Just before she died, my mom and I had a conversation about my childhood and how I did not want anyone to get too close to me, especially to hug me or hold me.
I was apparently a squirmy little worm, especially when my Aunty Rossa (always doused in too much perfume and hairspray) would come to the house, flirt with my dad, and make a beeline to grab and squeeze my full round chubby cheeks. I wasn’t sure which part bothered me the most—the grabbing, the perfume, or the cheeks themselves. Although apparently my cheeks are the reason I look a bit more youthful today; they did bug me most of my life.
My mom suffered from postpartum depression after I was born and did not want to pick me up, especially when I cried. So, maybe that’s the reason I became hug, squeeze, and closeness averse. Although, it’s not necessary for me to know the why of it all. And, empathy overload and confusion about where I ended and others began aside, it just takes a lot of trust and space for me to be intimate and close to people.
Last week, I spent a few days with the latest cohort of my annual DreamQuest Mastermind in Santa Fe, New Mexico. I’m still feeling the gamut of emotions about it. It was my ninth one. I had chosen to have a much smaller group last year and so it was particularly meaningful to me to see the changes in everyone so up close and personal.
During the unfolding of the weekend, there were a lot of tears, epiphanies, deep sharing and many boxes of tissues passed around the room. Even I found myself swimming in my emotions, with so much gratitude for being part of this magnificent group of soulful journeyers.
Typically, my job is to curate the program according to the people who show up and commit to the transformative experience, able to be present and available but with good boundaries. But this time, I was acutely aware of how much I cared for these people and how much I had changed too as a result of us coming together.
I have always had a hard time with goodbyes, having developed a way of holding off until everyone’s gone to feel my feelings.
We do what we do to protect ourselves, but eventually, even those old ways that worked in the beginning, like old railway tracks laid a century ago, need to be replaced and often rerouted since the old station stops have become ghost towns. Or they’ve disappeared altogether with only a plaque on a bench to remind us where once were our memories and structures that housed lives that are no longer now.
I let myself really have a good cry, this time in front of everyone.
I will genuinely miss these amazing people. My heart is full and my tears a mix of awe, gratitude, love, and yes, sadness for the end of something so wonderful that I had the immense privilege to experience and witness.
I am so grateful that I get to do this, and to be able to cry when I say goodbye to people who touched my life so deeply.
It was a really good hurt.
Big love to you and maybe tissues too,
PS Interested in information about how to apply for the next cohort for the DreamQuest Mastermind beginning in October 2024? Contact jill@colettebaronreid.com.
Oh Colette!
When it is not because of your oracles, it is because of your stories that of course arrive in the right circumstances, thank you very much!
The beautiful thing about your story is that you have found “your” way to receive those hugs and we are very grateful to receive yours!
Blessings!
Maru
Thank you Colette, once again I have so identified with you and appreciate what you have shared. I am British, we don’t show emotion. Hah! But I have learned over the years and through much heartache. I love being part of the Oracle Circle and all that you give of yourself.
HEARTFELT THANKS FOR SHARING YOUR EXPERIENCE… very meaningful for me… these past few years and with my mom passing in 2020 have been so very hard but enlightening… it wasn’t until last year that I could actually cry… weird for me… grief and fear flight or fight dominate for years as a caregiver… would love to have been a part of your Santa Fe experience… a place that is always in my heart… lived there for a few years but visit when I can… living in Southern California now. Collette I wanted to thank you for your oracle card messages they have truly saved me in so many times of darkness indecision and fear. Thank you!
Dear Colette, I so appreciate this topic.
I have been the ” strong, silent ” type for most of my life. I believe it began in infancy. Just after my mother
gave birth to me, she had to be hospitalized as she
was a caregiver to my grandmother, who had a stroke. She left me in the care of my aunt (fathers’
sister). I believe I never trusted her from that early
wound. I was told that I would tear all my clothes
off while in the crib, and shake the crib walls crying uncontrollably. I was collicky, allergic to my mothers’
milk, and clearly enraged about something!
Trust was not a part of my early life, having been
molested within my family, and living in an alcoholic
family, was not a recipe for connecting. One of the
slogans for Adult Children of Alcoholics, ” Don’t talk,
Don’t trust, Don’t feel. ” I clearly identified with that.
Already in my mid 20’s when I began to learn how
to share, to give and receive hugs within a twelve
step Al-Anon group. It was such an important experience to open myself to these people who
understood as no one else could. I learned how
to trust, to understand, to be compassionate.
It was such a liminal experience to walk through
the door to this group that felt like home.
Gratefully I have learned to open more, but
still a pretty private person, having lived alone
from age 18. I am very independent, and rely
on my own resources, but am learning to ask
if I need some help. Recently after undergoing
a biopsy, I have become much more capable
of being really clear to express my thoughts, and
to advocate for my care. I am a lot more emotional
with the awareness that I am not immortal.
I feel more, share more, express more. I think
the Covid experience was key to bringing this
home in an ” uncharted” way. Maybe we needed
that wake-up call. To notice, to be awake to
all that we are a part of, and how wonderfully
the pieces of our lives fit into this magnificent
tapestry.