Me, Myself, & Her
Dear Lover,
Once upon a time ago, there lived a woman whose presence demanded attention, her complexion as pristine and fair as freshly fallen snow. She was married to a man and together they built their lives in the beautiful South. On the surface, their union seemed strong, but deep within, the woman experienced an enduring sensation of isolation that clung to her like a weighty veil.
I don't know for sure if they had children, but what's really evident is that her life lacked joy. You could almost feel her heartache, a constant reminder of the love she longed for but could never quite hold onto – it always seemed just out of her reach. It's tough to pinpoint the exact duration of their marriage, but I think a lot of women, including myself, can understand that overwhelming sense of loneliness even when you're in a relationship with someone. As time went by, it became clear that her partner wasn't just causing her emotional and psychological pain, but was also physically harming her. The bruises were impossible to ignore. Yet, it was evident that even though many were cognizant of this distressing reality, it was still disregarded, leaving her feeling abandoned.
She turned to her family and friends, crying out for help, yet her tears fell on deaf ears. As her frustration grew more intense, she found herself exploring the very purpose of her existence. Amidst the whirlwind of thoughts, she contemplated the significance of a life where her partner's actions revealed a lack of affection, and her pleas for support were met with indifference from those she held dear. Above all, a troubling realization took hold — a sensation that she might lack even self-love. After all, she questioned, if self-love truly existed within her, why would she find herself trapped in such a heart-wrenching situation? The weight of her emotions grew overwhelming, leading her to succumb to the embrace of depression.
Following yet another tumultuous and fiery argument with her husband, she found herself behind the wheel of her car, accelerating swiftly. It didn’t register to her that she was speeding and if it did, she didn’t care. Her emotions were a whirlwind — a mix of hysteria, exhaustion, and fury. In her heart, a resolute decision formed: this was the day she would finally leave him. Yet, in the midst of her determination, an overwhelming sense of isolation gripped her. Loneliness had been an unwavering companion, a shadow she couldn't shake, and her cheeks bore the traces of tearful acknowledgment of this enduring ache.
Amidst these tumultuous thoughts, a familiar yet darker notion began to take hold — the consideration of putting an end to her suffering once and for all. As she approached a bridge, her speed increased. Tonight held the potential for a drastic decision, it seemed. However, an unexpected transformation began to unfurl within her. It was as if a glimmer of hope, whether from an external influence or an inner wellspring of resilience, whispered to her. What if this moment didn't just mark the end of her marriage, but the birth of self-love? What if the love she had always yearned for already resided within her? With this shift in perspective, she attempted to ease her speed, embracing optimism over despair.
Yet, fate played its hand with a cruel twist. Control slipped from her grasp, and her car plunged off the bridge, sealing her fate in tragedy. The verdict: death by suicide.
During my session with my Akashic Records reader, she shared this story with me. While I empathized deeply with the woman's plight, I found myself puzzled about the reason behind my reader telling me this. Before I proceed, let me provide you with a brief understanding of what an Akashic Records Reading entails. An Akashic Records Reading is a metaphysical practice that involves delving into one's Akashic Records, which are believed to be a cosmic repository containing the collective mosaic of human experiences, thoughts, emotions, and events spanning across time. Those who practice Akashic Records Reading claim to be able to enter a meditative or trance-like state and access these records to gain insights, guidance, and understanding about various aspects of life, including past lives, current challenges, relationships, and potential future paths. The information obtained from the Akashic Records is believed to offer deeper insights into one's soul's journey and purpose.
My reader disclosed that the story she had shared was, in fact, a portrayal of one of my past lives. In the silence that followed, heavy with significance, I was overcome by a surge of emotions. Tears welled up in me before I could even gather my thoughts to respond. The truth in her words resonated deeply with me because, much like the woman in my past life, I have also known the pain of isolation, the marks of abandonment, and pain caused by far too many people I cared for. However, it was a specific revelation that truly solidified the connection within me. When her passing on a bridge was mentioned, an involuntary gasp escaped me. Bridges, since my earliest memories, have ignited a distinct fear within me. Approaching them would envelop me in an eerie sense of discomfort, and up until that moment, the source of this unease remained a mystery.
I vividly recall a time during my college years when I had to cross a lengthy bridge surrounded by water; the fear was tangible. I was so hesitant to trust anyone else in the car to drive over that bridge, as an unshakeable feeling told me that something ominous was looming. Furthermore, I ended up resorting to speeding, a frantic attempt to put more space between myself and that particular bridge. What's intriguing, as I reflect on it now, is the fact that the bridge in question is located in the South. As I shared this with my reader, a quiet stillness enveloped her too, leaving her momentarily without words. My tears flowed even more freely. In this moment, I was a jumble of emotions, my words stumbling over one another as a flood of questions poured out. Among them, I asked about the meaning behind this revelation. Despite the dissipation of my bridge-related fear, I couldn't shake the thought: could my life meet a similar end?
In the midst of my emotions, I couldn’t help but ask, "Was I a white woman?" My question caught my reader off guard, considering that the phrase "pure as snow" is giving a whole white woman. Though the specifics of her racial background remained unclear, both my reader and I couldn't help but share a fleeting moment of laughter.
As my nerves finally calmed down, my reader shared a nugget of wisdom that has stayed with me to this very day. She conveyed that even within the unyielding grip of isolation, true solitude was never my companion. The woman from my past life had been a constant presence, standing by my side through it all. When the weight of loneliness felt almost unbearable, she provided comfort. I couldn't help but wonder if I had mistaken the weight of loneliness for her attempt to reach out, blurring the lines between my own emotions and her intentions. It struck me, right then, that she had been there for me in the very way she longed for someone to be there for her.
Moreover, my reader offered guidance on how to face these moments. She encouraged me to embrace the loneliness and counteract it with positive affirmations, highlighting that both the woman from my previous existence and I shared the resolve to overcome. Moving forward, my reader unveiled that the lingering grief from my past life was rooted in a lack of self-forgiveness, a sorrow that stemmed from the tragic way her life had come to an end.
As our session came to an end, tears welled up within me once again. I found myself revisiting countless instances when feelings of loneliness and abandonment had overwhelmed me. Memories from my past resurfaced—like the time I went to school with a busted lip and no one, not even the teachers, asked me what had happened. I recalled nonchalantly telling my friends that I fell out of bed instead of revealing that my mom had caused it. And the repeated confessions of loneliness to my friends, as well as the ongoing struggle with self-love, came rushing back. To be honest, there were moments when thoughts of ending my own life crossed my mind. For an extended period, I clung to the belief that things would never get better, and, if I'm truly honest, that feeling of hopelessness endured for what felt like an eternity.
With that being said, I put substantial effort and financial resources into my personal development, committing myself to fostering self-love. The journey was challenging yet incredible—evolving from unease in solitude to embracing my own company. Ladies and gentlemen, this is the embodiment of authentic growth.Through dedicated therapy sessions, addressing the wounds of my inner child, and restoring my bond with God, I can boldly proclaim that a bitch is healed. But this transformation wasn't a linear path; it was marked by moments of self-doubt, breakthroughs, and setbacks. There were times when I questioned if all the time, energy, and resources I was investing would truly lead to a better version of myself.
Yet, with each step forward, I began to witness subtle shifts in my mindset and behavior. I learned to challenge the negative beliefs that had held me captive for so long, replacing them with affirmations of self-worth and acceptance. It wasn't just about changing my thoughts; it was about rewiring the very core of my being. One of the pivotal moments came during a therapy session when I revisited those childhood memories that had haunted me for years. Confronting the pain and acknowledging the impact it had on my adult life was excruciatingly difficult, but it was also liberating. It allowed me to release the grip those memories had on me, paving the way for healing to take place.
And then there was my journey back to spirituality, reconnecting with a higher power that had always been there, patiently waiting for me to reach out. This rekindled bond provided me with a sense of purpose and a belief that I was never truly alone. Won’t He Do It!
So, as you read this letter, I want you to understand that healing isn't just about reaching a destination; it's about embracing the entire journey—the highs, the lows (and the lows were ghetto baybee), the breakthroughs, and the setbacks. It's about acknowledging the strength it takes to confront your demons and the courage it requires to seek help when you need it.
The feelings of loneliness and abandonment have been noticeably absent from my life for quite a while, and this brings a deep sense of joy. This contentment isn't just for myself, but also for Her. I often contemplate her journey, wondering if she ultimately found forgiveness and inner serenity. I prefer to think that she did, and this notion fills me with a warm smile. While she might not have attained it during her own lifetime, I am confident that she found it within mine.
P.S. I am no longer afraid of bridges.
Love,
Eboné
