addiction, ascension, change, Community, Connection, Intuitive, life, MOVEMENT, musings, philosophy, Poetry, rebirth, relationships, Revolution, spirituality, Trauma



I like many have been taught love was a transaction.
Feeding a loss of self to gain the nurturing love needed in childhood.
Not heard.
Not seen.
Not met.
Used as a weapon.
A war with and sometimes without words.

I took this love into adult relationships.
I taught my children this love.
Nobody to blame.
A pattern passed down family lines like Nanna’s trusted knitting magazine.
Seeking and fixing, losing and finding.
Raging blood boiling.
Jealousy rising.
Submissive demands.
No need met.
Control, manipulation
Where we play both roles.
Sex used as a weapon.
Demons wild in this role.

Let me affirm.
This may be what you are used to.
Gripping onto.
Running away from.
Always two dancing the tango yet tangling.

This is not love!

This is war!

A bleed through of wounding.
Where two halves actually create a hole.
Not the whole we were sold.

I craved the attention of those that couldn’t meet my needs.
I sought and sought and destroyed myself feeling I was not enough, they were not enough.
Life itself became unbearable, not enough.
At times I tried to take my life.
A pattern failed by self but seen so successfully in others.
I saw it as I was even a failure in that.
However I could always harm myself, that became second nature.

Years ago I made the decision to choose me, my crying children within and without.
I chose to live, I chose life.
However it’s not a quick fix.
An instant recovery.
One discovery and my life was different.
Oh no, no.
I’ve run when I needed to stay.
I’ve stayed when I needed to run.
I held on so tight that I not only lost myself, separated myself, I totally destroyed my true self and all of my inner joy.
What is joy, it’s been so long dear friend I’m ready to meet again.
In this now.

I rejected my own wants and needs for those who rejected me.
Those who also felt rejected or Maybe even smothered at times.
Met with apathy.
I projecting desperation.
Yes to no’s.
No to yes’s.
Boundaries with no lines.

Neither of us wrong.
Yet neither of us right.
Just two broken children recreating childhood needs.
Abandoning themselves for the love they feel is sought, earned, gained.
Never met, reached, touched.
Always touched by addictions and distractions though.
Catch 22.
Where you are the ball.
A free game with unlimited plays.

To my self, children, ex partners.
I am deeply sorry.
You would never have been able to meet my needs as I couldn’t meet my needs.
Just as I couldn’t meet yours.

Abandoned by a whole family yearning love yet not truly knowing what it was.
Carrying so much unnecessary guilt, grief, shame, pain, self loathing.
I see now.
I hear now.
Love is not a craving.
It’s my essence.
I choose to meet me.
All of me.
In time.
I will meet he who can also meet himself.
Who desires to evolve and rise.
Learning as we consciously face our inner needs seperately yet together.
Unconditionally yet not without presence.
Putting our own needs first.
Speaking our truth without fear.
Allowing our differences.
Being ok with that.

There is no rush.
There is no reward.
There is no fight.
There is no war.
There is no guilt.
I invite my inner child.
To come out and play.
Where she once knocked on locked doors, abandoned houses to gain a friend.
She now answers the knocking on her door.
Her heartbeat.
Her call.

Yes, I have needs.
I deserve to be met.
In the middle.
First I needed to honour this fully.
Ending the game of hide and seek.
The approval of my parents.
Intimacy I am.
Into me I now see.
I am sorry to you.
I am sorry to me.
Today marks the end of this game.
I’ve gone back to the beginning at the end.
I’ve set myself free.

Bec Hart.

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