Missing

That word holds so much for me lately. I have always been the "mother," but only in the last five years have I actually been so. Before it was I who took care of transient friends and boyfriends, who all too often, needed a mother more than partner.

Somehow in the process of transitioning into the real deal, I lost a little of myself along the way. A part of myself that before then had been a big part of my life. I lost my way spiritually as my friends started to move on. My spirituality was such a huge part of my life. For several years, it often seemed to define who I was, as I was actively involved in a grassroots national organization with the sole purpose of bringing about education to those who misunderstood earth-cenetered religions.

I am not Christian. I have never claimed to be so and have had an aversion to organizd religion in any form since my childhood. I don't know if it was exposure to Holy Rollers as a child ... or having my Mormon cousin come spend the summers with my family only to make a beeline to the refrigerator for her annual consumption of enough sweet iced-tea to make up for an entire year. It was most likely the "I'm right and everyone else is wrong" attitude that it seemed most "religious" people I knew had. I don't like the concept of original sin.

I was always searching and never really knew where to fit in. I was drawn to nature and I could feel a divine spark in everything. In my mid-twenties, I happened across a book that would change me forever. It was a book about the craft, about paganism, and I devoured it. So many of things in this book called to me and fell in line with the things that I believed but had never said outloud. It was that one single book that started my journey and led to some of the most amazing friendships that I have ever had.

When my significant other and I first started dating, I was still active in the pagan community. But somewhere along the way, that activity waned as life got busy in other areas. It didn't help that his mother is avidly reborn and was often distrustful of anyone caring for his boys as well as she had done. She looked for faults in everything and I just wasn't looking for any battles in my newly formed family. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel safe being me and being vocal about my beliefs. At that time, a part of me slowly faded into the back of my mind and stayed there ... safe from judgement.

As fulfilling as my life is, I'm not entirely present in it because I haven't pursued my spiritual practices. I haven't been in tune with nature or myself. I've decided to dip my toe back into the community that I have missed so much. I can no longer deny the part of myself that has been slumbering and refuse to any longer. I know I will have my battles to wage and that people will decide that I am "going to hell." They will no longer see the person that I am, see me as kind and good, but will see me as something else. They won't see that I am the same person that they have always known. But I'm ready for it. I can no longer deny a part of who I am to make others feel more comfortable in my own home ... my life.