I’ve been on the ‘missing list’ for the majority of my life. Along with a lot of other ‘missing’ folk.
And the truth is, I have really missed me not being around.
I, like so many others, had access to a knowingness as a child of how we could and should be. I was aware of it from an early age. I didn’t speak often but when I did, it was for all.
I spoke up about abuse and I loved humanity. However, it wasn’t long before I made a choice to keep quiet to avoid being told ‘the world didn’t work that way’ and that ‘I thought like a communist.’ I didn’t know what that was but it didn’t sound real good. And so I lost my ability to express.
I lost my innate sexiness as a woman in my early teens, right after I discovered it actually.
It was quenched by a family member whose own hurts told me not to flaunt who I was or someone would take advantage of me for doing so.
But here’s the thing – I wasn’t ‘flaunting’ it, wasn’t ‘selling myself’ as I was being accused of, I was merely feeling what being a gorgeous young woman was all about and I was celebrating that.
And it felt good.
I wasn’t doing anything to deliberately attract the ogling eyes of men, though I was accused of it.
I wasn’t parading myself through areas where men hung out to attract their attention. In fact, I soon learnt to avoid those places because I didn’t appreciate the offensive behaviour of the men hanging out of pub windows or building sites making crude comments about me, or the wolf whistling. It made me feel uncomfortable.
I wasn’t baring my breasts for all to see and I wasn’t wiggling my buttocks in an effort to attract the attention of anyone who would look.
What I did feel though, was a movement in my body that had a lovely flow when I walked, I enjoyed the feel of fabric around my body, I loved the soft curves my body was developing and the twinkle in my eyes that lit up my face when I looked in the mirror.
Slowly, that twinkle in the eye that I used to love when I saw myself in the mirror started to wane, eventually flickering out.
The sadness of missing myself started to set in and I slowly disappeared.
All that was left was the shell of who I used to be; who I actually am. When I looked in the mirror there was no light left to shine out to the world.
I wore clothes to hide what was underneath.
I began to walk in a way that made me less than who I was. It was a walk that sauntered my body along the street.
I walked without authority. I walked in fact and deliberately so, to make myself not stand out. I walked the walk that said “I don’t care about myself.”
I just wanted to fit in with what the majority of my age group had decided was acceptable.
I chose to be, to the best of my ability, a zombie. It simply brought less attention my way. And it asked nothing of me.
And that is what I modelled to the world.
I obliged boyfriends even though I could feel in my body it wasn’t ok.
I physically worked like a man despite my body asking me not to.
I avoided mirrors and I ate what my taste buds desired and what would numb me.
There was a short phase of alcohol drinking in my late 30’s early 40’s after my marriage had broken up. It helped to further numb how I was feeling and it was socially acceptable. It made me feel like I was part of ‘the group’ but the after-effects made me feel like I was party to nothing!
I overrode every message my body was communicating with me.
When the emptiness became too much I began my journey searching out ways to reclaim myself back.
I wanted to reignite what had been there from the beginning. There were a lot of workshops attended and money spent that was difficult to find and unwisely spent.
The energetic imprint of some of those experiences held me back and created their own problems in my body.
The most wonderful thing though about that search was indeed the day I found my way to Serge Benhayon.
A flyer had arrived on my desk regarding his work and the workshops he was offering through Universal Medicine. I attracted a lot of similar brochures and business cards, all of which had been making their way to the bin. However, Serge’s remained on my desk, being shuffled around for close to six months before I made a move.
And so began my true journey back to me.
I, like so many others, have so much to appreciate this man for.
Serge Benhayon is so steady, walks the Truth he speaks and delivers in such a way that the Truth is felt in the body first and foremost. He provides a platform that is supportive for the change that is so desperately needed.
Sometimes I left his workshops angry at words he had spoken because they stirred a truth in me that I was not wanting to accept. Always I left his workshops a totally different person to the one who had arrived earlier in the day.
Regardless of the reaction, I always came home clearer than when I had left.
Gradually the excess weight started to disappear (approx. 20 kilos) and the self-appreciation is slowly returning. The blinkers obscuring the truth of this world and what I had been accepting as ‘normal’ have started to drop away.
Michael Benhayon has offered unwavering support on my journey back to me. The words ‘thank you’ substantially lack the grandness of what he has truly offered me.
What the Benhayons offer in their everyday livingness is inspirational, encouraging and it is so appreciated.
Despite the yearning for rediscovering my amazing self, I have come to understand that I can be pretty elusive. Out of fear, lack of self-appreciation, lack of self-love and self-worth, I can dodge, avoid and delay the most gorgeous rediscovery of me.
Slowly though, I am emerging. I’m somewhat like a butterfly making her way out of an almost solidified cocoon. I am emerging long after my youth has been lived. The woman who dares to look in the mirror now is coaxing herself to accept her older body, but there is a twinkle that is beginning to shine again and it is that twinkle that is encouraging the woman within to once again come out and play.
By Julie King, 57, Disability Care Support Worker, caring community member, gorgeous woman finding herself and sharing it with the world