
In the Women's Wisdom Retreats we inevitably turn over a stone that leads us to some root damage from our childhood. We stay long enough to learn and then get busy acknowledging what did work, what has contributed to our personal growth and what has helped build the amazing lives we are living. We reconnect with the joy from our childhoods and discover all the things we consistently overlooked. It didn't happen overnight for me but eventually I've learned that I did indeed have a very happy childhood.
Yesterday, when my friend reminded me of this quote I almost got distracted trying to find out who said it first. I'm a stickler for details like that and well, yes, that comes from my childhood. There were lots of times when I felt my integrity was being questioned and that I was made to feel 'wrong'. Once, at the tender age of 12, I was accused of plagiarism (a word I'd never heard before and had no idea what it meant).
Haven't we all got one or two stories like that? Or perhaps a few that cut deeper and are much more dramatic? Aren't there a lot of us operating on the systems we put in place when a teacher, a parent or an authority figure labelled us? And what about the times when we went unnoticed, unappreciated or unloved?
None of this would matter if we didn't find it hard to confront someone who is disrespectful; or hold back from applying for a promotion; price our services too low or go along with a plan that contradicts our values. Usually we have been operating this way for so long we think we don't remember where and when it started. Yesterday, I zeroed in on the moment of change with barely a blink of an eye. It was a painful memory of when I reached out for comfort and was handed a bowl of ice cream. That set in motion a chain of events that follows me to this day AND created my story that no one is ever really there for me. The truth is that because of this belief, I have not been listening to myself and not honouring the commitments I make to myself. No wonder I feel confused!
In the Women's Wisdom Retreats we inevitably turn over a stone that leads us to some root damage from our childhood. We stay long enough to learn and then get busy acknowledging what did work, what has contributed to our personal growth and what has helped build the amazing lives we are living. We reconnect with the joy from our childhoods and discover all the things we consistently overlooked. It didn't happen overnight for me but eventually I've learned that I did indeed have a very happy childhood.
