Loving Ourselves Fully is the Most Precious Gift we can Give to the World

Heather Williams

When I was a little girl I remember feeling like I had to know everything.  Figuring things out on my own gave me a sense of self worth. I felt like I couldn’t trust what other people were telling me, so I constantly questioned authority. When I solved problems and did things on my own, I felt smart, proud of myself, and in control. Looking back, I realize that this was my way to control my environment so I could feel a sense of safety. When we are born, we come into this world as feeling beings, often receiving our sense of security and comfort from our mothers. For the first 13 years of my life, the sense of security I received from my mother was very unpredictable.  She often used alcohol to escape reality. My mother loved her family very much but she had a hard time loving and respecting herself.  When she couldn’t handle her emotions she would mentally and emotionally check out. Because of this, I rarely felt like life was safe or predictable. I felt at the mercy of the world around me; constantly feeling like I needed to be extra smart, responsible, and loving so that my mom would stay checked in and I would somehow keep her happy.  I constantly felt like I needed to protect my mom from whatever ridicule she perceived she was receiving from the world around her. I also felt vulnerable myself, because I was able to feel her pain. I loved her so much and just wanted her to be happy.  At times, I couldn’t understand why I felt so much pain and sadness when all I wanted to do was love, have fun, and laugh.    

A few years ago, after my mother passed away, I realized that the reason I was feeling all these emotions is because I am incredibly empathic. While she was alive I was too wrapped up in my codependency to realize this. I had been trying to control the outside world so that I didn’t feel everyone else’s negative emotions, because originally I thought they were all mine. I couldn’t understand why I so badly wanted everyone around me to be joyous. As a child I just wanted to be carefree and feel secure. My mother, whom I love dearly, was experiencing extreme sadness, guilt and regret for whatever she thought she had done wrong or missed out on in life. Growing up, my mother often told me how she gave up on all her life dreams when she became a mom. She was also obsessed with watching the news and was in a constant state of fear about what she thought was happening all around her. The grass always seemed greener somewhere else. She spent her life thinking of all the things she didn’t have, all the things she wasn’t, and how life might be better if she had more money, if others accepted her, or if people paid more attention to her. She was constantly trying to fill an inside void that seemed to never be able to be filled up.

There was another side to my mother. She was also a sweet, funny and caring woman, who went to church, believed in God, told the truth, and who said hi to and talked to everyone, even the Jehovah’s Witnesses, who used to visit our house. She didn’t want to be rude and pretend we weren’t home. It was so funny and quite endearing. She was the mother of five children who all loved her dearly, and yet she was never satisfied because of that void she couldn’t seem to fill in her own heart.

Going back to my mother’s childhood seemed to shed some light on why she felt such fear and disconnection with herself. My mom was hit by a car when she was eight years old and almost died. She often talked about the incredible fear and anxiety that her mother experienced during that time. My grandmother became very overprotective of her after that, always giving her the impression that she was not capable of taking care of herself. My grandmother was a very opinionated and controlling woman, who continuously made my mother feel as if she never measured up. My grandmother loved my mother, but I believe my grandmother felt like she had to always take control over the situation, especially because of her experience of almost losing my mom at a very young age. My mother, in turn, took on the roll of a helpless being. My mother often felt this incredible sense of fear, as if she had no control over her outer world. She was constantly in a state of anxiety and was overwhelmed about life. My mother had poor communication skills in letting others know what she really needed. She never asked for help, as if she didn’t deserve to get it. She would wait until she was overwhelmed; then she would drink too much and then Pow! It was like a volcano erupted and it would all come out of nowhere. She would hold her emotions in for so long that when they came out, it was like an explosion.

My grandmother rarely helped my mother with her five children, and I know my mom resented it. In my eyes, my grandmother seemed very strong, domineering, and quite selfish. In contrast, my mother appeared very vulnerable and weak, but also caring and loving. Growing up, all I wanted to do was protect my mom from ridicule and from my grandmother’s harsh words. I wanted so badly to let her know she mattered and that she was loved. I told her all the time to value herself, because it seemed as if she could not figure out how to do that. I could feel her emptiness inside and thought she was the only person feeling it, but she wasn’t. You see, I was extremely rebellious as a child, not wanting anyone to talk down to me like my grandmother had to my mother. I never wanted to be vulnerable like my mom, but I was all of those things that I so desperately didn’t want to be. All the things that I wanted to protect my mother from, I became—fearful, vulnerable, and with a lack of love for myself. I loved those around me so much, but I forgot to love myself. Everything I was trying to save my mother from was my stuff as well.

My mother consistently told us that she loved us and that she was so proud of us. I almost lost my mom to alcoholism when I was 13. I didn’t realize at the time how significantly that would affect the rest of my life. I watched her throw up blood for three days before she finally let my father take her to the hospital. She knew as soon as she did this that she would have to stop drinking. She had to hit rock bottom before she got help. She went to rehab for 30 days and something shifted within her, because we were incredibly blessed to have her sober for the next 15 years. When my mom went into rehab, it was like God gave us a second chance. During this time, when we almost lost my mom, I remember thinking that we would be better off without her, because of all the pain. Up to that point I had not known her sober. I felt so incredibly guilty when she came out of rehab, because she was the mom I had always wanted. She was like a cute little angel that gave the best hugs and often made all of us laugh with all her silliness. She baked cookies all the time and couldn’t wait to go to church on Sundays. After church she would take us to the local bakery to get treats for the family. She would light up like a Christmas tree every time she saw one of her children, especially if we had been away for a while. All I wanted to do was spend time with her and reclaim those childhood years. We had a great relationship throughout college and into my adult years, until the dreadful day she started drinking again.

It was like the bottom had dropped out of my world. Within a few years she lost her only sister to colon cancer, her only two aunts passed away, September 11th happened, I became pregnant with my first son, and she divorced my father. She began a seven-year downward spiral with drinking, which ended up taking her life in 2008. The last seven years of her life were a nightmare for me because of the unpredictability and the feeling of helplessness I experienced constantly. During that time, I never knew which side of my mother I would encounter. She was like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. You see, when my mom drank she was a very angry and mean person. She suppressed all of her negative emotions when she was sober, because she felt it wasn’t right to express all of who she was. But when she drank, everything she had suppressed all came out like venom. I would feel her emotions as if they were my own, so I did whatever I could to keep her happy. I often wouldn’t speak the truth about the situation, because I didn’t want to lose her again. When she was sober and in good health, I felt invincible, like I could accomplish anything. But the minute she started drinking, the fear of losing her was so overwhelming that I couldn’t live my own life. I had completely intertwined my life with hers and she would often say to me, “You have to live your own life.” She was right but I couldn’t see through all the pain and fear. I was too wrapped up in believing that I had the ability to control her situation. When my mom was happy, I was happy. When she was sad, depressed, angry or resentful, so was I; or I was attempting to make her happy again to relieve my pain.

I realize now that I wanted to control my mom’s emotions because I wanted to be happy. I was in a precarious place between rebelling against my mother’s weakness and embracing her divinity, in between resenting my grandmother for her judgment and embracing my grandmother’s strong-willed rebellious nature. You see, I was both. I didn’t realize that I was at the mercy of those around me because I didn’t know who I was. I was too busy rebelling against who I didn’t want to be. My mother didn’t value herself. She would pour all of her love into each of us. Which is what I did, putting all my love into other people, especially my mom. My siblings and I loved her so much, and some of us ended up caring much more for others and not enough for ourselves.

After my mother died, I thought I was going to die. I had wrapped myself up so much with her identity that I didn’t know how to be in my own skin when she left. I spent so many years trying to save her that I almost lost myself. I felt like I had failed. It was like she took my connection to God and the divine with her. When my mom was alive, there were many times when I felt so grateful and so close to God, especially when my mom was happy. My mom loved to sing beautiful songs when we were in church. I often think of my connection to God when I hear those songs. What I have come to realize is that the love I felt for my mother reminded me of the divine within myself. This divinity has always been there but I didn’t realize I could access it myself. My mother never focused on herself, so I didn’t know how to focus on myself. I would only focus on other people’s thoughts, emotions and needs, and would always feel as if the well inside of me was drying up. I didn’t know how to replenish myself. After my mom died my well was dry and I felt like I had nothing more to give.

During the last years of my mother’s life, I was a single mother. I did everything I could to fill the well, so that I could be the best mother possible. My son has been my greatest teacher and is one of the biggest reasons I made it through all of this. He would often say things so profound that it would shake me to my core. It was like he came here to wake me up. My love for him was the catalyst to find a way to replenish myself. Now I realize the best thing I can do for my child is to be the magnificent person I came here to be and set an example for him.

Over the last three years I have come to realize that the beauty in my mother is the same beauty that lies within me. I have been able to get quiet and to start loving myself from the inside out, filling myself up with caring thoughts, and figuring out all the beliefs that I have taken on that were never mine to begin with. When I was really little I believed anything was possible and often dreamt of all the things I would be when I grew up. Over the years, these dreams began dying because I intertwined my worth with other people.

I realize now that my worth is based solely on my individual connection to the divine. I realize that I can be anything I want to be, no matter how others think or feel. I realize that being empathic is a gift that I have been given in order to help and understand others, as long as I know what is mine and what is theirs. I realize that sometimes when I am being the bright light I came here to be, I might make other people feel uncomfortable because it reminds them that they are not being all of who they are meant to be. I realize by living my true authentic, unstoppable self, I give other people permission to do the same. I realize that my beautiful mother came here to teach me all of these things and that I would not love as deeply as I do, had she not been here. During my life I resented my grandmother for treating my mother the way she did, but I also admired my grandmother’s strength as a woman. I realize now that I am grateful to both my mother and my grandmother for reminding me of who I am. My grandmother reminded me of how strong and elegant I am as a woman, and my mother reminded me of how beautiful, vulnerable and divine I am as a woman. How lucky am I to have had two such drastically different points of view. I realized that when I stopped fighting what I thought was wrong and started embracing all of who I am, life started changing. When I started letting go of my judgments and loving myself for all of who I am and am not, things became lighter and lighter. The light inside of me started to shine brighter and brighter.

Being in the space of lightness can sometimes attract dark or heavy energy. This would often throw me off, because I thought “What am I doing to attract this?” Then I heard Neale Donald Walsch say something so profound, and this is what stuck with me: It is when you stay illuminated in spite of the darkness that things begin to transform. When you shine a light in a dark space, it can no longer stay dark unless you extinguish your own light. If you keep your light lit, no matter what, magic happens. I realized that no one or no thing defines who I am. I define who I am. I am divine, just like every other beautiful being out there who may or may not know it yet. The life that I want is right here and is just waiting for me to live it fully. When we stop fighting what we think is wrong and we look at things from a different vantage point, we get more clarity. Everything is put into perspective. I learned that emotions are just emotions; and the more I categorize them as right or wrong, the more I lock them in my body. When we are kids we usually don’t hold grudges; we just feel emotions and let them leave. As we get older, the more we judge our emotions the more we lock them into our bodies, because we make them significant. It is time to explore who we are, learn to embrace everything, and then the things we want to let go of can leave us more freely. When we deny, judge or constrict our feelings, beliefs and emotions, they have power over us and we cannot let them go. What you resist persists and what you embrace can be set free. I embrace my mother for all of who she was and wasn’t; I embrace my grandmother for all of who she was and wasn’t; and I embrace myself for all of who I am, am not, and who I am constantly becoming. You see, life is ever-changing and ever-expansive. We all have the ability to live the life of our dreams, but first we must embrace the life we have in order to move forward. Life can be magic if you embrace it with love.

            -- Thank you Dad for your humor, love, and confidence in me, I am forever grateful.

(About the author)

After attending college at Arizona State University, Heather Williams collaborated in the development and expansion of one of the most successful comedy clubs in the nation, The Tempe Improv, located in Tempe, Arizona. Heather started her career in entertainment at The Improv in 1996 and continued through to 2008. Her absolute love of comedy and spreading the gift of laughter had her move quickly up the ranks to become floor manager and public relations manager within a period of two years. Heather’s years at The Improv were truly some of the most magical years in her life, but she knew there was more to come. She resigned in 2008, shortly after the loss of her mother.

During this life-changing event, Heather realized she needed to get more involved on a global scale and find ways to combine the message of laughter and healing. She spent a short time working for a national publicity firm and then went on to collaborate on the Happy Givemore project that brought together her dream of combining the message of laughter, healing and giving. This was accomplished through a series of events, including comedy shows, golf tournaments and celebrity appearances created to benefit local charities.

After the decline in the financial market, Heather realized she needed to work on the infrastructure of a plan to transform the world through laughter, connection, and health education. Her current projects include the Dream Life Cafe (bringing transformative education to the masses), Laugh More Media (promoting people who are enlightening the world), The Laugh More Project (celebrating the healing properties of laughter and giving back to the world, one laugh at a time) and the Comedy and Consciousness Conferences (events that ignite, inspire and connect). Heather is a certified Advanced Theta Practitioner, a certified Access Consciousness Bars facilitator, a certified Touch for Health Kinesiology practitioner, and a Conscious living and Whole Body Wellness coach. She is the mother to an inspiring and wise 14-year-old young man, who has been one of her greatest teachers. Heather is currently collaborating on the book R*eVe*olution and working with Dr. Neil Kobrin to bring his new book and message of emotional well-being and Mindful Psychology to the world. For more Information visit: http://laughmoreproject.com or http://dreamlifecafe.com

Heather can be contacted at heather@laughmoremedia.com.