Growing wings

Once upon a time, there was a light, joyful and careless five-year old, whose mother – a free, bubbly and romantic fireworks display of a soul – had taught her to hum classical opera arias. She was happily giggling at the magnificent wonders that the Universe surrounded her with, and she had not a worry in the world.

One warm evening in early September, sitting around the kitchen table with the family, she watched as a moth had flown in through the small window, to which she spontaneously reacted with an enthusiastic interpretation of the resounding “Non più andrai” from Mozart’s “Marriage of Figaro”.

The lyrics, in Romanian, loosely translated to “You’re no longer the butterfly in the Sun / Fluttering from flower to flower / Butterfly, you no longer have wings / The Count has chopped them off”. Little did she know that these same lyrics were the premonition of an emotional exodus of over two decades, through which she struggled to grow her wings back.

Annoyed and despaired upon hearing her chant, her paternal grandfather harshly told her off “Stop that, you are like a Devil”. Those words shattered her, although, for far too long, she could not fathom how severely they haunted her, like an open wound, each time the carefree Inner Child wanted to come out and play, each time the beautiful Wild Woman wanted to come out and love.

For as long as I can remember, I have carried within me, like a swirling yin and yang, both my light and my darkness. You may recall that my reconciliation with the Devil began several years ago. A few months back, a Tarot reading revealed to me that I was mistaking my Divine Feminine self, the Wife and Mother archetype, the Venus within me – for the Devil.

By a wonderful stroke of heavenly guidance, the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, and I relived every instance in which I was told or made feel – by teachers, colleagues or the men in my life – that I was “too much”. That I laughed too hard, that I was too noisy, that I was too enthusiastic, that I was too foolishly happy. Each of those times, I thought I needed to tone myself down, to quiet myself, to tell myself off, to dim my light, as not to make anyone uncomfortable.

I lived under the impression that I had built walls not to let people in, but instead, I had built a dam, not to let myself overflow. And it all boiled down to that one warm evening in early September, 25 years ago, when I was led to believe that me being my true, untamed, joyous and optimistic self was the worst transgression that I could possibly be capable of.

A couple of months back, lying in bed, my brave and daring Inner Child started singing the lyrics to the “Non più andrai” aria out loud, for the first time in 25 years. “Butterfly, you no longer have wings / The Count has chopped them off…” I was only 5 years old, when my song prophesized a life story. As those words echoed in my mind, tears started falling, for I understood that, all along, I had been the butterfly, the wings of whom were chopped off by spiteful words uttered by a broken man.

While my inner light began to shine – fearless, unhindered, untamed – it suddenly dawned on me that my grandfather’s wings may had equally been chopped by some Count of his own, and the reason why he shut me off was that my song reminded him of his own wounds, and the pain was too strong to bear. So he did the only thing he could think of to defend himself – strike right back.

Last year, I met a man to whom I declared that he was my favourite person of 2019 and that surely, he would remain my favourite person in 2020. He replied, “We’ll see about that”, which I found extremely hurtful at the time. Turns out, that was another prophecy. Over the past 2 months, undergoing numerous personal transformations and upgrades, I have come to realise that I am my favourite person this year, which is a relationship I look forward to continuing nourishing for all the years to come.

A butterfly flew into my house yesterday. His beautiful black-orange wings fluttered around, as he was looking for the way back out. As I helped him reach back to the window, I felt light and free. Last night, a man I cherish deeply (who happens to share a birthday with my paternal grandfather) told me that I most certainly come from Venus, for I am beautiful and feminine. With that, I knew that my wings had grown back and I had set myself free, right on time for Lionsgate.

Looking back to this whirlwind of emotions that has been my reconciliation with my Inner Child and, consequently, with my Divine Feminine nature, that had been cornered and unjustly blamed for struggle and sorrow within and without me, I hope and pray that, wherever he may be, my grandfather may rest in peace and love, while I live in peace and love.

Love,
Vladiana

Published by curvybuddha

Exploring spirituality with the same curiosity and love of humankind that drove me to become an anthropologist, I started CurvyBuddha on the 1st of January 2019, as a project of self-discovery. Peppered with personal reflections, pop culture references, a sprinkle of naughtiness, mystical intel and tarot analogies, my journey has become one of self-love. I am happy to share my findings with you, in hope they will help you on your own path, fellow friend.

3 thoughts on “Growing wings

    1. Thank you so much for sharing, sending healing vibes your way and hoping that you smoothly and safely navigate the deep waters of your childhood experiences. If you ever need to talk about it, please don’t hesitate to reach out!

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m glad I have a platform to share. During this crisis I think it’s important for others to know that there are people who may feel as they do. I’m feeling better and much stronger. Thanks for the offer. I just might take you up on it. Thanks for reading and have a great day!

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