Ego bust

First things first, as they say in Alcoholics Anonymous. It's time for a spot of honesty.

I love writing. I love words, and I love putting words together into sentences, paragraphs, or even as standalone monuments to the power of sound.

Butterfly.
Superglue.
Frangipani.

And yet, I do not live free. Like everyone else on the planet, I have an ego, and much like everyone else's (from what I've seen), my ego tells me outright lies and spins them as webs of truth. And I listen. I listen until I remember to laugh, usually until I am so much discomfort that I can't carry on. A few years ago, that discomfort was utterly debilitating. It was so intense that I had to do something, anything, to change how I was feeling. Nowadays, my life looks very different. I've come a long way. I'm proud of myself, and I still end up like a pretzel, tied up in knots around myself, completely confused and quite often "offended" (just ask Nige, poor guy).

My ego has been telling me that my blog is wrong. I don't write beautifully. I go on too long. I am failing. I am a burden.

These are the things I have believed about myself for my whole life, and they are not true! I know they're not true, and I have not just a shed but a busload of evidence that says otherwise. And yet the lies they keep on coming, more ghostly perhaps than they used to be, but just as haunting as ever.

Listening to these thoughts has prevented me from writing about a really important ceremony which is coming up in my life. I am therefore going to publish this now, and write a separate post which I will publish tomorrow. I am going to write what is in my heart. I give myself permission. This is what I am doing right now, and it feels good. It feels.... free! And I may write it a hundred, a thousand times over. Every time I choose love over fear, I will celebrate, because that singular choice is the most important one I will ever make, and indeed, A Course in Miracles says, the only real choice that ever exists.

There is no order of difficulty in miracles.
No one can fail who seeks to reach the truth.


These words are a comfort to my soul. When I read them, or think of them, it's like every part of my body exhales, every cell relaxes, and I rest a moment, completely at peace. I know I have heard God speak to me, and His word is always, always Love.

Thank you and goodnight x

Father and Son

Tonight my heart was wrenched open. I found myself unable to hold it together as I sat on my floor with my laptop on the bed, reading one of the most moving and beautiful posts I've ever read. Tears streamed out of me and my chest and throat did that sore, hurty thing that they do when I'm really upset.

Reading this post was probably the best and most heartfelt part of my day. Reading it helped me land in myself again and feel fully human.

Please, give yourself a few minutes, and read this blog:

Father and Son blog by Nige

I have nothing more to say other than that this blog post is dedicated to Jim and Nigel Atkinson.

Love,
Elloa xx

A letter for Little Elloa - In My Daughter's Eyes project

Dear Little Elloa,

You are twelve years old and you think there is something awfully wrong with you. You hate your smile, your body, and you wish you were like Poppy. You feel so unhappy and you carry so much shame. It is so scary for you to go home after school, not knowing what you'll find when you walk in the door - Mama Jekyll or Monster Hyde. You desperately want to be liked by your classmates, and you carry so many secrets and guilt and fear. You feel so alone.

I want you to know that you are not alone. In all of those moments when you feel so lost, misunderstood, and lonely, I want you to know that I am there with you, and that my love for you is so deep and wide and unchanging, and that nothing can threaten it. Each experience you are going through now will become part of the beautiful tapestry of your life, and one day you will grow up to become a gentle, loving, creative woman who dances and is in love and travels the world and knows God.

I want you to know that I see you. You are not invisible. You are not second best. You are beautiful, precious, seen, innocent, and utterly lovable. It is so hard for you to see right now, but everything you're going through is happening for a reason and one day you will see it differently.


You are beautiful, little Elloa. So much of the pain you carry doesn't belong to you, and yet for some reason it is with you right now. I want you to know that one day you will be free of it. You will have the opportunity to give it back to the people whose pain it is, to see the magnitude of the generational pain and to be a healer. You will come to understand your life from a place of Love, and you will not regret the things that feel so hurtful and so shameful right now.


You will have the opportunity to be angry, to scream the place down, to thump your fists on the ground and crumble in a heap in His arms. And it is completely okay. It's all completely and utterly okay. You will remember the Truth, and you will come to understand that all these things you believe about yourself are simply not true.

There is simply no truth in your greatest fears about who you are. The truth waits, undamaged and unchanged, for you to turn inward and accept it. A quiet, assured voice whispers gently to you, through the things you love, reminding you of who you really are, and watching over you when you forget. This is why you are safe, little Elloa. This is why I can promise you that everything will be okay. Some days the pain will be unbearable, and some days you will believe that you truly hate who you are. You will not understand how you came to be where you are, but you will find hope, and then you will nourish the hope you have found.


The things in your life that you love, too, little Elloa, are so important! Take joy in them, and let them comfort you. It is safe for you to be who you are and to like what you like. Sing your Take That songs at the top of your lungs! The world needs to hear the joy that they bring to you. There are people in the world who will delight in sharing all this with you one day - friends, sisters, even a beautiful man! You don't need to pretend to be somebody you're not, and it's okay to experiment, too. Read your books, write your diaries, audition for plays and sing your heart out. You can sing you know, Elloa. Your voice is lovely and you sing with sincerity and heart.

And your smile... your smile was given you to share with the world. It doesn't look like anyone else's smile, and that's exactly the point. God wasn't mistaken when He created you, little Elloa. You're not supposed to look like Kristy, or Oonagh, or Poppy, or any of those girls. You're supposed to look like you. You really do shine, and you really are beautiful, and you really are enough. These tiny, faint whispers you hear are telling you the truth. I know that you will have an ongoing life lesson around women, and that that is part of the reason you're here, but if I can say anything to you, it would be this:

Please, little Elloa, when you look in the mirror,

Say "I am beautiful and lovely and free to be me,

Just the way I am."

However hard it might become in the next weeks and months and years... when the sadness you feel engulfs you like a tidal wave... when the only outlet for your pain is in pain itself... when all feels lost... I will be there, a step ahead and right beside you, within and all around, gently guiding you towards the truth, gently showing you the beauty that is yours, gently loving you when you cannot love yourself.

So follow your heart, and turn to God, and as much as you can Elloa, trust yourself and learn the lesson that nobody can give you your worth. It is yours already. It is yours to claim.

I love you now and forever.

Love,

Elloa xx

I wrote this to myself one morning after an awkward conversation with Nige on the phone. Nothing actually happened, but my phone kept cutting out, and for those minutes while we conversed, I just felt.. wrong somehow. I was ill at ease, and I suspected there was something wrong with me, that I'd said the wrong thing, in the wrong tone of voice, and that things were somehow not okay anymore.

I logged on and read Holly Renee's blog, discovering In My Daughter's Eyes, a project with which I strongly resonate. I knew that my 12 year old self badly wanted to have a letter be written to her. I wrote, and I cried. I saw myself, in 1995, shy and scared... and innocent.

And now? And now I can see again, and I remember that I'm safe, I'm loved, and that I am whole and complete.

If you are a woman, or if there is a woman in your life who is so lovely but who perhaps doesn't quite see herself the way you see her... point her in the direction of Pink Moss. Or, just write your 12 year-old self a letter. You never know, there may be something that she really needs to hear that only you can say to her.