I was born but never received. True story : after a 24 hour labour, I was born but mum was in so much pain and so knocked out that she pushed me away when I, the object of her pain, was handed her. Dad swooped in and said, give me her! I’ve waited for her all my life. And he held me close to his chest, bloody and all. But it wasn’t no mother’s embrace. I actually remember it. I know I remember it because it came as a super brief flash of feeling and I was outside looking in. That was the last I felt that memory. Probably because it was so deeply primordial.
Anyway, this came about now because I was in deep sadness and there were feelings that gradually coming out for some days now, and it felt like baby feelings because they were vague and nonverbal. It took a lot to sit with them and not override them. I didn’t know what they were, but I felt it was pivotal. I even chose to forego my therapy session because that dimension in me needed me, needed my presence. It was scary because it’d be so easy to disregard it and keep moving. But I didn’t. I kept patient though I had no idea what it is I was waiting for or when it was going to come. I just put my trust in Allaah.
I had a dream today of unrequited love and it felt so vivid and sharp that it only added to my sadness. So I’m sat here, marinating in everything when out of the blue the words came, I feel unwanted in this world. I feel rejected. I feel like I’m the one who always desires and wants, but is never desired or wanted.
Obviously these were the feelings that were coming up these past couple of days. Then I got an intuitive download that reminded me of the first encounter I had when I came into the world. Mum pushing me away. And I just became deflated and taken aback by the intricacies of these feelings and how deep they run. I percolated in the theme and I recall how mum always said I was a fussy and difficult infant who would always throw up and cry and she’d always change me and clean manically because she didn’t want me to get sick. And it wasn’t until I was a year that my demeanor changed and I became silent and obedient.
Now that I think about it, I never heard her talk about loving me. Even as a child as I heard these anecdotes I’d cringe at myself and berate myself for being so difficult. For being a living, sensitive, responsive child. I was always praised when I was obedient and convenient and that’s what I buried my identity under.
I just make ducaa because I don’t know what else to do. I’m just grateful I could receive myself even if it’s 28 years later.