My son and I sat in the doctors office for a well child visit, waiting for the nurse to come back with a vaccine. She walked in and explained what she was going to do. She slowly approached him to clean the location where she intended to give him a vaccination. 

He shook his head and his hand at her. 

“No” he said while he continued to shake his hand.

Years later, I look back at that night and that conversation and my heart hurts. My heart hurts for the version of me who needed to question myself. It wasn’t ever that I couldn’t trust him, it was that I shouldn’t trust him. I am capable of trusting anyone who I should trust, and I went on to prove that to myself.

“What if I make the wrong choice?” he asked.

“My truth is that we can’t make the wrong choice.” I said. 

He paused and left a long silence.

I knew in the moment of the experience that I was letting something go and that something better would come in its place. I knew deep in my heart that the universe was protecting me and bringing me into vibration with something that was aligned with my uniqueness and authenticity.

I lay on my left side with my hands clasped together under my head. My body was at complete peace and my mind was turned off. I was deep in meditation talking to source or the universe or god or love, whatever you call that energy.

“What was it like being raised by your parents” she asked.

“Oh, like bumper bowling” I responded. Years ago, I decided to describe things in form of energy and stop trying to use the English language in the traditional sense but, try to use it in the way that describes energy. I often will describe something as very green or thuddy or thick or dense or wispy or round or flowy.

“You see. I have always had to be my own water bottle. Divine masculine energy is structure and stability. Divine feminine is flow, like water. You create the structure for me to flow around in, finding all of the parts of me that want to move and gently flow.”

I woke with a jump. I smiled, rolled over and drifted back into sleep knowing that I had finally finished processing the situation and that on some level our interaction in dream state would reach them.

 His eyes welled with tears, over and over until a stream of wet tears rolled from his eyes only to continue. They were tears of pride. They were tears of joy. They were tears of happiness. They were tears from the heart.

I need support differently, I thought as I sobbed. I am not your average woman and yet, I am. I am very average. I am just like so many other women.