The following is what resonates with me and I hope it encourages people to dive into the text or the audiobook and find what resonates with them.
Chapter 6 – Finding One’s Pack: Belonging as a Blessing
Greetings and salutations to the unruly! This is for the cycle breakers and free spirits. For those who peeped the nonsense and couldn’t stay quiet about it. Who knew that they should not be quiet. For those who know the value of chosen family. Every black sheep hasn’t made it there yet. This is for you too. You’re not trying to cause trouble, you’ve simply been yourself. You’ve committed no offense, like many of us you just need to find your place.
“The Ugly Duckling” (p. 178) needed to find its place. This is considered a root story. It holds a fundamental human truth for psychological development. First, a lack of external nurturing will not destroy the wild spirit. Second, when the wild spirit finds kindred, it’s filled with previously unknown strength (p. 183). The Ugly Duckling does not fit in his family or community. Everyone belittles and torments him. He seeks shelter and acceptance, facing danger at every turn. Surviving a harsh winter, he encounters beautiful birds but fear they will kill him, as others have tried. Instead, they recognize him as their own and greet him with care. He has found his flock, his place.
Exile of the Unmatched Child
Like the duckling, a willful and curious girl will suffer in the wrong community. At best she is misunderstood and at worst met with cruelty. She’ll internalize every negative label thrust upon her. Lazy, selfish, disrespectful, whatever the community dishes out. Most cultures expect female children to act in predetermined ways and have limited interests (p. 185). As if we all come down an assembly line. They’ll try to crush you when you break the preconceived mold. To combat societal pressure, a woman or girl needs her internal mother to have enough strength to resist. Moderate strength (p.185) to stand up for herself and where she belongs.
Kind of Mothers
The internal mother is a combination of our parent and other mother figures. Psychology refers to this as “the mother complex” (p. 186). Identifying patterns based on our experiences with our mothers/mother figure can be rough. We may love them, but can still acknowledge errors and correct them for ourselves. It shouldn’t need to be said but this isn’t about placing blame, it’s recognizing what works and what needs repair. There are three types of internal mothers: ambivalent, collapsed, and unmothered.
The Ambivalent Mother
The ambivalent mother lives in a culture built on punishment (p. 187). If she goes against the grain the culture will try to separate her from what she loves or exile her. Under pressure, she sides with the culture. A vindictive society lacks forgiveness, caste determines care, the body is “dirty”, and the soul is ignored (p.188). A woman with this internal construct may give in easily and not stand up for or assert herself. To restructure a woman must be fierce and unrelenting (p.188). The wild nature doesn’t conform, that’s why we fight so hard. We know, consciously or subconsciously that variety is natural, healthy, and necessary.
The Collapsed Mother
The collapsed mother is faced with impossible, heart breaking, soul tearing choices. A collapsed person loses their sense of self due to an emotional divide (p. 189). The culture’s rules require painful sacrifice, the sign of a sick society. The culture can be real or internal based on learning and experience. America imposes the impossible choice through slavery, war, and “illegitimate” children (p. 190). A collapsed internal mother makes a woman question her worth. This woman must stand up and find where she belongs. She cannot give up on herself, doing nothing is not an option.
The Unmothered Mother
New mothers need community, the wisdom and knowledge of “goddess-mothers” to sustain them and teach them to care for their child’s psyche. When the mother is taken care of, she pours from a full cup into her child. She provides everything they need to grow strong not just physically but mentally (p.191). The role of a “goddess-mother” has been shrunk by religion. The knowledge shared is imperative for healthy women and raising healthy, self-assured children. Learning to mother should not happen in isolation, we are meant to work together and lean on each other. The unmothered are playing dress up. Flying around trying to be everything to everybody. They burn themselves out, clumsy and lacking foundation. They upend everything like a tornado with no idea how to provide comfort or stability.
The internal mother holds considerable weight. She needs work and restructuring. I can hear the one formed in my childhood and adolescence; a harsh, sneering voice. Quick to anger, hypercritical, and only accepting of gold standard results. This mother leans more toward the ambivalent, triggered by ridicule and wishing I would fall in line on a practical, measured path.
The Strong Mother, The Strong Child
The internal mother is supported by relationships with older women (p.193). Kind women despite seeing and experiencing it all. Relationships with other women are the most important ones we have. In them we learn and connect with the wild mother. We are consistently arriving to a new stage, learning from those ahead of us, and teaching those who come up behind. We share amongst each other to ensure that we continue to grow. This growth forges our strength of spirit and sense of self.
Damage from mothering in childhood can be repaired. Our souls can survive on next to nothing. (p. 194). I survived when I gave myself nothing for years. From 14-30, 16 years of nothing. No questions, no kindness, no truth. Just fear and hoping no one would call me out and crush my spirit. I had terrible internal mothering, informed by a myriad of sources. Society, grief, church, expectations, lack of explanations, and being misunderstood. I’ve spent the last four years learning what to give myself. I didn’t know I was on the path to my wild nature.
The Rough Road
On the journey of reshaping the internal mother and finding where we belong, we will bump our heads along the way. The duckling wanders looking for acceptance and lands in several precarious situations. For us, we may seek something or someone to numb the pain of exile. This only brings new injury; we have to face the original hurt and find a salve for it (p. 195). We may try to contort ourselves to fit a mold. The desperation will leave us begging for what we need from people we don’t belong to. This cuts us off from our wild nature. We have to be ourselves to keep our souls healthy. Let the group be who they are and be who you are unabashedly (p.196).
We may take a cooler approach for protection. Hello to my fellow ice queens. I chafed a bit reading that coldness is just defensive anger (p.197). Honestly, I knew it was a defense mechanism and it’s highly effective. I employ it with people I don’t like or don’t trust. They are barred from my warm heart. Unfortunately, the soul needs warmth and iciness stalls creativity. Creating is how we express our wholeness. Melt the ice wall so your art can move through you.
The Dark of Night
Right when we reach our wit’s end, something happens. When we feel we can’t take another blow something darts in and out bringing relief (p. 199). A little push to let us breath through the exile. Exile isn’t glamorous. No one should be cast out for being themselves. Despite the trauma, they’re forged like iron as they search for where they belong. They gain strength through sharper insight, intuition, and observation skills. Desire for a culture that matches us pushes us to continue, we will not stop until we find it. We’ll build it if it doesn’t exist and can partner with others seeking the same.
The duckling moves in and out of places, seeking acceptance and leaving when the inhabitants make it unsafe. People are dissimilar, everyone is not compatible and that’s okay. Women may look scattered, as they try to find where they belong (201). She’s trying everything, identifying the best parts, and with the knowledge she can move on to her path with purpose again. She needs to explore, turning things upside down and inside out. Shaking them to hear what’s inside to make an informed decision. Let her work through it, she’s perfectly capable. You are perfectly capable. There is no need to contort once the path is found again.
The Eternal Soul
The promise of the wild nature is to persist (p. 203). We are not chasing a dead concept, we feel it. Every woman, everywhere has it. The connection can be severed, but it can never be destroyed. Someone is always connecting with hers; the wild nature is always reaching out and pushing us forward even when we don’t know it. We will find where we belong even if we are a bit suspicious upon arrival. We may question the kindness we receive. Can you accept a genuine compliment? I barely can. I deflect or downplay whatever I am complimented on. My Ugly Duckling still makes some noise. We have to accept not only our individuality and the kind of person we are but the beauty our souls reflect (p.204). We exist simply as we are and that is the right thing to do. We seek the wild, our natural selves, and it seeks us too.
The Mistaken Zygote
The duckling was ostracized by his family and community. Some of us do not fit into our families. They are exasperated with our differences and don’t support our curiosities. Women brimming with life since childhood, but someone always tried to rein them in. Climb trees? That’s too rough. Play with bugs? Too gross. Sing out loud at random? Too noisy. They’ve tried to be good and follow the rules but they’re “different” and it’s not a compliment. Dr. Estés crowns them “The Mistaken Zygote” (p.205). They fell into the wrong family. These women may want orange walls, jasmine in the air, and the taste of fresh black peppercorn. Their families live in shades of beige with delicate noses and bland palettes. They want stale consistency, for everyone to be the same in perpetuity.
Conversely, The Mistaken Zygote possesses a consistent character. Their fundamental creativity, view of the world, and adaptability to change are resolute. Family demands and soul needs clash. Harshness or cruelty crushes a child’s soul. Gentle parenting hear my cry! Balance teaching a child safety and respect for others and their boundaries while letting the child express and explore their world. It may take time, but the soul can return with a mix of “naked honesty, stamina, tenderness, sweetness, ventilation of rage, and humor” (p.209).
Every soul has different needs (p.210). Mine are sunlight, tasty food, music, books, and colored writing utensils. Yours may be quiet time, a gentle breeze, rainfall, films, jokes, the occasional scream, moving your body, or a garden. Think of what brings you peace and wholeness. The Mistaken Zygote is a survivor who thrives by laying down the mantle. Ridicule, exile, and a long journey are a part of the story not its entirety. We have to make space for light to feed the garden as it grows.
Thriving is our birthright (p.212). Take heart in being an unsettling, wind whipping, defiant force. This is how you make a mark in your community, be it big or small. Hold on to your otherness. The things that made you “different” and what others couldn’t understand. You do not need their acceptance. Your work, our work, is to gather strength to go out on our own. We must recognize our wounds, melt the ice around our hearts, resist the urge to shape-shift for acceptance, persist as the wild spirit does, accept our beauty, and build community. Each chapter adds to the healing regimen and reminds us of the depth of our soul’s capacity.
