Oftentimes, I feel like a weak little girl.
And then I resist, and defend against the archetype of the small abused girl who just needed a mom.
And in my thrashing against her, she takes hold.
Chokes out my power.
And makes sure that I see. That I remember… she is me.

But she is only part of me.
It is in my resistance to her presence that I find myself at her beck and call on either side of the spectrum (resistant, defensive and rigid OR small and frail and unable to direct the flow of my own life).

The shadows take hold when we refuse to acknowledge their presence.

She is only part of me - she is neither bad nor good. Simply a neutral part of my emotional, physical and spiritual body which demands to be explored and most importantly… integrated. We all carry with us these fragile frail parts. And the first instinct is always to resist.

The stable, powerful adult woman seemingly has no need/time/energy to open the door to the fragile, unprocessed pieces of distant...