When we commit to healing our trauma, our mind may rebel. Why? Because we're not just healing our wounds. We're challenging the entire survival system we've spent years building around them. We learned to please everyone to avoid rejection, control everything to avoid disappointment, and build walls to avoid getting hurt. Then we decide to change, and our brain hits the panic button. "EXCUSE ME! We've been surviving this way for 30 years. Who authorized this nonsense?" 😂 Our mind isn't necessarily our enemy. It's an overprotective bodyguard who hasn't realized we're no longer living in the same war zone. So when healing feels uncomfortable, remember: not every resistance is a sign to stop. Sometimes, it's an old survival strategy struggling to accept that we have other options now. We're not broken. We're outgrowing the version of ourselves that had to be. And our inner bodyguard? Bless its heart. It's time for a performance review. 😂💜

Doing the father wound/masculine wound meditation, I envisioned my dad at the end of the bridge waiting for me. As we did the Ho'oponopono statements I envisioned my father saying those words and I was overcome with strong emotions. Thoughts of inadequacies began but I instead focused on feeling empathy for him and his own struggles with being a father. As we continued the meditation, I felt myself soften and asked my dad if I could hold his hand. The connection of us holding hands made me feel like a sense of compassion and helped me to see what he is going through. Once the meditation was completed, I began to reflect a bit further on moments where healthy masculinity has shown up for me. As a child my father was unpredictable and emotionally loud which caused my nervous system to keep my walls up. To almost this day feelings of strong skepticisms came up and a sense of having men to prove to me/work for my trust was placed upon them. Chat Aaronbot says that I have normalized unavailable men so much that when a healthy one does show up, I immediately feel unfamiliar with it. My goal is to let myself receive more masculine care, without feeling so guarded before my mind can fully trust.

I have to start off by saying that after I did the Day 8 meditation for the Divine Mother, so many old memories and names resurfaced that I really started to feel the pull of the strong human desire to resume old patterns, habits, beliefs, stories, and so on. In this point of the challenge, I am really feeling the tug of war between old and new. I am not sure how well I am managing that tension. All I am doing so far is acknowledging everything that is coming up within, being curious about it and trying to minimize my resistance to it, which is temporarily pulling me through old habits. For me, it’s feeling the like the journey is transitioning from taking notes, journaling, going within, understanding, and the feedback loop of it all, to primarily being drawn inward (withdrawing so to say) and being faced this “battleground” to wade through tension and continue reaffirming a new magnetic version self (again, I’m not sure how well it’s going!). Aaron AI is helping me here when it says I can tell myself, “Ah, of course this part of me wants to go back. That’s what it knows.” Also acknowledging, “Is this little me? Is this the hyperindepdent, invisible one who feels unsafe and doesn’t want to be seen or exposed?” And then, “This discomfort is evidence that I’m becoming someone new. The tension between old and new is actually leverage which I can choose to use to catapult me into the new.” AI says that when the pull to the old is strong, ambiguity is its friend, and rather than be reactive and resistant, I can breathe, be grounded, be responsive, ask for help from the guides, and then choose small, specific ways to build up the new version of me. So what became of the Divine Mother? There were several childhood memories that have been impacting my sexuality for a long time. These are memories that I have never been able to feel safe telling anyone and yet have basically haunted me over the years by once in a while affirming old core beliefs. They distorted my understanding of how love actually manifests or feels between people. I would have grand difficulty with accepting compliments while at the same time yearning for validation as a ray of hope to disprove old beliefs. I would feel confused when receiving Christmas gifts; I would see the gifts as ceremonial obligations and politeness but not accept any possibility of loving intention behind those gifts. I would reject the version of love my mother showed me. This meditation left me looking into the past the entire rest of the day, connecting dots between key memories, and then redefining associated stories and beliefs based on the work I’d done with the inner child on Day 7. The big takeaway I got was to be more trusting of the universe and permit myself to be fully receptive to the universe’s blessings.

My bridge in the meditation was a simple wooden bridge, about 30 feet long, but it was very solid and sturdy. It wasn't anything special, it was just a wooden bridge, but i felt safe and I felt supported. Those two things stood out to me. The masculine energy message for me reminded me of Mufasa from The Lion King: “Remember who you are.” And when I connected with my inner child and asked if he had anything to tell me, his message was simple: “Remember to have fun.” He showed me memories of running around the yard, climbing trees, playing Power Rangers and X-Men with my friends, and doing cartwheels off the stone wall. I also started remembering my college years and how much fun I used to have. It wasn't about partying or doing anything crazy. It was just enjoying life, spending time with friends, and having fun in the moment. Even after the meditation, as I was talking about my experience, more memories kept coming back. I started remembering that fun, carefree version of myself and wondering when I became so serious. Something else I realized afterward was that my inner child wasn't telling me to lose weight, get my finances together, or fix all the other things I worry about as an adult. Those things are important, and I still need to work on them, but they're already big enough without me making them even bigger in my mind. I don't need to let those responsibilities take over my life or keep me from enjoying it. And now, thinking about the two messages together, I feel like they're telling me something important. I don't need to become somebody new, and I don't necessarily need to go back to who I used to be. I need to reconnect with the roots of who I am. I think I've spent so much time worrying about what I need to change or improve that I've forgotten some of the things that made me happy in the first place. My biggest takeaway is that I need to ground myself in who I am, remember to have fun, and take life a little less seriously. I can still work on improving myself and taking care of my responsibilities without forgetting to enjoy my life along the way.

I relaxed so much during this meditation that I fell asleep the first time, haha! The second time, as I entered the forest, I felt very peaceful. As I approached the bridge, I saw it was wooden, yet sturdy. However, I heard a voice say, 'Be careful; if you cross it, you might fall.' At the edge of the bridge, I initially saw my grandfather (who symbolizes the positive aspect of masculine energy) and shortly after, my dad (who symbolizes the negative aspect of masculine energy). The message from my grandfather was, 'YOU ARE ALREADY DOING IT!' My dad told me that he was sorry for everything I am going through because of him. When my inner child came next to me, she told me she didn't want to walk onto the bridge because the one who hurt her (my dad) was on the other side. Nevertheless, we walked across it together. The masculine figure who sent me energy was God; but before that, he turned the bridge into concrete and told me I could trust Him. While I was receiving the energy, I felt safe and reassured that I could trust Him without fear. After the meditation ended, I felt a deep peace, carrying an inner sense of security and faith that someone has my back, even in hard times.