This is a guest post by long-time Women At Woodstock alum Kathy Welby Moretti, reprinted with her permission from her blog, kathywelbymorettidotcom.wordpress.com.
She awoke this morning with a feeling of hope inside her. A seed that had been planted was starting to sprout. A feeling stirred inside her – one she had not felt in so, so long. Maybe it was the sun shining in, or the anticipation of spring returning. She knew she had to Let Go and Let GOD – something that was so hard for her to do since she was a child. Since she can remember, she held on and gripped so tightly with clenched fists, so afraid that if she loosened her grip it would all fly away. She needed the structure, the security, the illusion that she was in charge in a world of chaos.
Over the years she had been learning, with the help of friends and prayer, to slowly unclench her fists, but the shield she wore that encased her heart was different. There were loved ones who managed to crack the casing, but for the most part it was intact. She had been hurt at a young age and learned early on you can’t trust people. There was one point in her teens when she hurt others before they were given a chance to hurt her. She understood deeply pain, despair and loneliness.
Now in her sixties, she was just getting the knack of opening her heart when it was again broken in the worst way possible. She found out that thirty years of working for a cause, under the leadership of a caring person, had been an illusion. The people she trusted were phonies. The one she worked so hard for was a mean, sadistic imposter who set out to break her, and finally he succeeded. For ten months she hid, broken anew, and tried to rebuild her armor, not to be hurt again. It was useless. Once your heart is fully open, it is very hard to close it again. And women friends – both lifelong and new – kept on reaching out to her. They were not willing to let her drown.
They were her posse and they planted the seeds. They reminded her of her worth, her integrity, how she helped so many. They would not go away and they would not let her hide, as much as she tried to. Her husband and child were loving, kind, and gentle, giving her time to grieve her loss of her identity, her passion in life, her world for thirty years. She was so afraid she would just fade away, disappear, melt like
a wax statue. But her women posse and her family would not allow it. She learned to be strengthened by their strength. She learned to be grateful.
Yes, she awoke this morning with that feeling of hope sprouting.