Are Your Parents Soul Mates or Cell Mates?

It’s common to have little (or humongous) grudges you hold onto, especially when it comes to our parents.

But, they weren’t just raising you; they were surfing their own waves of battles, worries, and fears.

It’s like they were juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle on a tightrope over a pit of alligators.

You know that saying, “You can’t choose your parents”?

Well, I’ve got a different take on it. I think your soul actually has a hand in picking your parents during a pre-birth planning party.

Imagine your soul buddies coming together to figure out what life lessons you’re up for in your next stint at Earth School – a crash course in personal growth based trauma.

So, your buddies and you hash out who’s gonna play what role – sometimes y’all even swap the good guy and bad guy parts to get a whole new perspective.

And other times, you stick to your roles to dive super deep into experiences and hopefully come out even wiser on the other side. Crazy, right?

In my previous life, things were pretty wild.

I was born in the 1800s in the Pacific Northwest, the child of an indigenous woman and a white English settler.

Cher’s hit song was my story, with a juicy backstory that follows:

My mother’s people were ashamed of me.

The Indians said that I was white by law.

The White Man always called me “Indian Squaw”

My grandpa, who was the tribe leader, took me under his wing from day one. He was really into both science and spirituality, and he taught me everything he knew about nature, universal laws, and scientific theories. I was his star student until he died when I was five years-old.

Then there was my dad. He was the eldest son of a successful entrepreneur who made a fortune through some clever land deals with my grandpa’s people. But things took a bad turn when a deal went south, and my dad was killed.

He had left everything to my mom and me in his will, but his family wanted nothing to do with us and hid the will. They didn’t like the idea of having an illegitimate grandchild of a different race and what they deemed a lower class.

Devastated, my mom eventually passed away from the heartbreak.

After losing our land, I was sent off to English schools to be “re-educated.” I was into all the psychic stuff my grandpa taught me, but whenever I got caught practicing it, I was punished.

The white settlers thought I was possessed or crazy, and I ended up in jail and raped more than once.

One day, the headmaster of my school got curious about my background. After doing some digging, he found out the truth about my parents, a truth even I didn’t know. Seeing his chance, he married me, then blackmailed my dad’s parents for the inheritance money before running off with his real wife and the cash.

My dad’s family was so embarrassed that they blamed me for the whole thing, accusing me of being in on the con. Just like that, I became a total outcast. Even people who’d known my mom wouldn’t come near me. Jobs? None. Friends? Forget it.

With no money and no support, I changed my name and moved to a different town, far away from all the drama. I took a simple job and kept my intuitive abilities hidden for the rest of my life.

I musta had a hangover the day I did my pre-birth planning.

I strongly suspect my mom in this life was my headmaster opportunistic husband in my past life above.

But my soul’s plan was for my current mom to trigger old fears from that past life. And the reason for all of this is to heal those fears:

• Fears of inferiority, so my soul could recognize and eliminate abandonment issues and develop confidence to make self a priority by doing what I love.
• Fear of powerlessness, so I would stop settling for a life below what I truly desire and freely make choices in my best interest.