My Story

(Em)brace yourself.

I’m only half-joking when I suggest bracing. Stories like mine are not for the faint of heart. Both hearing and telling our stories in their rawness can be a bit of a doozy to the untrained ear or voice. It can be terrifying to share our deepest truths and stories. Though I believe that it is the story I am most afraid of telling that often signals it most needs to be told. And, telling our stories can be profoundly liberating: an opportunity to embrace ourselves and allow others to embrace us. A dear friend once taught me, “Fear is excitement without breath.” For me, breathing through story has not always come easy.

It is my core belief that as babies, we are born into this world in perfect Love. Our eyes are bright, full of awe and wonder. We are naturally curious and connected. We feel deeply, we express fully, we state our needs the way babies do. We generously love all life- the trees, the birds, the rain, the stars, and all people; ourselves included- long before any judgement creeps into form. We may find that we generally breathe with more ease.

As we grow, our environments may honor this sacred truth or diverge from it. Some environments may have climates that are more harsh or more nurturing than others. Some environments require us to survive being crushed, while others support our ability to thrive. We face traumas, we close our hearts, our breathing becomes shallow and a bit more restricted.

Unlikely as it may seem, none of these environments are any better or worse than another. Rather, they are all perfect in their own Divine way. “Perfect” does not mean “pleasant”- it simply means that whatever the environment, the experience, the story- it cannot exist outside the bounds of Love when we understand Love as conscious awareness and radical acceptance of all that is. By this interpretation, Love encompasses everything in existence. Love reaches far beyond our mental concepts of “right” vs “wrong”, “moral” vs “immoral”, “good” vs “bad”, “pleasant” vs “unpleasant.” Love does not operate in dichotomy.

I remember realizing as a child that I had so much unique love to give and seemingly no one to give it to. I found myself in a great conflict between wanting to fully express myself and wanting to hide. I sensed that most of the people in my home community did not have the skills or emotional development to fully embrace and guide me, and that I had to protect myself by closing my heart. I learned to bury my truth to avoid the risk (and reality) of being hurt in my deepest places of vulnerability. I acted out in harmful ways as a result of this suppression. I hurt myself and others, and I was unbelievably hurt by them.

By the time I was a teen, I felt that I had “lost” whatever light I’d come into the world with. My curiosity, my sense of awe and wonder, my passion and empowerment and fiercely loving heart, my connection to my soul and to Love- all forgotten. There were years of my life when I didn’t see a reason for being here- years riddled with this painful longing for a life that I could just barely envision and had only the most subtle and fleeting sense might be possible for me. I struggled to take care of myself and felt very little self-worth. I had become a shell of myself. My outrage at those in my life who responded to my pain with their own fear and anger became internalized as self-loathing. I found myself in an intense power struggle for my life from those who seemed to be out for flesh and blood and bone; from those who found light to be blinding rather than an invitation to bask in their own. It was not until this abuse and dysfunction came to a near-violent collision that things began to powerfully shift, though it has certainly not been smooth-sailing.

Forms of energy healing such as Reiki have supported me in returning to who I am at my core and living in alignment with my authentic Self. Remembering my sacred truth does not negate or erase the very real traumas I have experienced and grown through. It does not make light of any pain or suffering endured. Healing does not mean that my wounds were “worth it” or that I am happy to have received them, or that I “should” be grateful for the hardships that served to build my strength and resilience. I am still angry, still grieving, still afraid; the difference now is in my expression of those emotions, the new perspectives I hold of my experiences and of myself and others, and in how I’ve uncovered a deeper truth and see a bigger picture: something I’d become disconnected from for years of my life. It is the difference between empowerment and disempowerment, freedom and confinement. And it does not mean that I am healed, or that I am a healer by practicing Reiki. I just do my best to show up, to fully face and honor my wounds, to embody what it means to deeply love myself and others, to release shame, to dance and laugh and sing and cry and scream. To learn to live in integrity. That is the work and play of healing.

If you have a Yes to exploring what energy healing may bring to you, I would be delighted to walk with you for as long as our connection serves. If my story does not resonate with you at this time, please know that I appreciate your consideration and respect your No. I hold both with reverence. Another dear friend once taught me, “If I cannot hear your no, how can I believe your yes?”

Blessings to you, wherever your journey may lead you.

In Love & Gratitude,

Caitlyn Jean