Deep bow back atcha, sweetheart.

I have been away from the computer for 24 hours, Pinkies- being with my family. I am just now coming back, where I sit in awe at what is happening here. Words cannot express what I feel when I see what we are creating, what we are feeling, how we are healing. Thank you is not enough, but thank you.

I wish I had time to respond to each of you individually, but instead, I will say simply that I love each of you, I honor your core wounds, I sit silently with your stories, and I hear you- I really, truly hear you. Your voice has not gone unnoticed. Namaste.

Joy- I never knew the etymology of the word. It sounds like a blessing when you say it that way. It's been my badge since grade school. I am like you-never really considered it bad...but never really good. You've blessed me.

Lorraine- I agree...I feel very comfortable wandering around here & enjoying the atmosphere. Even if we can't quite articulate the injury...I feel it stands a chance of healing here.

Billy-Good point.

Lissa-Thank you for creating this space & inviting me in.

Jane-that's a wonderful poem. It touched my heart.

Lissa, thank you. I don't have time to craft a well thought out message so I'll just say thank you. Glad to have found the ladies here.

Dear Quinn Creative

Thank you for putting forward such a honest, sensitive and heartfelt question. And certainly I don't think there is any right answer to it. You feel how you feel and are indeed entitled to speak your truth whether that seems socially acceptable or not. It seems that you are trying to navigate this territory of loss on the inside which makes it unclear which approach to take when engaged in conversation.

I would urge you to remember that you are not accountable for your past, your pain or your experiences - to anyone! With this understanding it becomes more about your relationship with yourself and with the grief surrounding the loss of that child. It is such a personal experience that you may not want to mention it when you first meet someone. But you know, if you did, the experience is a part of you and you need to give yourself permission to be completely unabashed for speaking your truth.

Similarly, if someone asks you how many children you have and you mention a child that has passed - it's your truth. It is understandable that people are generally ill equipped to deal with issues such as death and loss but if you need to honor the birth, life and death of that child out loud because it is an integral part of who you are and your relationship with that child...I say more power to you!

You don't have to answer any questions that you don't want to. You simply need to say where you are, "It's still a bit too early for me to talk about it" or "Maybe another time I can explain".

The key is being able give yourself free reign to speak your truth. People on the outside are quite capable of taking care of themselves. Your only job right now is to be gentle with yourself, allowing yourself to heal and find your peace in the midst of and beyond your loss.

I hope that this is contains at least some truth for you.

With love and blessings

Caroline

Sarah, I wanted to mention something to you -- hope you're checking back. I was often called "the weird friend" by my college gang. It was used lovingly for the most part, but it did speak to the fact that I wasn't like anyone else, nor was I really capable of it. I wore the badge with a strange kind of pride in that it differentiated me. I never really had a sense that it was a particularly bad thing, but unable to see how it was really good either. Then, a couple of months ago, a teacher of mine gave us the etymology (word origin) of the word "weird," which is "one who combines heaven and earth." I looked it up myself and found other phrases like "That which comes," "Fate," and (my favorite) "other-worldly." Weirdness, my friend, is a form of transcendence. Divinity. Knowing. How cool would it be if everyone strove for weirdness? As Lissa said -- own it, babe. From one weirdo to another, love & peace. xoxo

oh i have searched for my tribe all my life

i have shrunk to try to fit in

i have cut away bits of myself to try to fit in

i have evaporated my juice, dampened my fire, dulled my light to fit in...

and i am just allowing myself to see that maybe my tribe starts inside me...

starts with my own authenticity and then

...my tribe smells me...

they see my light...

they see my head above the trees,

they see that fire and it warms them - and doesn't burn them the way it seems to burn the others...

and then i will truely be home...

(((((((((((Lissa)))))))))))))

Thank you for revealing your hearts and souls. In honoring who are with all of our wounds and pain, we heal. So simple. And not always easy to remember.

I can really relate to so much is being said and I especially related to Lissa, feeling like "other".

Being a foster child, victim of physical, sexual abuse, being gay, being....so many things that I honor and love about me and my history and at that the same time, these same things always made me feel like "other".

In our suffering we grow and heal. Thank God we are awake to this.

God bless this community, God bless our lives, God bless our coming together, God bless our healing and God bless our connection.

I love you Lissa for bringing us all together and I spread my love and light out to you all.

Bless you All, Laura Fenamore

Lissa,

Thank you for this post. I've never thought much about my core wound and I'm torn as to whether it is loss or fear of loss. I feel as if everyone I love leaves me. And when things are good, I'm always waiting for the rug to be torn out from under me.

My parents died by the time I was 27 (mom had lung cancer from smoking, dad had a heart attack). My older brother and sister had moved away. My younger sister went to live with our older sister after Dad died. I just wasn't in a position to raise her alone. I lost some friends when Mom died, I didn't grieve the way they "expected" me to. And with Dad's death I was thrown out into the real world and left to fend for myself. No chance to really stop and take stock of my life or grieve at all. I had to keep going or live in a cardboard box.

My love life was non-existent until my mid-thirties. No man ever showed any interest in me. I thought I'd be the crazy old cat lady. When we met I was in a daze. I thought finally it's MY TURN. But even he ended up leaving me. Unfortunately he didn't die. He cheated and lied to me for 5 years, uprooting my life and making me move all over the city with him. I really thought I loved him and he loved me. That pain of betrayal was unbearable.

Then about 6 months after he left me I lost my job. It's like the world keeps kicking me when I'm down, not letting me get up.

Kerri, when I first read your comment I thought, that poor woman, living with that raw wound. After your second comment I understood. I remembered that everyone grieves differently. For me, that raw wound makes me scream, "I can't do this! I can't go on!" and I curl up in a ball and stop functioning. I admire your strength in being able to keep going. Your ability to embrace the pain and make it a part of who you are so you can help others is amazing. I need to bury these wounds deep in order to function. The pain is too crippling, even now I'm a blubbery mess and I can't clearly see the computer screen. I've been working with a therapist to try to heal the wounds. It's the hardest thing I've ever done.

Thank you Alice! And yes, Lorraine, you are welcome here. No one need expose anything they're not ready to share. We are happy to have you strolling around and enjoying the atmosphere. For many of us, just telling ourself the truth is enough to set us free. We need not share our truth with the world.

But for those of you telling your truth in writing, we honor you. We hold the space for you. We treasure knowing you better.

One thing that occurs to me every time we share a dialogue like this is that Owning Pink serves as a huge reminder to me to take what we've learned here- that everyone is beautiful and special- and take it into the real world. Next time someone at work or in your family or community pushes your buttons and leads you to think negative thoughts about that individual, realize how you might respond if that person were to tell their story here at Owning Pink. Probably, you would open your heart to compassion and validate the experience of their life. Yet, in real life, we can so easily get triggered.

What if, next time you feel that way, you respond as you might here, with love and compassion, even when maybe you don't agree? Just a little challenge. I've been thinking about that in my real world, and it's affecting how I behave. I'm not perfect (and people still piss me off), but I just imagine, what if this person was a Pinkie?

Food for thought...

Lissa,

You offer so much acceptance and love that you set the prime example for the space we have here. That people feel safe sharing their stories is the manifestation of that.

We are truly here to support one another, and that is what makes this site so truly unique and wonderful.

May we all see, through the comments on this post and through participation in Owning Pink, that who we truly are is more than "enough" - special, valuable, and wonderful. Our experiences, pain, lessons, and strength give us the chance to support each other, grow, and learn surrender, acceptance, and love deeper than we would have otherwise.

Love and light to all. Alice

Dear Lissa, It takes courage to acknowledge one's own vulnerabilities, and then share with others. I think that many people are commenting here because we all want to know that we are "normal" enough, and are lovable and acceptable as we truly are.

My family was quite dysfunctional, and I have spent my life and career creating healthier relationships. As a psychologist specializing in relationships and women's issues, I have certainly realized that we all have wounds that need love and attention.

I also moved a lot in my childhood. I went to three high schools, and was often the "new girl". I worked very hard for everyone to like Michelle, and it usually worked. But at a cost, don't you think? Always caring what others think, and acting accordingly has been a lifetime of perfectionism and workaholism.

Everyone wants a safe haven, and to be "gotten"-empathy, attunement, love & connection are basic human needs.

As a woman in her 40's I have finally realized that I am creating my own healthy family with my husband, sons, friends and community. And I do still care what others think. But, I try to not care what everyone thinks all of the time!

It is wonderful that you have invited a community of authenticity, sharing and acceptance. We do not need to heal or fix others. We need to accept, understand, positively mirror and encourage people to be the people they truly want to be. Thank you for being YOU. Warmly, Michelle DrMichelleGannon@gmail.com

And Sarah, if you're weird then I'm weird too. Let's celebrate our weirdness! Weirdos unite! I don't mean to make light of your core wound, Sarah- I'm just kidding. I'm just letting you know that I feel different too. (I often use the word freakish to describe myself). But I've come to realize that there's something beautiful about being different. Were I ordinary (normal/fit in/average), I might not be here with all of you, doing what we are doing, being who we really are. I say let's embrace being weird, but let's do it in community...

Sarah,

"Weird" is also unique and yourself, and I say, own it, girl! Because the true friends are those who will know you and love you for being yourself. They'll find you. Meanwhile, we all offer you loving care and friendship, and know that we all own weird in our own ways and it's perfectly Pink. Thank you for your contribution and welcome.

With love, Alice

Wow, Lissa, and wow to all of you who posted here. What bravery to share your personal struggles, and what comfort we are able to take in knowing we are part of this Owning Pink community of love and acceptance. Look at what this means - a group of people who feel alone or weird or struggle(d) with grief, loss, and pain have found people here who encircle them in the warm arms of "it's ok" and "we understand" - just what was and is needed and craved.

Lissa - see what you've done! I hope you do. I agree with what Fred said about you exemplifying all of the things on his list in your life, and by creating this safe haven for us. And I know we are all so grateful that you did.

As for me, I am still finding out who I am as things unfold for me, and it has caused some alienation as people don't really understand me, or they create preconceived notions about what it means to be a Reiki practitioner. I made a rather sudden change in the past year to taking my Reiki teacher role seriously and changing my life to fit around this. It threw some people off who don't really understand what I'm doing and they treated me like I'm weird. I don't have many friends anyway, but I would have to say that this sets me further apart from people in "regular life" like the other parents at my kids' school. Friendships I have made online have become more meaningful than my interactions with people in real life.

As far as friendships in general, I tend to be an intense person with big energy and I think it throws people off. It takes a lot for someone to see me for who I am and still want to be my friend. My husband is one person who fits into that category, and I'm very grateful for that!

This Owning Pink community, I'll say it again, is a wonderful place to feel okay about being the real me and still feeling warmly accepted and even appreciated for it. I am so grateful, Lissa - what you've done here goes beyond real life to create a better reality for us all. The groups that are forming in different communities where Pinkies can get together is hope for a new world - truly. This shows that it's more than virtual, but exists in real space too - what an accomplishment. You are changing the world, Lissa, and we are all a part of this wonderful change.

Thank you.

Lissa,

I think it's a just a matter of perspective. I would NEVER say that I wish my son had never been here. Well, maybe in the darkest days right after his death. On those days that I distanced myself from my living children because I was afraid of being even more vulnerable by loving them and possibly losing them, too. Your advice would have applied then.

And I think there can be reason and meaning in exposing my wound. I know for a fact that it helps other women who have faced a similar loss. But, it has been 4 years for us so we have moved on in that we do normal activities. We enjoy our family and our children, all of them. And we always honor Nolan by remembering him. He counts in our listed number of children even though he's not here.

I guess my point is that I am here, living a fulfilling life with my wound. It's part of who I am. I don't want it to heal over to become a faint scar. If you look at me, I don't want to hide it. It is a part of who I am. And that might be a tiny bit of the old me peeking out. Because I haven't let the loss consume it but yes, it's there.

I used to work with a lady who lost her 6 year daughter 30 years ago. I knew her very well and we talked about everything under the sun in the 5 years that we were office mates. It wasn't until my son died that she told me about her daughter. And boy, was her story one of the saddest ones out there. I remember being shocked that we had known each other for so long and she kept this story a secret. I used to rib her for 'only' have one child and yet she still kept quiet. I was SO thankful that she shared her story with me. And a little sad that she kept it bottled in.

Ack - I just noticed the time. I have to get ready for a market day here so I can't finish my thoughts here. Just didn't want you to think I'm constantly wallowing in self pity. I'll check back later.

April, Loving ourselves is the most powerful thing we can do. I am ecstatic that you are so much closer to being okay with who you are. I have no doubt that you are incredible. I would love to see you in our forum: www.owningpink.com/forum being vulnerable in a community that loves you unconditionally is the best medicine for not valuing yourself.

Hope to see you there, Megan

ZenPanda, I also share a similar situation as far as our mother's not being nurturing. Over the years, I had to come to the point where I "Chose" my mother, just how she is; hard headed, lying, manipulative, etc. Our mom's are not going to change. They are how they are. Although they have no loved us the way we wanted them to, we must keep in mind they truly did the very best they could at the time. And that is how it is, it does not mean anything about us, it just is.

Much Love, Megan

My core wound is never being seen for who I am. Although my parents adored me and doted on me (I am an only child, after all)....apparently they never saw me for who I was...for who I am. This wound has carried over into most aspects of my life - particularly my relationships with men. I have spent so much time and effort trying to get men to love me, to cherish me, to appreciate me....to SEE me....and I have resorted to any means possible to achieve this goal. Many times the means I have used are ones that actually accomplish quite the opposite - either chase them away or attract the wrong kind of man.

It is only after several years of therapy that I have been enlightened to all of this. I still don't know if I can concretely remember examples of my parent not seeing me for who I am. I don't blame them. That wouldn't do me any good. But I do accept it for what it is. And I do see how it led me to hurdle red flags, to make desperate decisions, and to end up with two failed marriages. Because of this core wound, I was never really ok with who I am. But Hallelujah and praise GOD....I am finally becoming so. Accepting.....CONTENT. I am not at my final destination; I never will be. But the journey certainly is more bearable, enjoyable even, now that I am ok with my travelling partner - ME.

My childhood was far from ideal. We were public assistance poor and we moved around a lot. I don't even know how many schools I went to from Kindergarten until 5th grade - a lot. I never knew my father. The man whose name I was given...well, he wasn't ever around but when we met in my adult years DNA testing proved he wasn't the man. My mom married a man that I despised, my stepdad. He was a drug dealer and brought shame and embarrassment to me and our family. I was only a teeny bit sad when he died. (Boy, that sounds awful!)

In spite of all of this, I would not have said I was wounded if you had asked me prior to June 17th, 2005. I would have said that my difficult upbringing made me who I was - a strong woman. after that date...well, I was more then wounded. I believe that my wound can not be healed. I will not let it. I will hang onto this pain forever. The wound that ripped me in half was when my youngest son died of SIDS. That event scooped *me* out and emptied me. It changed everything. It obliterated my faith. It made me question things that I never had questioned before. It changed my marriage. Even things that stayed the same were different because I was different.

What lessons have I learned? That we can't always be in control of our destiny. Sometimes life sucks in a really bad way no matter how good a person you are.

What might heal those wounds? Forgiving myself for not being able to prevent my son's death? For not being a good enough mom to him? Impossible.

I may be different in that I want my wound to be raw. I don't want it to heal because it's my connection to my youngest son. And it's also my connection to other women who had had a similar lose. Because when I talk to them, they get it.

I have never felt like I conected with my mther. It has haunted me all my life. Especially now that I am an adult. She was never the touchy-feely type and very harsh with punishment.

I am now a mother to 4 great kids. I have hugged them everyday, anytime I say hi or good bye. I am trying to make up for missing what I needed as a child.

I think I have worked through much of it by being the parent I wanted and making sure my children know that I will always support, love & be there for them. No questions asked.

I'm not sure how to reach my mother but I am at a place where it is not as important as it once was. I love my mother. I need to eventually let her know that out loud.

Let us shout with you, dear Megan. You kick ass- and the whole world should know it. We are so honored to have you on the Owning Pink team, and you have SUCH value. You know it. Deep down, you've known it all along...

What a beautiful story, Leeta! Acceptance is so key. How can we possibly love others or be loved by others until we accept where we are, just as we are. Learning to forgive, accept, and love yourself is huge. Kudos to you for a job well done.

And Shell, oh, honey. I hear you and sit silently with your story. Love to you.

Remember, Pinkies, it is in these core wounds that we connect. But don't let that get us stuck. We are here to heal, to transform, to move beyond our wounds, to enrich each other, to grow, to flourish, to own our Pinkest Pink!

core wound- Wow, this is really really deep and touching. I think for me the core wound has been acceptance. I always striving for acceptance- at any cost... this has been as far back as i can remember, wanting to be liked and accepted, and yet feeling that I wasn't. Perhaps due to my meek disposition, it drew the attention of bullies, etc, so negative behaviour of others lead me to doubt myself and feel like i must mold myself into what someone wants of me to have there approval. This mentality, kept me in an abusive marriage for 8 years, and what enslaved me to depression once out of that mess. How I healed- I turned that drive to be accepted inward- meaning- I fought just as hard to accept myself... so in my mind i began to do things that I felt would make ME accept me.. and one year really in 2007 after hitting one of teh worse times in my life, i finally began to accept, and like and unconditionally love me! how powerful, and exciting this new feeling is.. thinking someone else loves me and accepts me is good- but discovering how to love myself, and accept myself at wherever I am in life, whether, heavier than i would like to be, or smaller, or whatever flaws, I accept me with them and it's GREAT! Through that I created my business Big Sis & Company, I have a local cable TV talk show, conduct workshops, and am working in the field of helping women of domestic violence relationships....Thank you for letting me share...

I felt a bit like this too, although I don't think I ever put it into words. On Facebook, I made a 25 things list and one of them was that I was a cheerleader in high school and in a sorority in college but despite how that sounds I was never one of the cool kids. I wanted to be normal cool and liked, but I was drawn to the "weird" artsy type kids. Whenever I found myself in a group of either type of people, I was absolutely paralyzed and unable to connect. I was just never cool enough or weird enough.

I have also always been very different from my family. I once introduced myself to my niece's boyfriend by saying "Hi, I'm Leslee, the black sheep of the family." My mother quickly shot me down, but it's true...I'm sooo the black sheep. These days I seem to be connecting with a lot of those. I'm in a women's group now and at our first meeting we quickly learned that we are all fellow black sheep, always looking for our perfect place. There are a lot of us out there and this is a great place for us to find each other. Pretty perfect, I'd say.