[Writing from In Her Skin | the beloved session]

We are shedding old names and writing new ones on our bodies with our own hand.

I was taken away and had my identity changed. Two birth certificates.

I became estranged from the family whose name I bore, so I kept my married name after divorce rather than return to the name of my childhood.

My birth mother changed her name through marriage, and my birth father discovered his father wasn’t his birth father.

There were no names for me that meant anything.

Finding my writing voice has meant finding my spirit and finally knowing her name.

My name is freedom – wild horses on the plains and wild wolves on the tundra, running with my tribe, staying up through the night and sleeping till I wake, not when the alarm or the light tells me.

My name is wild – curls that can’t be tamed, rainbow clothes that will never conform to a grey office, bare feet and grass and outdoors.

My name is mermaid – the ocean, the river, the lake, the underwater, bare arms and legs, hair long, a body that can be weightless and held, a body that trusts.

My name is shadow – all that dwells there hidden coming to the light, glittering, making sound, taking up space and being known, belonging.

My name is broken – my wild is asking to step into the driver’s seat to create a life of authenticity and integrity, my broken is saying yes please and handing her the keys.

My name is rebellion – the rage and sadness of darker days saying here we are, we have so much to say and we will never be silenced again.

What is the name of your spirit?

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