bashar

In Bloom

Karma isn’t retribution.

Karma is a mirror.

Healing is never about the person you believe hurt you-this part is where most people get stuck. Healing is about taking the time to face yourself-your blind spots. I have been trapped in the loop of blaming the other person, but it leads to nothing but repeating the same cycle in the same karmic loop over and over.

Relationships are the ultimate mirror-and I didn’t like what was being reflected back to me. I had low self-worth, I didn’t take risks, I felt stagnant, heavy, bloated, sick, I was seeking guidance in someone other than myself…

Listen, this is the soul-contract I signed up for. My mother was emotionally unavailable, critical, masculine, and my father was angry, petty, manipulative and jumped ship any time things got too hard.

Not the best foundation to work with as a child.

I repeated these relationships with men over and over again.

And yes, they were a reflection of me.

There was ONE moment in each relationship that mirrored a pattern to me that I was not willing to deal with anymore.

Thank you, God, for the revelations.

It caused me to jump off the speeding train I was on- the one desperate for validation, the one who needed the instagram photos next to a man to prove I was desirable, the one who was performing sexuality, motherhood, womanhood…

It’s me who needed to change.

And I spent a lot of time doing that.

I don’t recognize the woman I once was anymore. I still do not completely understand what happened.

I walk into rooms and people stop their conversations, and just *stare*

My inbox is FILLED with men (I would never date lol)

I get things handed to me, and I am open to it. I do not feel guilt, I do not feel like I need to reciprocate, I just feel open to receiving.

My body lost all the heaviness. My whole face changed- lighter, feminine, glowing. My heart released everything I was holding onto for since childhood, and I forgave myself for the choices I made when I didnt know better.

I allow myself to *feel* without rationalizing. I allow myself to do what makes me happy in the moment, not wait for someone else to bring me joy, and I trust my intuition deeply-she never, ever fails me.

Is it an energy? Is is an aura? Is it the God inside of me?

Is it the fact that I sat and faced myself every single day without distractions, without dating, without men, without makeup, without weed, alcohol, sex…things people use to soothe themselves?

Is it because I want my daughter-the love of my life- to watch her mother live in the truest, most aligned, most beautiful, most creative version of herself? That I never want her to live *small.* That I want her to tap into every beautiful part of her being knowing she has my love and support.

Maybe.

My energy is finally CLEAN.

I still believe in relationships. I know my person is searching for me too- doing the deep healing it takes to create a healthy foundation. He’s probably reading this right now, because God will lead him to my heart. Not lust, status, or validation- nothing shallow.

That is over.

Because that isnt me anymore.

Cheers to the healers, the healing, and my soulmate- Who will know, deeply, he is the luckiest man alive.

Because when he meets me, he will see his own reflection too-love that is whole healed, and awake.

Queen of Hearts

Once, when I was sixteen, my father woke up early and toasted Engligh muffins for me.

But he burned them.

He always burned everything; Leaving the ashes of his mistakes trailing behind him for someone to clean, and my fingers were singed from all the times I had to sweep his fires under the rug.

He had even spread cream cheese on top, though most of it was so hardened that it cut the side of my mouth when I bit into it. Crisped crumbs sprinkled down onto my shirt and I plastered a smile on my face as I winced because I was so used to pretending things were good even when they were hurting me.

My father had a shit-eating grin on face that was so foreign that I started to choke up (not sure if it was the burnt toast lodged in my throat or that empathetic, emphasis on the pathetic, nature I cursed God for bestowing upon me)

He was so fucking happy for one fucking minute.

And despite feeling lonley in his presence, despite feeling invisible, confused, fearful, angry-

I had never loved him more.

No one ever did special things for me; especially not men.

How kind of my father- though he left and he left- what other man would do something so nice for a girl like me (one who was never chosen)

So I’d spend many years accepting English-muffin-crumbs of love, from others just like him.

That meal taught me to feast on ashes and call it love.

One time. Two times. Even a a third time.

Until I was left starving.

Until I refused to accept it.

I refused to fill the stomach of another with a five course meal of beauty, brilliance, thoughtfulness, depth and authenticity with only scraps in return.

I cannot offer high-end meals to those who are used to drive-thru, and I cannot lower my value to accommodate those who will never rise to meet me on the rooftops because they are comfortable sitting in the parking lots.

I took my thoughtfulness, my loyalty, my depth, my support, my magnetic star, my beauty, devotion and love-and put it all back in my own cupboards.

I took my creativity, my voice, my authenticity and sweet vulnerability, packed it in Tupperware and stacked it on my own countertops.

I took my body-this delicious, beautiful fruit-and decided to save it for someone who earned a VIP invitation to my table.

I learned.

I finally learned.

How to feed myself

Check, Mate

We find our soulmates in the places we go to find our souls.

Society is filled with people who are sleep-walking through life; constantly looking for the next hit of validation, not the next hit of reality.

I see so far through this act that I *almost* feel empathy for the people who are blind to their own addictions (keyword is almost– their journeys are not mine)

The thing is, thats not me anymore.

I have been in very few relationships, and if we are talking body count…let’s just say, mine is lower than everyone I know. I am very discerning when it comes to sharing my mind, body, and soul with people because I know how valuable each one of those entities are. I dont believe in bringing residual toxic energy into any new partnership because relationships are our mirrors.

That is truly all they are. Everything else is made up.

The people we choose to spend time with are matching the vibrational frequency we are projecting. If we don’t learn the lessons from the last mirror, then we will repeat the same dynamic over and over again until we do.

And this shit takes time to change.

Sitting in the discomfort of growth would mean you would have to face yourself and accept the flawed, vulnerable individual that you are.

I find it attractive and courageous when a person can face the reality of what is in front of them and not run an hide behind a facade. Thus, this is something I had to do for myself.

I spent the last year going to the gym regularly, lifting weights, quitting all substances, reconnecting with family, exiting any relationships that were not serving my highest good, regular therapy sessions, taking road trips with my daughter, going on solo adventures and drowning into my hobbies. I knew that in order to elevate my frequency, I would have to be alone and I would have to stop seeking outside validation and start building it from within.

And, honestly, Ive become magnetic.

To be the trifecta; beautiful, intelligent, discerning (let’s not forget witty, deeply caring and thoughtful) you end up filling others with dopamine that they really cant replicate in anyone else. Because I evolve, because I continue to learn, and reflect- I am the drug that that keeps on giving. And for anyone to have tasted it and lost it-well…I know my high can never be replicated. Good luck with settling…

This next chapter isnt about dopamine-hits, validation-seeking, or performances. It isnt about allowing parasitic energy into my world to feel less alone, or posting curated photos on social media to show off how “great” I am doing (people swear I dont see through this lol) Or showing off seedy, tasetless, tacky visuals to prove I am desirable…

It is about being a class act.

It is about being authentic.

It is about being real.

Cheers to the next chapter. And to graduate from the lessons.

So I can finally find the exceptions.

And here’s to choosing mirrors that reflect growth, not distortion.