14/10/2025
Do you know, the first build-up of our wounds probably began when we were still coming from a place of innocence and love.
In my experience, it did.
I remember being put to bed in a room that had once been my sister’s.
I don’t remember how long it had been my room, or if that was even my first night there.
But I remember lying in that dark little room — lonely, scared, isolated from my brothers who all shared one together.
I remember the wind howling outside, the tree in the street swaying, and how the shadows grew larger on my walls until, in my mind’s eye, they consumed the tiny box room completely.
I was in absolute fear.
Not just scared — terrified out of my mind.
Every cell in my body must have been in fight or flight.
I came downstairs to tell my parents how scared I was, and I recall my dad sending me back to bed.
I’d get to the top of the stairs and shout down, “Dad, I love you — please can I come down?”
And all I’d hear was, “Go back to bed.”
I’d come down again — and get told off.
I remember writing little notes and posting them through the living room door, but they were read, and my fears felt ignored.
To my dad, I was just being sent back to bed.
But to me, I wasn’t being listened to.
Nobody cared.
Something was in my room coming to get me — and I wasn’t being heard.
Right there, that very night, umpteen wounds were created.
And every time I shouted down and wasn’t met with comfort, more wounds formed — feelings of abandonment, rejection, fear, unworthiness, and invisibility.
Each time, those emotions sank deeper, teaching me that my feelings didn’t matter, that love wasn’t always safe, and that my voice didn’t deserve to be heard.
As that episode became a constant pattern in my life — a cycle that repeated in different ways as I grew older — I learned to silence my voice.
To put up with fear.
To carry on, even when every part of me wanted to be seen, held, and heard.
I carried that wound for 40 years.
Let that sink in — 40 years.
It’s affected my life in so many ways.
And I don’t blame my parents.
I love them deeply.
I know I’ve created wounds within my own children through how I’ve raised them — because we’re all just here doing our best.
What’s right for one person isn’t right for another, and that truth holds no matter what the relationship or connection.
Now, I’ve started healing that wound — and many others — through deep, deep shadow work.
It’s uncomfortable, confronting, and raw… but it’s also where I’ve found the beginning of real peace.
Because healing doesn’t erase the past — it transforms your relationship with it.
And that changes everything.
Are you ready to face your shadows?
Walk the Empowered Path with Louise. 🌙
