The girl who has no name


Gate 1: Crown – Mine was very simple and very light. With a strip of gold around and 1 small marker on each side symbolizing the 4 elements (earth, water, air, and fire).
Gate 2: Necklace – Very ornate and VERY HEAVY. I felt it symbolized my inability to speak up for myself because I haven’t healed from childhood issues.
Gate 3: Cloak – Black cloak with one of those huge hoods. I felt that I wear it to hide.
Gate 4: Shirt – This was black lace with white coming through. Flowy arms. I felt freedom with this – like if I twirled around the arms would flow.
Gate 5: Rings – My wedding ring and a few new rings that I bought myself. This was my connection to my family.
Gate 6: Pants/Undergarments – I was wearing this flowy skirt. I felt this was my shame and guilt. It was long and dark.
Gate 7: Shoes – Flats. Not sure why I saw myself wearing flats but they weren’t very comfortable.

Today I saw a little girl who was a shadow of herself, wrinkly, alone, abandoned. She resembled a piece of charcoal with flakey sooted ashy paper-thin skin. She has been so neglected and not watered for most of her life that she is withered and dying. She wore thick heavy chains around her neck and feet, keeping her from moving forward. She couldn’t speak because her throat was so dry from not being used. We sat and cried together, mourning the loss of her gifts.

  • She hates me for pushing her down for so long.
  • She hates me for taking away her voice.
  • She hates me for allowing others to take away her voice.
  • She hates me for forcing her to hide.
  • She hates me for not letting her come out to play.
  • She hates me for abandoning her.
  • She hates me for forgetting who she is.
  • She is the girl who was overly boisterous and often got into trouble in preschool and threatened to be slapped on her hand with a ruler if she didn’t stop talking.
  • She is the girl who was a “busy-bee” and got in trouble in Kindergarten and was punished at home using an early tiered bedtime based on how her teacher reported her behavior from the previous week.
  • She is the girl who always talked nonstop in 1st grade and was often called out in front of the class and made to sit in the corner.
  • She is the girl who wrote crazy good short stories her 8th-grade classmates loved to hear and then never wrote again.
  • She is the girl who couldn’t handle traditional English classes, so she believed that she wasn’t a writer.
  • She is the girl who was afraid to share her thoughts verbally or in writing for fear of being judged for her beliefs.
  • She is the girl who was always criticized by her parents for not conforming, being different and liking things that were different.
  • She is the girl who was always judged by her mother; nothing was ever good enough.
  • She is the girl who couldn’t just say “No” because there was always a “Why not” that followed.
  • She is the girl who had to “write a dissertation” to defend her actions all the time. Inquisitions from her mother are still common.
  • She is the girl who had verbally, and sometimes physically, abusive parents when she didn’t conform to what they believed or who they thought she should become.
  • She is the girl who didn’t follow the life path she wanted because it caused too much conflict that she didn’t have the strength to deal with.
  • She is the girl who was loved conditionally by her parents.
  • She is the girl who would spend time by herself because it was easier.
  • She is the girl who cried alone.
  • She is the girl who didn’t embrace her true self.
  • She is the girl who wouldn’t stand up for herself and just walk away.
  • She is the girl who didn’t find a way to scream, “Because I want to. This is MY LIFE.”.
  • She is the girl who was silenced again and again until she was finally thrown away, abandoned.

This is the girl who no longer knows herself.

This is the girl who I abandoned.

This is the girl who is my shadow.

This is the girl who has no name.

I am this girl; she is me.

After sitting with the girl for a while, it was time to leave. This was a very hard moment for me… to leave this little girl standing there alone by herself not fully healed yet. This moment in the meditation was so powerful for me that the thought of leaving this little girl made me physically start to cry, and I just let the tears flow down my face.

Walking back, I put everything back on.

Gate 7: I threw away the shoes. They were uncomfortable and I didn’t put them back on.
Gate 6: I put the skirt back on. It was lighter this time – like a petticoat was removed from underneath. The skirt was airy and flowed. As I spun around, it danced for me. Hopefully, that means some of my shame and guilt flowed away too. I see twirling the skirt symbolizing letting my shame and guilt drift and float away.
Gate 5: I put all my rings back on. These were never an issue.
Gate 4: I put my top back on too. I see this top being pretty – different. Letting me be me.
Gate 3: I put the cloak back on too but left the hood down. I feel the cloak protects me (lets me hide when I need to) but I’m hoping to take it off it or at least keep the hood down more so I can be seen.
Gate 2: I threw away the necklace. I couldn’t put that back on. It was ugly, gaudy and very heavy. Hoping this helps break the silence and allows me to find my voice.
Gate 1: When I went to put the crown back on, I didn’t see the same crown. The structure was the same, but now I was looking at a crown of flowers all around it and the 4 small points were much longer and larger. I feel this symbolizes my connection with the elements grew and my mind and thoughts are now ready to flourish.

And even now as I write this, I still feel like who am I to complain? I have a good life. A great family. It all worked out. Right? I mean, there are so many more people in this world who are in far worse condition than I am. Shut up because your stupid pains are nothing in comparison to theirs. Who are you to talk like this?

I must learn to silence that crap and speak up for myself. Express my own thoughts and my feelings. My voice may one day help someone else.

So who am I? I am that little girl finding her voice again. I am all of me.