When Ugly Memories Surface

How somatic therapy and purposeful healing has changed me

I missed yesterday’s scheduled blog because I was still downloading and processing from a healing session I had on Saturday. I saw Sharla Lindsay in Saskatoon for a massage/cranio/breathwork appointment and it was mind-blowing to say the least. I’ve already raved about the experience on Instagram but I wanted to go a little deeper here about something that happened. At one point, Sharla was on the left side of my body, one hand cupping under my knee, the other alternating between on top of my knee or over my womb. I’ve never had anyone hold my knee before in a way that wasn’t medicinal (I've had knee surgery on each knee). It felt non-judgemental, safe and loving. While in this position I had a memory resurface from when I was in early high school. I can't remember if it was before or after my knee surgery but I was on crutches. I had a doctor’s appointment and my mom could never take time off work to take to me appointments so I was on my own to get there. I had to walk myself to the doctors which was a good 1-2 kms away. I remember hobbling up a busy main artery of our town absolutely mortified that I was on crutches walking somewhere. I was mad at my mom for not taking me and I was embarrassed over what I likely looked like to the passerbys.

This memory brought me to an a-ha moment about my childhood. I realized in order to get attention from my mom, I’d fake an illness or think something was wrong with me because it was the only time I got one-on-one time with her. She ran a daycare and she was also busy with her own three kids. Alone time with each of us wasn’t something that she prioritized. So a cold was awful, the flu was near death and every cramp, ache or pain HAD to be something horrific. I was a verified hypochondriac forged from a need for love and attention. Knowing I was like this and not seeing the why, Mom would get really angry with me when I thought something was wrong. It was like the boy who cried wolf because if something was actually wrong with me (like my knees) or I did need a hospital (like when my appendix was near bursting) she didn’t believe me. In fact, she was super annoyed by it. But my sister was always getting hurt and I’d see the love and care she’d get, so I tried to do the same, short of purposely hurting myself.

I think Mom just didn’t believe me when my knees were mangled and that walk to the doctors made little Kelsey feel very abandoned and unsafe when I really actually needed my mom desperately that day. My cry to her for help was ignored again and I was on my own to deal with any illnesses, phantom or real.

I came out of that epiphany with sorrow for the little girl I had been but also for my mom. My mom had a really hard life with very little parenting of her own. Of course her own parenting skills would be lacking. In most cases, we parent the way we were parented or we go the complete opposite to the detriment of the child(ren).

When negative memories surface the first thing I always tell myself is, “that person no longer exists anymore.” The mom from those years isn’t the mom I have now. The young girl from then isn’t me now either. I see it like watching a movie; I see and feel for the characters but I won’t take their story home with me for long. It’s a past experience that, as long as I’ve processed it and moved it out of my body, I can see it for what it was without emotion.

Oddly enough, Sharla text me about the experience from her professional point of view yesterday and told me “the bladder meridian passes through the knee and sacrum and was more restricted at your left knee-left side of the body is connected to our feminine/maternal lines, your left was also more resistant to being held.” Talk about human connection. Sharla was tuning into my memory and subsequent inner dialogue/a-ha moment. The rest of the appointment felt like a further releasing of any residual feelings of abandonment like ash blowing off a slumbering fire. I repeatedly told myself, ‘You are safe here. You are okay here” and each time I said it, I would get goosebumps all over my body. I don’t know that I have ever felt that relaxed for that long ever in my life. After it was over, Sharla left the room and I gave myself my ‘self love hug’ where I place my hands on either side of my face, cupping my face and checking in; “I love you.” “We are safe” “Are we okay?” “How do we feel?” “There you are! We’ve got this.”

I’ve seen and known some incredible healers, each special in their own way but what makes an experience really unique is how much you let yourself open to it. It really comes down to how your react to your practitioner, how safe you feel and how willing you are to open yourself wide open to receive what may. This year has been one ripe with juicy healings and I’m so grateful I can look at past hardships and people and say, “this doesn’t matter anymore” or even better “that person no longer exists.” I wish the same for everyone taking the time to have a sip of solitude and read my words.