The Not Chosen Wound [entry-title permalink="0"]

One of my wounds is “not chosen”.

I never really felt chosen as a child, I felt barely tolerated at times, sometimes outright rejected.

Layers of this make their way to me now and again.

Strong layers came up in my young adult relationships with men and as an adult. In recent years, it has come up in my business and in group situations. The truth is it can arise at any moment in which I am invested in feeling seen or known.


To feel chosen, to feel loved, to feel important and valuable is a huge part of my healing work.

 

When you are not chosen, you feel less than, you feel unimportant, you feel as if you do not matter, like you are invisible.  And no matter how much you intellectually know that you matter, there is a little girl or little boy inside of you who truly believes he/she doesn’t.


This belief runs down deep into your core and you subconsciously look for evidence to prove that you are right and boy will life give you lots of examples of being right. We latch on to these and often miss the moments of being chosen, of feeling important and loved. We get so used to being in our “I don’t matter” groove.

It gets really hard for love to penetrate that wall.

 

In the last few weeks, and I’m not quite sure what triggered it, I found myself filled with grief over repeatedly never feeling chosen, by both of my parents and relatives, by the men in my life, but most of all by me. 

 

I grieved for all of those times I felt rejected, times like running away from my mother and continually being sent back by my father, times like feeling shamed because I ate the last of something at my aunt’s house and overhearing my uncle say I did not buy that for her, the many times I felt like an outsider with my cousins, like they were the “real grandchildren”, and the lack of love and disdain I felt so strongly from step-grandmother, times like convincing my boyfriend of five years, that it was time we should marry despite his obvious trepidation and his outright telling me, “you don’t want to marry me”. He was right.

 

The list is long of the many times I didn’t feel like someone actually looked at me and chose me, and made me feel like I mattered in this world but I also grieved for the times I didn’t choose me, for the times I didn’t even know there was a “me” to choose.  So far reaching was this wound of “non-self” that I didn’t even know I existed and deserved more than what I was given.

 

For the last few weeks I have been letting go, because I feel so strongly in tune with who I am now over the last few years and because I truly love myself in more ways than I ever did.  Now as I step into feeling how much I matter, how much my work in the world matters, I find it essential to let go of these old but powerful remnants of wounding. It is exactly why they are here and “up” for me.

 

I pulled out all of the photos of people I felt not chosen by, through my haze of tears.

IMG_5800

 

I placed the photos out on my altar, I lit a candle, I said a few words about releasing and left the photos out for a few days. During this time, I felt chosen again and again, it was as if the act of letting releasing was making more space to feel like I mattered.

After a little while, I didn’t want to look at them every time I came in the room and so I put them in a stack and placed them under my Selenite stone, a stone for releasing negative energy among other things.

IMG_6536

 

This weekend during a process in my core group, each person that went up had to choose the next person that went up. I was not chosen and so I went last. I felt something, for sure, but it was not as charged as it would have been in the past. it was an opportunity for me to check in on the wound and experience how far I had come with it. It was perfect really.  There were thoughts about it, there were little niggling feelings of rejection, but was not the all encompassing wound of the past.

And while I am by no means “healed”, I do feel like I am in the midst of moving through this. I am clear about how I want to be treated in life, in my work, in my relationships. I am clear that I don’t always have to be first but that I absolutely have to matter and feel like I am important to the people around me.

I am clear, that I have to put myself first and that choosing me is a choice I’ll need to practice making because it doesn’t come naturally.

I am willing to choose me, to choose my health, my body, my joy, my own love, my yes, my feelings, my hope, my life.