Today, I learned in Journal

how much I loved children and wanted to be a mom.
Not just now, but my whole life.
The feeling is so very refreshing- to experience this love of innocence and fierce dedication to my own babies. Future and present. But more interestingly I am connecting with the feelings of my past self. The self that truly adored my babies and nearly couldn’t wait to have met them. The excitement! The eagerness! All smiles all the time- dancing, singing, bursting into laughter for no apparent reason! That was me. A part of me, at least.
I accept these feelings as genuine and true.
What about those feelings that I experienced for the majority of my life when I thought of babies or children? The disgust, physical revulsion, pity, resentment? Well that was me, too. It was a part of me. I accept that part gladly as well.
What I realized today was that the disgusted part allowed me to free the loving part. If I had for example, not been so repulsed by babies I may have at some point or another simply not been careful about preventing pregnancy. If I was not foundationally disgusted with them and with pregnancy, I might not have avoided becoming a parent with such strong, unwavering conviction. But, because I was opposed to it unashamedly, that part of me prevented Parenthood until an opportunity presented itself.
That opportunity did come in the form of a man, but not how you might imagine.
Until I saw the genuine happiness, love and devotion that a good father could embody, my unconscious was convinced that it was not possible. I was so awash and saturated with my father’s propaganda, that his status quo was reality. My father was a sadist and his moral code consisted of whatever pleases him most in the moment. I truly believed this. How could I not? It was all I knew. There were exactly zero examples to the contrary. After all, men who wed and have children havetremendous power in their families, and surely absolute power over the children.
The spell of propaganda was complete, but I suppose that the part of me that loved my children wanted closure.
That part of me was alive, vigilant, and searching. It was ready. Once I found and confirmed the fact that there was indeed at least once single example to the contrary of my father’s reality, I was pregnant within 4 months. 4 months! And I was ecstatic.
Yes, I cried. I cried and wailed and grieved and gnashed my teeth. I was grieving and saying goodbye to that part of me that believed in the propaganda. I was so very startled and hurt that such evil had been done to me. But also I was so glad to be doing it. I was so glad to be grieving and becoming angry at the right people. I welcomed it! I welcomed the feelings of betrayal, hurt, jealously, anger, viciousness, terror, even. Because it was the old moving away to make room for the new.
It was such an amazing and awesome journey! And to realize right now, today, that I only ever needed a momentary glimpse into what is possible, to shed a lifetimes worth of abuse, grooming, conditioning, I can only stand in awe of what I can accomplish. I had no plans. I had no idea what I had to do. It didn’t even particularly matter. I loved my children so much that, had I truly been in a reality that resulted in my experience, I would have no part in putting my babies through it. I also loved my children so much that the moment I knew true love was possible, I was calling them to me. I didn’t know how I’d do it, but I knew it could be done. And I would do whatever it took.