Your gnarled tapestry is beautiful.
Your gnarled tapestry is beautiful.
By Sarah Chann
My life tapestry is a lived work of art.
A blend of black, blue, gold, green, and red.
Gnarled and knotted in places.
Perfectly woven in others.
When I was 18, I thought I experienced the worst thing that could ever happen to me…
Unh! Unh! Unh!
My mouth forced these noises out, as my stomach muscles involuntarily contracted.
Test after hospital stay after test revealed I had propriospinal myoclonis, which was my spinal cord giving me electric shocks, but it wasn’t long before I proved this diagnosis incorrect.
The involuntary noises turned to fits, which morphed into me losing control of my arms, beating myself round the head, a stutter, verbal tics.
This time the diagnosis came back as “it’s psychological…”
By this time, I was 24 and I thought this new diagnosis was now the worst thing that could ever happen to me…
I thought this new diagnosis was now the worst thing that could ever happen to me…
By the time I was 24 I was working and studying full time. I would return home from work, and every night I went to bed, I would be assailed by old memories.
Again and again and again, images from the past would rise to the surface of my brain and be released into my body.
It finally became clear why I had dealt with depression and suicidal ideation for so long. It made sense why about verbal and physical tics I had learned to live with.
Every day I went to work, my good girl, perfectionist mask in place, while each night I cried and screamed and self-harmed…
Because really, it all began when I was 3. This, I knew, was the worst thing that could ever happen.
I couldn’t help but remember.
There is a very clear demarcation in my life between the golden girl, my inner 2 year old, who dances and sings in the sunshine, and my 3 year old, whose soul is tainted with the brush of sexual abuse at the hands of a man.
With this unfolding knowledge came power.
Now, I had the knowledge of what happened to me. I had the echo of those manipulative whispers in my ear, telling me that it was my fault, that I had walked down that corridor on purpose, that if I didn’t cooperate, then it would be my sisters who his hands crawled all over next, that if I told anyone, then everyone would know what a bad girl I was.
This knowledge gave me the power that that my long-standing beliefs that I was less than enough, unworthy, a bad girl, tainted, useless, good for nothing, all came from outside of myself.
That knowledge gave me the impetus I needed to face my demons.
To stop running from and fighting the depression.
To stop hating my body.
To stop hating myself.
To start living instead of barely surviving.
And so began my foray into healing.
Into knowing and understanding who I truly am, not who I had been told I was.
Into the heart of my truth.
I dove into the essence of my golden girl, grabbing hold of her threads of light, and I bought them up to the surface of my life.
I started weaving them into the darkness, transmuting it from the suffocating blackness of not being good enough, into the lighter grays of acceptance of what was, into the reds of anger, the blues of grief, the greens of healing.
I bowed and wept and rose.
Again and again.
I learned that my body could be a safe place to be.
I started listening to her speak to me.
I became fluent in her language.
I learned to let the waves crash over me because I knew that I was more powerful than the strongest of emotions, more powerful than the darkest of thoughts, more powerful than the most atrocious of memories.
I am powerful.
Every inch of my life tapestry is a testament to my power. It tells the story of how the worst things I thought could ever happen to me truly became my greatest gifts.
It tells the story of having my power stolen from me, of feeling completely and utterly powerless, and of reclaiming my power. Of wrenching it back from the grasp of low self worth, poor self image, and perfectionist, people pleasing.
You are powerful, too.
No matter your story, your lineage, your history, your power lies within you, a small seed waiting for you to call on it.
The knots and gnarls in your own tapestry are what lend it its beauty. It is time for you to step forward now and claim your power as your own. Grasp it in two hands and draw it up into your life and live from that place. It is your greatest gift.
About Sarah Chann
Sarah Chann helps women connect with their powerful centre, heal from the past, and trust in the wisdom of their bodies. She uses guided meditations, energy healing, and embodiment practices as part of her work.
Are you ready to rip off the masks of perfectionism and people pleasing and to live in a way that honors your truth, your soul essence, & the fiery power of who you actually are?
Then let’s connect.