Embracing the Crone

The crone. I see her every morning. Scowling at me in the mirror.  I love her with all of my heart. Even though she is in direct conflict with my happy inner child. The inner me sees her as the evil witch who wants to give me a poisoned apple. Kill my joy. Convince me that I’m old, useless, and unnecessary.  There’s no getting rid of her.  She shows up at the most inappropriate times. Nagging me. Questioning my judgement.

Sounds crazy, huh?  To some of you, maybe. Others know exactly what I’m talking about. 🙂

For many of us, finding self love is a lifetime quest. Almost from birth, we are compared to others, held to impossible standards, ridiculed, and belittled. Eventually, the voices of others become voices in your head. Constantly judging, criticizing, telling yourself that you’re not good enough.

Having come from two parents who seemed to despise me, combined with a guilt-laden 12 years of Catholic school, my self image has always been kind of skewed. It’s only as I’ve gotten older that I’ve learned to see myself as worthy and lovable.

But even now, after all of the inner work, I’m facing the crone. The cranky old madwoman in the mirror. She looks like she’s at least 100 years old. She’s tired and bitter and has no tolerance for my little girl joy and hope. She doesn’t like the smile I wear.

She’s really at it now.  You see, I just started seeing a very interesting man. I’m feeling vibrant and optimistic, but the crone is not happy.  She’s raging. “Are you out of your mind?! You’re too old to go falling head over heals for someone. He’ll break your heart like the rest of them.  Wake up, sistergirl.” I tell her I know what I’m doing.  She scowls at me. “Fool!”

I want to throw a bucket of water on her and watch her melt like the wicked witch in the Wizard of Oz.  

I know she means well.  We’re not getting any younger and I haven’t always made the best choices in men. I understand her fear.  So, with all of the love and compassion I have in me, I’m going to take her in my arms and kindly tell her to chill the fuck out.

Everything will be ok. We’re in this together and, if this wide-open road leads to a broken heart, so be it.  I’m telling her, “I love you, darlin’, but right now, you need to just shut up and let me drive.”

Share this: