As a girl just trying to tread the waters of unstable, sporadic, and infrequent motherly love, learning about myself as a feminine soul in a feminine body became a self-studied, learn-as-you-go crash course.

I remember though, my Mom doing my hair once with hot rollers. They were so heavy, like oh my goddess my head is going roll off my neck heavy. I remember it so well not just because of that, but because it was the first time, at ten years old, that I could feel the support of a mother.

As I leaned against her as she put the rollers in, I could feel her warm breath on my head and smell the soft rose essence of her lotion. It was the closest I had felt to her a decade into my life. The next time I would experience this would be 20 years later at my younger sister’s wedding, but this time around I was the one curling her hair.

This was a normality in our relationship, of us switching roles and me stepping into the role of mother for the both of us, many times quite literally. The weight and expectation of being a surrogate mother as a young girl is something I’m still moving through to this day.

It would shape my way of being as a woman, always hovering and protecting and sheltering those around me. Always giving of myself reaching unhealthy levels to receive love and acceptance. Patterns don’t unravel easy, and oh what a mess they make.

But within the unraveling comes an opportunity to create something new. A chance to know and embrace the essence of your soul, a chance to bring your vision of who and what you desire to be to life.