During my last session, my therapist asked me to describe my mother.

I said, old, frail and less independent than she used to be.

She then asked, “How do I feel when I think about my mother?”

“Sad and disappointed.”

She then asked me, “What does she look like to you now? How would you describe what she looked like?”

I started to imagine what mother looks like.

As hard as I tried to put together what she looked like in my mind, her image would just be blurry. I could tell the image in my mind was a woman, a petite woman, but I couldn’t see a clear picture of her.

I know what she looks like now, I just saw her, and I can point her out in a picture, but for the life of me, I just couldn’t clearly picture her in my mind.

As I forced myself to make the image clearer in my mind, my mom became younger and meaner. I could only see my mom as the mom I saw when I was growing up, it was literally impossible to see a clear picture of my mother in her current form.

She then asked me, “What do you think your mother sees when she looks at you or how would your mother describe you now?”

I instantly viewed myself as the little girl I once was long ago.

My therapist asked me, how did I feel thinking about this version of my mother.

I said, “Angry and resentful.”

My therapist then explained to me how I was still living in the past, and how I am not allowing myself to see my mother for who she is now, nor am I allowing myself to be the woman I am today.

She mentioned that I should work on letting go of the past.

I started to cry and explained how the thought of letting go of the past makes me feel as though I am betraying my younger self.

No one listened to my younger self when I was growing up and no one really acknowledged nor validated all that I went through as kid. My parents brushed it under the rug and tried to pretend like we all moved past it and I really didn’t talk about it with anyone.

I feel that by letting go of the past, I am also brushing my younger self and all the trauma that she endured under the rug and just moving on with life, as though all is well.

My therapist then gently reminded me that I am no longer that little girl. That she has grown up and is now a grown woman, who is no longer under the threat of being abused any longer.

She is older, wiser, stronger and with all the resources she needs to feel safe and protected.

These things are all true, but it was still difficult for me to accept the idea that I should let go of my past. I’m not sure that I am ready for that.

All these years, I have tucked my trauma and my younger self away deep in the darkness, hoping it would all just go away.

That makes me so sad to acknowledge even now. That I was also a betrayer to my younger self.

My therapist asked, what did I think I could do to let go of the past but still honor my younger self. I was at a loss for ideas, as I was still wallowing in self-pity.

She suggested I should try art.

That idea made me feel a bit better. Not just writing this blog, but also making other types of art. When I think about my past and my younger self, so many different images flash through my mind.

It is difficult for me to put into words how I feel, but it is easier for me to picture how I feel or have felt. So, maybe if I copied those images onto paper or a canvas, then maybe I can release those feelings.

If I can put on canvas images of my younger self and how I used to feel, then maybe that would be a way for me to release those images, feelings and trauma.

Most importantly, I would be releasing, but not forgetting about, my younger self.

Just because I released that part of my past, still the art would remain. Therefore, it would not be the same as tucking it back in the closet and hiding it in darkness. Instead, I would put it out for all to see.

Letting go but still honoring my younger self by finally giving her the acknowledgement and validation she deserved all those years ago.