I think I was in second grade when, for the first time, I told my mother I was going to sue her. During childhood, I was probably too furious to understand my parents, and I needed an eye-opening experience.
In 2015, my daughter Lia was born, and I wanted to be a good mother to her very much. I think I would've liked it very much, when it was very hard for me, for someone dear, maybe even my mother, to take me in their arms, and say: I love you!
I think I was in second grade when, for the first time, I told my mother I was going to sue her because she didn't have the money to send me to summer camps, like the other parents did. During the same period, I ran from home because I thought my parents were too poor, and I wanted to lead a life of luxury. At that time, I couldn't understand why my uncles in Chișinău had huge houses, pools, cars, and my parents had nothing. N
o one explained it to me, in a way fit for a child, why my best friend from childhood would get hoodies and new boots every year, and I had to wear the same old, second-hand clothes, and low-quality sneakers. No one could tell me what I should be like and I, due to all the circles I was in, was getting mixed messages. I thought that, if I remained true to myself, I would never be rich. I thought that being yourself was a weakness. Much later, I started finding out how I'm supposed to be. During childhood, I was probably too furious to understand my parents, and I needed an eye-opening experience.
I went to Africa in 2014. In 2014, at 28 years, I made my dream come true. I worked as a volunteer in Africa for two weeks. I taught English to children in a god-forsaken village, at the foot of Mount Kilimanjaro. There, I would see parents bring their kids to school and kindergarten every day, just so that they could have a warm meal. For the first time since I've been writing a diary of gratitude, while I was in Africa, I wrote one evening that I was grateful for my parents. That evening, I forgave myself in the camp of a lifetime, there, under the moonlight, I understood what a hard time my parents had had with me, and that in Moldova, a poor country in the post-Soviet era, it was an impossible mission for them to send me to camps. Actually, they struggled to provide food and the right education for me. Another difficult moment in my life was when I became a mother. In 2015, my daughter Lia was born, and I wanted to be a good mother to her very much. And I've been a good mother.
But there were moments, in which I would simply feel furious and overwhelmed by the situation. I felt I was just a mother. I felt I'd forgotten who I once was. So I started going to yoga courses. I started meditating, and I started remembering who I was or who I want to be. One evening, I went out with the girls to an event, and one of the hosts asked us: Do you remember your mothers being happy during your childhood? Only a few hands were raised. That evening, I promised to myself that I wanted to find out how to be happy, and I wanted my girl to remember that I was also happy. Another enlightening moment was at a course I attended, and the teacher asked: Who are you? I introduced myself, with my name, my surname, I said who I am, but teacher continued to ask me: Who are you? I discovered other positions, layers, and shells under which I was hiding, and I introduced myself again.
The teacher looked into my eyes, and asked me again: Right, who are you? In that moment, I felt who I really was. In that moment, my body was filled with peace, harmony, and equilibrium. In that moment, I looked deeply into my teachers' eyes, and said: I know who I am! I am love! That was the moment I felt how I should be, and I realized I am no longer furious. I realized that I feel peace and equilibrium inside of me. And I am not always on a pink cloud, as some might think. There are many moments in which it's very hard for me, and, when I feel I can't go on, I say: Stop! I inhale and exhale, as I learned during practice, I ask for help, I surround myself with gentle people, I vent, and I let every emotion come to me, even if it's less colorful or even very dark. Most of the time, I think I would've liked it very much, during my lifetime, when it was very hard for me, for someone dear, maybe even my mother, to take me in her arms, and say: I love you! I see you, I see you as you are, you don't have to prove anything to anyone. I'm here, with you.
You're going through something very difficult right now, but I assure you, it's going to be fine! Be patient! I love you! I learned how to be myself. Today, I'm a lawyer. I'm my mother's lawyer who was sued by her daughter. Today, I'm grateful for all the camps I've never been to. Because they've helped me be who I am today. In my life, I've traveled a lot. I've been to many beautiful camps, but the most beautiful camps I realized a lot later, were those of my grandparents, which my parents could afford to send me to. Now, I'm grateful for everything I am today, for everything I've been, and everything I will be. I know that every one of us has our own journey. We have a rhythm that helps us heal, and connect to ourselves. But what I learned, and what I know from my heart is that in everyone, and in every one of us, there's a child who needs warm embraces and love. Thank you!