Posted on by palmtreemomma

Promises of Love

Soon after I re-entered the dating world, posts and reels began to come across my feed. Promising to provide the magical words to say to keep a potential partner interested. Words to say if they were pulling away and you wanted them back. Words that would tie them to you forever. So that the right person would fall in love with you forever.

These ads all started with an alluring story or a glittering promise. Enough substance to pull me in and make me read to the end of a very long post, only to discover I had to sign up for a course. Or buy a book.

It was all very glittery and compelling. Especially after a particularly disappointing interaction that ended with me being ghosted by a guy I really liked. So I began to question who I was and how I was showing up. I didn’t know what I was doing. The dating world I discovered in my 50s was not at all like it was in my 20s. And here were all these experts who had a magical answer. A golden key to quickly help me find the person I was looking for.

Magical words

I confess I even broke down. Bought a book in the middle of a long night when I couldn’t sleep. Read the whole thing. Only to find more promises if I bought a few more books. Without giving me the magical words the author had so clearly promised in the beginning.

I was a lot more skeptical after that. Decided I wasn’t going to spend any more money on false promises. Dated a couple more guys and suddenly I was very glad there weren’t any magical words in that first book. Because all it took was a little time and one guy who had a lot more character for me to realize that all the ones who had let me down were clearly not the ones for me. And if I had taken the advice of all those expensive love advisors, I would have ended up with the wrong person. Not to mention an empty bank account.

True love

Here is what I discovered about love. When you have gone on a healing journey and love the person you have become. Let go of the past and forgiven those who wronged you. When you are truly standing in wholeness and are living in authenticity, finding love is not an exhausting mind game. You don’t have to present yourself just right. Or find magical words to say. You will naturally attract the right person to you.

And the right person will fall in love with the real person you are, without even trying.

This is not to say that there’s not good advice out there. Or that it doesn’t matter how you present yourself. But today’s dating culture is furiously full of mind games. And there are lots of traps along the way. That cost time and money and slowly chip away at your confidence.

It doesn’t have to be this way. If you are one of the brave ones who has put yourself back out there, I want to encourage you that there is hope. You can buy books and sign up for magical love classes but beware of anything that promises an easy path to love. Or makes you play a part in a mind game.

Attracting love

Focus, instead, on becoming the person you want to be. Build a life that sustains you. Learn how to feed your own hunger and dry your own tears. Embrace who you are with love and tenderness. Dig deep into healing. Do the hard work of becoming the best version of yourself. And keep doing it, no matter how many people swipe right or left on you. Be willing to wait for one who checks all the boxes. Don’t settle for crumbs when you deserve a whole feast.

And if you’re left hanging.

Alone.

Again.

Let them go. You will never have to beg the right one to come back.

The right one will love you effortlessly. And you will find a kind of magic that defies logic and heals all the tired scars in your beautiful soul that you have mended and tended to for all those years on your own. The right one won’t keep you up at night, wondering how you should respond or feeling like you’re walking on eggshells. You will be able to relax fully into who you already are.

Because the right person will fall in love with the real person you are, without even trying.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Two Things

I was talking with a friend recently about her husband’s betrayal and realized again how two things can be true at the same time. I don’t know if you have ever experienced this type of betrayal or not. But if you have, perhaps you felt like I did. That you must not have truly been loved. Or valued.

For me, the betrayal made me question everything good that I had ever believed we had in the relationship. Made me doubt that I had ever been loved. Made all the good memories nearly unbelievable. Undermined every single aspect of our relationship.

But somewhere along the way, I had the realization that two things can be true at the same time. You can be truly loved by someone and betrayed by them. Your partner can be genuinely attracted to you and attracted to someone else at the same time.

two things can be true at the same time

We are not all wired the same way. For some of us, this concept just does not make sense. And we would rather cheat on our own self then cheat on our partner. We find it more palatable to sacrifice pieces of our own self and our happiness, rather than disappoint or hurt the other person.

Which leads to another hard truth that I have had to admit to myself.

I cheated on my self before I was ever cheated on.

cheating on myself

Let me say that again for all those in the back who didn’t catch it the first time.

I cheated on my self before I was ever cheated on.

What I mean by this is that I was not true to my own self long before my partner was not true to me. Looking back from this vantage point, it’s so easy to see. How many times I sacrificed good and necessary parts of myself because I wanted to make my partner happy. Wanted him to have a life where he could thrive. Because I believed that love and sacrifice were synonymous. That love cost everything and was, in many ways, painful.

Which leads down a rabbit hole of religious trauma and a god who brings pain and asks so much of me that I loose my will to live. But we are not going down that rabbit hole today.

My point is, I betrayed myself before I was betrayed. Because I thought that is what love it about. Completely abandoning myself for the sake of another. And in reconciling all of these painful truths, I realized that two things can be true at once.

duality

He cheated on me and broke my heart. And I cheated on myself.

He betrayed me. And he loved me.

He wanted to be with me. And he wanted to be with someone else.

He was with someone else. And it had nothing to do with any lack within me.

The list could go on and on. But I hope you get the point. And, if you are struggling with a betrayal of some kind, I hope it is helpful to you to realize that two things can be true at the same time.

It has helped me to let go. Relax the corners of my mind that like to hold on to certainty and logic. That fixate on one aspect and cannot see anything else. I’m learning to relax into the flow of life instead. Without having to understand everything. Or control outcomes. Because my new vantage point has given me the beautiful perspective of a new start. One that has given me the opportunity to build a life that is true to who I am. One where I am committed to never betraying my self again. A life that is true to the core of who I am. So I can be all I am meant to be

So I acknowledge the strange duality that has made itself known to me. While relaxing into the ancient wisdom of my body and learning new ways of being in the world. Handcrafting a life that honors all the things this body craves and needs to flourish.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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The Gift

Perhaps the most beautiful thing that comes from having your life completely shattered is the chance to rebuild. Weaving together people and places, values and practices, with deep intention. In many ways, I feel like I have truly been born again. At 50, I’ve been given a chance to create something I was not ready to create all those decades ago when I thought I had all the answers.


The gift of starting over was not always seen as a gift. Nor has it been easy. But after the ashes settled and the tears dried, I came to realize that there is something incredibly beautiful and powerful about choosing the life you want. Crafting it with deep intention. I’ve come to realize how powerful the mind is. And how much I have limited myself in the past. By defining my worth based on the reality I perceived rather than defining my reality by the things I know deep within my psyche.

you can do hard things


When my kids were younger and would come to me, complaining about something difficult in their lives – usually some task I had asked them to do that they did not want to do – I would agree with them. Yes, it’s hard. But then I would remind them of this. You can do hard things.


You see, the things we tell ourselves are powerful. And with our beliefs and our words, we can either put obstacles in our own path. Or we can clear the path for ourselves. Or create a new path around the obstacles. For better or worse, our words and beliefs can become self-fulfilling prophecies.


For example, if I tell myself something is going to be hard, it will most certainly be hard. But if I change the narrative and remind myself that I can do hard things, I am much better equipped to face the challenge head on and emerge feeling better about myself than before.

keeping it real


One area where this is currently showing up in my life is on the dating apps. So yes, to all of you who have been wondering, I am putting myself out there again. And I can affirm that every time I have complained that the dating apps suck, they suck even more. On the other hand, when I have truly believed in my own worth, some pretty interesting things tend to unfold.

While I’m sure you would love to know all the juicy details, for now I will tell you that I am learning a lot. And having fun in the process. I may or may not meet the man of my dreams on an app. But one thing I know for sure is that every conversation I have. Every person I meet up with. Is all a part of a beautiful exchange that is teaching me so much. About myself. About the kind of person I want to spend the rest of my life with. Giving me a chance to practice speaking up for myself. Setting boundaries. Stepping even more fully into my power.


Oh I’m collecting some pretty good stories along the way and perhaps one day I will regale you with them. I’ve also had my heart broken and felt old wounds ripped open again. But I’m standing taller than ever before. Because I know myself even better than I did before these stories unfolded in my life.


I met myself in 2023. And it was glorious. Life changing. And I am done giving my heart away for crumbs of affection. I’m holding out for the whole damn feast. There are no failed relationships. Only stepping stones to a better one.

unleash your power


So is it hard putting yourself out there again at 50? Hell yeah. But I can do hard things, and so can you. It’s scary, but that means I get to practice being brave. It’s also fun, beautiful, and empowering. And I get to meet so many interesting humans.


For those of you who find yourself in a situation that you know is not right for you, but you are too scared to leave, let me remind you of this. Darling, you can do hard things. Life is too short to survive on crumbs when you could have a feast. And you have all that it takes to get yourself out of your stuck place. The resources for that glorious feast are all around you. Break out of the prison you’ve let yourself be trapped in, for the key is already in your hand. Unclench your fists and breath in the love that has never and will never let you go.


Then live. Like never before. With intention. Clarity. Purpose. Unleash the power of your mind by believing in your worth. Never settle for crumbs when there is an entire feast waiting for you. Believe.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Ending Well

We all know by now that relationships are hard and messy. They require a lot of work and effort. When they blow up or don’t work out, it’s easier to just exit quickly and never look back. Ending well is difficult. Those months in between the time I found out about the cheating and our divorce were long and hard. Yet, when the morning of our final hearing dawned, we sat together outside the magistrate’s office, waiting our turn. Talking and laughing like old friends. Because somehow, in spite of all that had transpired, we were still friends. In fact, after it was all said and done, we tried to take a photo of the two of us with angry faces. But we ended up laughing every time. Not because our ending was funny. For it was not. But because we had found a way to hold on to friendship.

Not everyone gets to experience this. Both parties have to be willing to do the hard work of ending well. I’m very grateful that Austin was willing to show up for this process. And while I don’t have a concise how-to list for you, there are a few things I have learned from our journey that I want to share with you. They may or may not apply to your story. Take what is helpful and leave the rest.

forgiveness

I wrote briefly about forgiveness in an earlier post. For me, this had to happen before the answer of whether or not to stay in the marriage became clear to me. And I think the timing was profound. It may not work this way for everyone, but the answer did not come to me until I realized I had forgiven him.

I wish I could give you steps on how to make this happen. But I cannot. I have struggled my whole life to forgive those who hurt me. It is not something that comes easily for me. I have a strong sense of justice and fairness. And this was anything but fair.

I do know that time away helped. As did talking to my amazing therapist and friends. But I had to face a whole lot of darkness on my own. Not bypassing it by “giving it to the Lord” or choosing to immediately say I forgive. Spiritual bypassing is a harmful practice, in my opinion. Rather, I completely entered the darkness. Sat with it. Listened to my anger. Let it move through me. I went on long walks and let Mother Nature help carry my pain. I foraged for Turkey Tail Mushrooms, brewed tea and gave my body plant medicine. Instead of focusing on forgiveness, I focused on fully facing my pain and finding ways to heal. And then the forgiveness came.

And after the forgiveness came, my body and mind were in alignment and I knew what I needed to do.

Letting go

Ending well is only possible if you are able to let go. Let go of regrets. Let go of the other person. And let go of the future you thought you were going to have. That’s a whole lot of letting go. And it’s not easy. But you can approach it as a practice. A new habit that you are trying on, that gets easier the more you practice it.

It helps to have a trusted friend to talk to. Writing can also be a good way to put feelings into words and let them out. Just don’t make your soon-to-be ex the person you process this with. Not that you should never talk with them about it. But just make sure they are not bearing your disappointments on top of navigating their own.

Agreements

It’s so important to have clear short-term agreements. From lodging to money, kids to pets. You will be spending a lot of time sorting through big agreements if you are filing for divorce. But the time in between is important too. So take some time to think about what you will need and then ask for it. Maybe you need him to move out but come by in the evenings to help with the kids or give you a night to hang out with a friend. Maybe you need her to come to a therapy session with you. Perhaps you want to set aside part of every weekend to start going through the house and dividing up assets.

Take time for those difficult conversations. Don’t make assumptions. Do you still expect the other person to be monogamous? Who is going to make the house payment? What kind of boundaries do you need for your own sanity?

Think forward

One of the things that helped me the most was to picture us at Christmas a few years down the road. To really envision what I wanted us to look like. What I saw was a big happy blended family. The kids and their partners. Both of us with new partners. All of us around a big table loaded with good food, holding our bellies in laughter. That image kept me going in so many ways. Motivated me to navigate the present so that we would all want to be in the same room again someday.

We’ve not been perfect parents. Didn’t raise a perfect family. But there was always so much love and that doesn’t change with a divorce. The kids are still so important to us and I want us to always be able to laugh together. We get to define what family looks like. It’s not just flesh and blood.

One of the last pieces of furniture I bought for my new home was a table and chairs. It had to be special. Had to be big enough. Had to have a special feeling to it.

And I found just what I was looking for. I sit at it now, three times a day. Alone. And I soak up the quiet around me. I cook for myself a couple times a week and eat lots of leftovers. Some days it’s a little too quiet and I miss what we had. But the beautiful thing about ending as friends is that we can still be family. And that is more important to me than pushing for the highest dollar amount I could get in a settlement or holding on to any regrets or even trying to control his future.

My marriage is done. That chapter is completely closed and I am okay with that. But I rather love our quirky little family. And it’s not done growing yet. The table I bought has a leaf that I removed. Stored in my little laundry closet. Someday the kids and the grand kids and all their grandparents will sit around the extended table. And we’ll spill some curry as we listen to the latest escapades. And laugh till we cry while we wait for the apple dumplings to cool. We’ll remember what we once were. And we will have no regrets about what we have become.

For more tips on how to end well, I highly recommend Conscious Uncoupling by Katherine Woodward Thomas.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Sparkles in My Pocket

I love the early morning quiet. The sky barely awake, slowly dipping a toe out from under the covers of night to let the first rays of pink softly peak through. This morning I was the only person visible for a good half mile. Bare toes kissing the sleepy sand beneath my feet under the Quarter Moon sky.

These early morning rituals keep me grounded. Remind me of my place of belonging in the glorious scheme of life. And of my power to create the life I desire to have.

Perhaps I needed my life to completely break apart in order to fully realize that I don’t have to keep following the scripts that were once handed to me. Scripts that were intended to keep a system alive and well. But had very little to do with keeping me alive and well. I see that now.

Yet I have no regrets for the life I have lived to this point. And I have embraced the shattering that came to me because it brought me things I didn’t even know I needed.

shifting

This blog began as the story of my life as wife of a bi guy. And while that is no longer the platform of my life, it is still true that I once was the wife of a bi guy. And like the beautiful bits of shells that inevitably make their way into my pockets when I walk the beach, the past 25 years have left me with pockets full of sparkles. There are still so many words left for me to weave together so here we are. Starting anew in some ways.

I’m still here and I don’t need to be married to have legitimacy or a voice. I’ve laid down that script. And if you have followed my blog for the past few years, you will know I’ve been on a journey of self-realization. I’ve discovered my worth, while navigating the feelings of not being enough.

So now that the boxes are all unpacked and this house in Georgia has turned into home, let me pull out one of the sparkles in my pocket to share with you.

loss

There is much about uncoupling that I hope to eventually write about. But for now, I want to encourage you if you are sitting in a place of questions, filled with uncertainty and loss. Hang on. This is normal. Inevitable. It is a season and you get to set the tone for it.

Loss hollows us out with its sharp and cruel edges, carving huge chunks out of us. Our natural response is to try and fill that void. Anything so we don’t have to feel that pain and emptiness. The harder path here, is that of listening to the pain. Sitting in the void. Acknowledging and bearing witness to it.

Unclench your hands and hold them over your heart instead. Let your palms listen to your heartbeat and remember that life is pulsing through you. Feed your soul instead of working yourself into a frenzy trying to stop the pain and fill the void. Don’t avoid the questions, for they are your roadmap to a place where you will be able to breathe more deeply and see clearly again.

The void always has a gift, if only we are willing to still ourselves long enough. Be brave enough to fully face it. Quiet enough to really listen. For in the center of the loss, there is a piece of you. The you that you will be when this is over. If you run from this loss, fill the void with glitter to distract or numb, you will miss ever meeting that glorious piece of you.

I see the sparkle that you will be again someday. Steady on, dear one. You got this.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

Re-shaping

a family that is re-shaping itself

Twenty five years ago we spent the day smiling for photos, saying “I do”, serving burritos and six different flavors of homemade cake to our guests. The day was full of funny stories, delicious flavors and our favorite people. We walked out to our borrowed car at the end of the day, jaws aching from smiling so much. Sure that we were going to spend the rest of our lives together.

Today we spent the day sorting through our attic, dividing up mementos from these last twenty five years. We laughed at some of the silly things we saved and shared many “remember when” stories. It was bittersweet. When I opened the box of Christmas decorations and pulled out the handmade Kantha stockings that represent each person in our family, I fell apart for a bit. All the love we have in this wild and wonderful family came rushing in and it’s hard to imagine this change.

But this change does not make us a broken family. We are just a family that is re-shaping itself. This doesn’t mean we failed. Or fell short. We both poured our hearts into this beautiful family. And have no regrets. Instead we hold so much love and gratitude for what we’ve had and will continue to have. Just in re-shaped ways.

crumbling

Each of us will have moments in life where the things we have built will crumble in one way or the other. Crumbling doesn’t mean failure. It’s not the end of the world, even though it may feel like it for a long time. Crumbling, while incredibly painful, is also a gift. It is the opportunity to re-shape our life. To discard ways of being that have not served us well. And to build again in ways that honor the deepest, truest parts of ourselves.

Twenty five years ago, we built a life together using the tools we had. We did the best we could and crafted so much beauty and joy. But we have learned so much about ourselves along the way. Faced our own deep pain and traumas. Given each other a safe place to heal. And the healing we have found has changed us each in ways we could not have imagined. We are not the same people that said “I do” twenty five years ago.

If we had remained the same people that we were when we started this journey, we would have failed. Success is not a state of being; it is being present in the journey of wholeness. It is staying with the journey, not an ideal. And our journey has brought us to a place where our paths are separating.

bittersweet

The past couple of weeks have been full of practical steps towards this separation. We agreed on an attorney and filled out paperwork to start the legal process of divorce. We’ve started the task of physically going through the house and dividing up things. I’m looking at houses in a place I have wanted to move to for a very long time. We’re figuring out how to keep running our business and so much more.

It’s a time of both sadness and happiness. A time of remembering and looking ahead. It’s full of feelings and emotions, laughter and tears. It’s bittersweet in the best of ways.

I never imagined that this would be me. But the life I imagined didn’t turn out the way I expected so now I get to re-imagine. Relocate. Rebuild. In so many ways, my worst fears have been realized. And I didn’t die like I thought I would. I’m still here. Stronger and healthier than I’ve ever been before.

Don’t be afraid of the crumbling. Re-shaping your life might end up being the best gift you could receive.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

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Tomb or Womb

There’s a heaping pile of pressure on women in patriarchal cultures. Many of us learn from early childhood, to clean up messes we did not make. As quickly and quietly as possible. Trauma has caused some of us to even anticipate those messes. Metaphorically speaking, we walk about on our tiptoes, broom and dustpan in hand. Waiting and ready for the next mess. We never allow ourselves to live our own lives. Instead we focus on keeping things neat and tidy for everyone else.


This pressure is magnified in subcultures, such as the Conservative Mennonite culture I was raised in. It’s been some time since I left that culture. Yet, like a tattoo on my shoulder, it’s never completely left me. And that’s not all bad. There has been much good to come out of my upbringing. But in times like the present, I feel a hundred pairs of eyes looking at me. Expecting me to do what I was taught. To swallow my feelings and forgive my husband and throw all my efforts into saving this marriage.


There’s no space for the necessary in-between. The dark, ugly, messy, UN-knowing space. Where one can’t see the end. Where it’s so dark you can’t see a thing at all. Not even your own hands waving in front of your face. You can only feel what you feel. Where you give yourself permission to forget about the end result. And you breathe in the air of the darkness around you until you realize you’re in a womb, not a tomb.

The Womb

I feel like I'm being born again
This awful infidelity
giving me
a fresh start.
A chance to create
the life I want. 
Set my own terms.
Burrow into all the
cracks and crevices
of my tired
worn out life. 
Find all the things
that no longer serve.
Give them a boot
kick them out the door. 
Yes it's painful to see
these ashes.
But they speak to me
of new beginnings.
And I get to choose
my path forward. 
Carve a place
that has room for 
all of me.


This obsession with rushing to get things back to picture-perfect normal is killing us. It’s not life-giving or loving in the least bit. Cleaning up messes we did not make, serves no one but those in power. Rushing to forgiveness so that the other person can come home to you, means you may never get to truly come home to yourself. Quickly fixing things to make the other person comfortable means you may never truly be comfortable again.

Learning to be okay with a period of uncertainty and ambiguity is proving to be life saving for me. It’s giving me a much needed pause from the way my life has been. Allowing me to rest and be. Simply be.

And as I rest, realizations come to me. Rising slowly to the surface where I can sift and sort through. See with clear eyes the things that no longer serve me. Knowing deep in my core that as I learn to fully come home to myself, the rest will eventually fall into place.

Want to hear more? You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

When the Light Dims

Standing at the ocean’s edge, I feel like a woman who has lost everything. I am as worn and diminished as the grains of sand beneath my feet, desperate for a tiny scrap of light to break through the clouds. Needing a sunrise like I have never needed one before. It is one of those mornings when it is hard to tell where my tears end and the gray mist begins. This was me in mid-October…

going silent

Let me back up a bit. I know I’ve gone silent. Pulled into myself like a turtle who needs to hide for a bit. As much as I love words, they fled from me. Vanished. Refused to be crafted. I feel like a woman who has lost everything, even my words.

And I suppose it was a good thing, to be left alone with raw and wild emotions. To fully feel them before I tried to express them in a way that can even begin to make sense.

Yet, even now, these words are getting in the way of me going back to where the story of this grief journey began. Back to October. Back when the leaves were in their riotous dance of color and the sky still held enough blue to make one stop and stare in wonder.

Days that reminded me of the moment, twenty five years ago, when I knew Austin was finally going to ask me out. It was a perfectly glorious Fall day in Brooklyn and I had gone on a long walk to process this news that seemed to good to be true. Feet crunching through piles of bright yellow leaves, giddy with excitement, I felt seen and loved in a way I never had before. And the whole world looked different because of it. More alive. Bright with a hope that lingered on every street corner and whispered through the few city trees. Even the light itself seemed golden and alive.

Broken bits

And now, twenty five years later, I discover that he broke our agreements. That I wasn’t the only one he chose to be intimate with. This October, as my feet crunched through piles of bright yellow leaves, I felt as if I’d been shattered into a thousand pieces. While rain dripped down the cheeks of my city, I stumbled in a world gone dark.

I took a week to go to the ocean and grieve. To be alone and think. To move out of shock and begin to process what this means. And I still don’t know what all of this means. I do know that the world has gone very dark and much of what I thought I knew is now as uncertain as the ice on an Ohio lake after the first spring thaw.

listening

One thing I do know is that I am not going to clean up a mess that I didn’t make. I’m not jumping to fix things. I’m developing a practice of listening. Listening to the little girl inside who is surprising me with her insight. Listening to wise and trusted friends. Leaning into the wisdom of my therapist. I am holding my kids the best I can. They may be grown but they’re hurting a lot right now too.

I’m also listening to Austin, curious to know why he cheated on me. It took me a while to get to a place where I can truly listen without being constantly triggered. We are having deep and vulnerable conversations. It’s hard work and often painful. But we are not hiding our truth from each other.

There is much that I’m holding close and not sharing publicly right now. Truth is, I love Austin and have always believed in him. I have no desire to smear his reputation and I don’t feel a need to share details. But I’m sharing this here because you deserve to know there’s been a hard twist in our story.

Please hold our family in as much love and grace as you can. We are all so broken right now. I ask that you honor our privacy. Give us time to grieve the collapse of life as we knew it. The future, no matter what we decide to do or not do, will be difficult.

And, in case you wonder, after a long walk under a gray sky, this amazing ribbon of orange light shone through and reminded me that darkness is not forever.

You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon. Drop me a line if you want to be added to my email list.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

My Mother’s Daughter

Have you met my mother's daughter? 
hair pulled tight to keep 
ears from sticking 
out too far
slicked back with
dippitydoo
long skirts over banged up knees
that preferred to kneel
in the dirt
by the creek
run away
by herself
find the meadow of flowers
tucked behind the woods
where her voice could roar and 
bounce across the hills
sing songs that were silly
and dance in the dirt

The one who was a little 
too much
so they hushed her with rules
and set her up to fail if
she opened her mouth
but gave her a place of 
belonging
just for her
IF
she was quiet and
submissive
go to church but
not speak in it
bring casseroles and 
jello cakes
in colorful dishes
leave them on the table
for others to consume.
give her body
scrub the toilets
hold the babies
wash the mud and dirt 
off the floor and
the shoes
and the clothes
pull that wild curly hair 
 tighter
pin it into a bun
hide it!
all the wild glory
behind a piece of pleated cloth
cover those once-skinned knees 
with pantyhose please
don't let your skin be seen
give up
the things you want
sacrifice with joy
give your life away
but hold on
to purity and
keep those curves covered
work harder, don't stop
wipe the tears of those around you
but hide yours
it's not okay to need  or want
when others are suffering
sit here for family photo
hide the disaster that lurks
beneath the picture
perfect smiles pasted
over mental health that is rotting
turn the lights brighter to 
cover the darkness that holds us
clenches us in a grip so tight
hold the one who
wants to die
fix her
all by yourself
because you have god
and that is all you need
besides there is no one
who sees you 
all alone
carrying a load too big
staggering
stumbling
all for crumbs of praise
recognition that comes
for good girls who
are too much 
so they must
give too much

Have you met my mother's daughter? 
with the load so big it would crush her
if she tried to lay it down
her only way out then
to just keep going
keep saving others since
she cannot save herself
from a load of being
too much
so she crosses continents
and gives her life away
because there was too much
 grief to stay 
in the place where
my mother's daughter
had to grow herself up alone
be her father and her mother
knead the bread and 
be the bread
until one day
she was all used up
and the sun no longer shown
on her inner landscape
and she had nothing left 
with which to pretend
that it was light 
and she was all right
so she fell
down
down
down
under the load she had
carried for far too long
and it crushed her
split her
into
a thousand pieces

And then
Glory!
she found her banged up knees 
in the beautiful dirt 
by the creek
she found her hands
in the meadow of flowers
tucked behind the woods
and there was her voice!
roaring and bouncing across the hills
singing songs that were silly
and there were her feet
dancing in the dirt
and when she looked into the stream
it stilled as a mirror
and she saw
finally saw
my mother's daughter
as she was always meant to be
and there the wind caressed her
tumbled her curls round her shoulders
and under the light 
of a sumptuous moon
she found what they were always afraid of
she found her whole self
her too-much not-enough self
that was actually just right
so she stepped fully into her skin
all of it
and the sky dripped 
giant tears of joy 
while the hills laughed
with relief at
the sheer beauty
of a woman
who finally 
stepped into
her whole skin.

When I was 5 years old, we rented a little house next to a pig farm. Beyond the yard and the pig pen was a lovely little creek. Behind it, the woods. I would venture off, exploring, every chance I had. One day I discovered a meadow of wild spring flowers, tucked into a corner of the woods. Some of my earliest moments of happiness were there in those woods.

Time passed and we moved. From house to house. State to state. I was born a granddaughter of a preacher. Later I became the daughter of one. I grew up in a tight community. But I also grew up alone. Learned how to hide the un-health of others. Carried burdens that were too heavy for a child. Some things are not yet speak-able because, contrary to the stories some tell about me, I really do love and care for my family.

But this poem has bubbled to the surface and wants to be given wings. So I release it to the winds that watched me step fully into my own skin. All of it. And know it will be taken to my sisters who still believe they are too-much, not-enough.

And the next time the wind roars past your ears, don’t be fooled. It’s never just the wind. It’s another one of us stepping fully into our own skin.

Want to hear more? Contact me here to be added to my mailing list. You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon.

Posted on by palmtreemomma

The Truth Wrapped in Dreams

If you’ve been following me for any length of time, you’ll know that dreams are important to me. I find they alert me to the things I need to pay attention to. They bring clarity and understanding. Fresh ways of seeing things that help me to navigate difficult situations during my wakeful hours. Opportunities to bring healing to painful events in the past. They help me to find my voice and bring me the courage to refuse to be erased.

I’m a bit jealous of people who can just go to bed and sleep for hours and hours when they feel depressed or overwhelmed. I am not a great sleeper at the best of times, and when I am feeling depressed or anxious, it’s harder than ever to get deep sleep.

One thing I do have going for me, however, is that I dream a lot. And when I start to pay attention to my dreams, it seems as if I dream more often. There have been a number of compelling dreams that have ended up in my dream journal this year, but the one I’m about to share is one of the most vivid and entertaining of them all. And it is so very telling.

The amusement park

In my dream, I returned to a faith community whose leader was responsible for some of my religious trauma. When I arrived, a friend welcomed me, yet, when we tried to find a place to sit, there was no space for me. Even though my friend easily found a place for herself. The daughter of the leader refused to look at me, rendering me invisible. Various creatures filled my dream, both human and animal. But what struck me was the feeling of shame I bore, even though I had done nothing wrong. I found it difficult to look the humans in the eye. Yet, later in the day, I saw some of them either stoned or drunk on the floor. I marveled to myself that hours earlier, they had been the ones who were deemed “holy” and acceptable.

There was a growing sense of danger. Buildings broke apart and were swept away by an unseen force, yet I didn’t leave until I was attacked and bitten by an animal. When I dialed 911, they thought I was at an amusement park. I made it clear that, no, I am at “the church” and I need to be picked up. Now! When he arrived, the first responder thought I was a reporter and wanted to drop me in the special section outside the hospital set up to treat reporters. Clearly, the catastrophe was a big one and was gathering attention.

the reporter

Let’s face it. The church has become something akin to an amusement park where the cost of entry is high and just might be costing more than we think.

Perhaps I am a reporter. One who was almost erased. One who was used and then cast aside.

There is not enough space here to list all the ways this leader and those who worshiped him both wounded and silenced me. Discouraging me from seeking mental health help when I was on the verge of breaking down. Suggesting we may have sinned when my husband and I lost a baby. Denied days of rest that were desperately needed. Shutting down our voices when we suggested that certain policies would be harmful to people we cared deeply about.

During a large gathering of an organization he presided over, this leader brought to the stage a young man who he celebrated as the first volunteer of this particular organization. My husband and I looked at each other in shock, since we had just completed years of volunteering for this very organization. I felt both humiliated and erased in one fell swoop.

the body’s wisdom

When I reflect back on those years, what strikes me most is that I was not allowed to listen to the wisdom of my body. Instead, the body was seen as evil. Not to be trusted. Even basic human needs for rest were controlled and limited. I became so exhausted and burned out that I developed compassion fatigue. But I was expected to keep going.

The ironic thing is, I can remember the leader quoting the verse about the heart being desperately wicked and who can know it. Using it to prove that we can’t trust ourselves. Our gut. Yet we were supposed to trust the things he said. And people did. They responded to his words like eager puppies, desperate for drops of affection from their master.

Refuse to be erased

This has been a difficult post for me to write and I realize this dream has stirred up things that I probably did not have the energy to fully process until now. I found myself starting and stopping more often than usual. It’s one of the hottest days of the year so far, yet I have been drawn outdoors again and again. To plant my bare feet in the grass, walk the backbone of Mother Earth and take in sweet breaths of her warm air. Bare toes curling over blades of grass as I remember the pain and disappointment I felt. First of being so controlled. And then erased. My body is showing me the way to process this old grief.

And the beautiful thing about the human body is that it knows when it is being mistreated or erased, sometimes before our minds comprehend it. There is great danger in any religion or organization that teaches this knowledge as a dangerous thing, rather than the ancient wisdom that it is.

but i refuse to be erased

In my dream, my body took much abuse and betrayal before I was ready to get myself out of the situation. And while this parallels my real life in so many ways, and I wish I had “dialed 911” sooner, I am grateful to be where I am. The tent of wounded reporters is far safer and more restful than the amusement park that the church has become.

I know there are many others like me, who have been controlled and then erased by the church. If this strikes a cord, know that you are not alone. Like the butterfly from an earlier dream, who pulled herself out of the mud and flew across the ocean with giant holes in her wings, the muck cannot hold you down. Keep beating your wings. We will not be erased. We will display the holes that have ravished our wings – and we will fly anyway.

Want to hear more? Contact me here to be added to my mailing list. You can also find me on Instagram @maritajmiller and Facebook Beyond The Cocoon.