When Old Wounds Come to Call

#oldwounds #childhoodmemories #OolaCreative #OolaLife #Blockers #Fear

I've often wondered, was I late in line when they handed out gift-giving savvy? I find it so stressful for people I know that to try and buy gifts for strangers is paralyzing.

So, when a friend invited me to our local Women Ninja Facebook Group, I ignored it for a week. However, because I was invited, the posts kept popping up on my feed.

I watched as lady after lady introduced themselves, said what they liked to snack on, drink, pursue as a hobby etc, and then showed what their surprise gift bag contained. Everyone was super grateful and having such fun.

But something inside me cringed whenever I thought of joining. The memories of bad gift-giving, and receiving, held me back.

Then yesterday morning I realized that fear was behind my reluctance. I'm on a personal journey this year to put fear in its place, so I grabbed twenty seconds of courage and joined the group.

This morning I received a notification that I was Ninjaed. I jumped out of bed and thought, "Wow ! They are Ninjas. They came in the middle of the night and the dogs didn't even bark?"

All of a sudden it felt like Christmas morning. I felt like a little kid. I was filled with excitement. But when I looked outside there wasn't anything at the door. And then I remembered the administration said once marked 'Ninjaed' it may take 24-48 hours to get the gift.

I laughed at myself, but still that sting of disappointment lingered. Suddenly a childhood memory came dancing across my mind like an old super 8 home movie.

I was 6 years old. It was Christmas Eve at my grandparents. It was my turn to open a present. I was so excited. As I unwrapped the paper I couldn't believe it. Figure skates! Just like my cousin's. I screamed and jumped up and down thanking my grandparents. They pointed and said, "Open the box."

It was a stuffed toy, not figure skates. There were no lessons for me, no skating shows, no beautiful costumes. I would have to continue wearing my brother's hand-me-down hockey skates. I looked at the stuffed animal, hugged it to my chest, and said thank-you.

There's no bitterness or unforgiveness attached to this wound. Only an imprint on my self-worth. I was embarrassed that I made a mistake in front of the whole family. I was also disappointed. And in the disappointment lives the deepest wound of all. I felt unseen, unheard, and unknown.

I've underestimated the impact that one moment of time has had across the scope of my life. This wound has been active since its first cut. I can now see its path etched across the hardest times in my marriage, as a parent, as a friend, and in all relationships.

So what's to be done when old wounds come to call?

They reveal buried, crusted over holes in your soul. They're the parts of your story you never think about, or brush off as unimportant. But they are important. All wounds need to be faced and dealt with.

So I faced that hurt little girl today. I told her it was okay. She was just a child. There was no need to be embarrassed.

I also faced the times in my life when I lashed out at others, because of that wound, and I forgave myself. I looked in the mirror and said, "I see you. I hear you. I know you." And, "You have a good and generous heart and you give good gifts."

This may seem hokey to some but it works for me. Whatever works for you; therapists, punching bags, burying your head for a good cry or going to the deep woods and yelling, just do it. Deal with the wound.

My gift bag was waiting for me after I got home from the barn today. I'm so grateful I decided to join. Because, now that I received my special package, I get to plan, shop, and secretly deliver one.