Dear Unsealers,

I am on the verge of the first anniversary of going no-contact with the majority of my fundamentalist, conservative, evangelical, queer- and transphobic biological family. It hasn’t been smooth sailing. It is lonely when something happens and all you want to do is put your head in your mother’s lap as she plays with your hair and comforts you. That desire reminds me that I am longing for something that was never really mine to begin with.

At every turn, my natural personality was diluted, watered down for the sake of fitting a perception of a perfectly pious family. There is no room for anything else, after all, when you are a missionary family raising money to get on the field. My soul was stabbed, slashed, and ripped apart by impossible standards and expectations of toxic perfectionism. I still struggle to unlearn the religious philosophies and theologies indoctrinated into my mind from a young age, things that have harmed me and whose impact still reverberates in me to this day.

As a person whose love language is physical touch, I was all too often denied the comfort and connection that I needed. Cuddling with my mom never lasted long, devolving into an argument about how I wanted my boundaries and autonomy to be respected (to which she took personal offense). I wanted to snuggle and watch a movie or show, her hand would creep up the back of my shirt in search of pimples to pop, completely sucking the comfort and intimacy that I desired from the situation. It was frustrating, but emblematic of a larger problem in my relationship with my mom that would ultimately destroy that relationship.

I am a passionate person who loves to talk about the media I am consuming and the going-ons of life with those who are important to me. Having the quality time to discuss the various experiences of life is another huge love language for me. One that was also constantly violated, resulting in my eventual withdrawal back into my shell. Music, in particular, is something that has always been highly important to me. I love to discover new (at least to me) artists and share them with others. One year I discovered what Eurovision was and loved a song that a Ukranian band played. Excited, I went over to the kitchen where my mom was washing dishes. I told her I would like to share a song with her, explaining the concept of Eurovision and how much I have enjoyed the song and my exploration of the band, she consented to listening to it with some hesitance. Not even ten seconds into the song my mother begins to lecture me about listening to music in languages I don’t understand as the devil can use anything to gain a foothold into my life. I was aghast. For context, I am a mixed kid. Half Puerto Rican, half white (Scottish and German). I am a no sabo kid. I listen to Latinx music all the time without knowing exactly what is being said. My mom didn’t have a problem with that, but she had a problem with me listening to a Ukranian song from a European music festival?

Over and over again, one of the most important people in my life, my mother, tore me down, violated by boundaries, and rejected who I was as a person in an attempt to turn me into who she wanted. It was very painful to realize the level of manipulation and pain she had caused me throughout my childhood. So slowly but surely I began to distance myself.

My mom could not for the life of her understand why I wasn’t talking to her every day, ignoring texts and phone calls, and withholding information about my life as a young adult. She mourned a perception of closeness that she had of our relationship. I was grateful to finally be free to rebuild and enforce formerly bulldozed boundaries. I was excited to reclaim my lost autonomy. I began the journey of discovering who I am and unpacking who I had become in order to protect myself.

There is still so much growth, unlearning, and unpacking left to do. I am not sure that I will ever finish healing myself from a painful past of emotional and spiritual abuse. But I am so excited to have freed myself and given myself the chance to bloom, as Mulan’s father says in the Disney adaptation (paraphrasing here), like a late flower. My parents buried me under their expectations and religious beliefs, but they didn’t know that I was a willful seed that would eventually break out from the foundation and defiantly thrive.

The recent solar eclipse was a wonderful opportunity for reflection and manifestation. With the help of some journal prompts from the internet and a tarot reading from a spiritual friend, I have narrowed my focus to some key areas of growth, creativity, and self-care. I am allowing myself the space to trust my intuition, take creative risks, and explore a nature and ancestor-based spiritual practise that is solely defined by me.

In order to look at what you love about this chapter of life, you have to examine what you hated about the past chapters. Reflect on where you have been, where you are, and where you are going. I was in the pits of despair, I am in a period of growth, and I am heading to success and healing.

So what do I love about this chapter of my life? The friends I have made, the internal (though hard) work I am doing, and how I am showing up for myself. Challenging and breaking free from everything you have ever known is a scary step, continuing to stay true to the pursuit of actualizing your true self and discovering your true potential is a commitment.