Drive the stake through emotional vampires
I seemed to disappoint him. âHoney, your hair has no shape,â he would say, or âYou could bear to lose a few pounds. And, when I hadn’t eaten all day, the really mortifying “Oh, honey, your breath!”
I could improve my dental hygiene, but I was never going to turn into one of the tall, athletic women he preferred. I was petite with soft curves that were resistant to cropping hard edges. During our first interactions, I expected regret after sex to be a normal flaw, as well as discomfort that lasts for days. It wasn’t until later, through my evolution as a woman, that I realized that this uncomfortable feeling in my guts meant that I had sold myself. Like muscle memory, it was activated over and over again, until I learned how to guard against it. But at the time, I was putty in his hands.
Out of curiosity or perhaps boredom, I had looked for him on a recent trip I took to attend a wedding. In the past 10 years since we last met, he had been going through a difficult divorce, and what started as a catch-up lunch turned into another series of dates. As an adult female I was much less of a puppy and wondered how I would get along with him. Could I dance near this old flame without getting burned? The short answer was no. The vacation adventure had another awkward end and I kept ruminating on it. Once again, I would let him have too much power over me and I would be remiss for it. Vampire or not, I wanted to free myself once and for all from this negative dynamic.
âReally see it and feel its energy, before you say goodbye,â the shaman said.
I did my part and brought it up, as stated.
âHold on to the thick rope that binds you both. Now imagine taking a heavy sword and slicing it and sending it back with love, âshe directed. âThen take the part you have left and rub it in your stomach, so as not to create psychic wounds. “
I cut the imaginary cord and sent it on its way. With love.
When it was over, I felt elated.