The seed to my soul reckoning, the rejection of my "lovely' role was planted during my teen years and early twenties as I observed the behavior of my peers. Their ability to "let loose", have fun and occassionally indulge in reckless, inconsiderate, rebellious behavior did not condemn them to misfortune. Quite the contrary, they appeared to be developing into well adjusted adults on the path to successful careers. My core belief — suppress your instincts, follow the rules, be nice and happiness will follow — was challenged. As I continued to hold on my belief, I became righteous.
In my mid twenties, the seed germinated as I realized that I was different from my peers. I came home for a visit one weekend and as I entered the house I announced to my parents: “Your sacrificial lamb is home!” Hurt and bewilderment filtered through their agitated response — what on earth was I talking about? I explained that it was just a joke. But silently, shame flushed through my body. I realized they didn’t get it.
It was so obvious to me that being their lovely daughter was a huge personal sacrifice. I didn’t see myself as being lovely. I thought they knew that I was sacrificing my difficult, dark side on their, but particularly Mom’s, behalf.
I wondered -— was my belief that my parents wanted me to be someone other than who I really was, in fact, not true? The thought stung deeply and I buried the possibility that I could be responsible for my own unhappiness: the lovely, princess persona was self imposed to gain a status that never existed.
The art would soon start to reflect hidden aspects of myself as well as my discontent with my lovely image. The sacrificial lamb would soon long to free itself from the bondage of role playing.
