Skip to main content

A Love Letter From A Recovered Asshole.

Once upon a time,
I was an asshole.
Looking back, knowing what I know now, I'm positive that I wore such a badge because it was the result of being the ugly, bullied kid that turned pretty girl who thought she was owed the world.  Since my childhood and most of my teenage years were so damn shitty, I was certain I was owed something. 

I supposed it didn't help that my parents were high up on the food chain in our community.  Ego ran rampant in my household. I wanted so badly to impress them and to carve out a name for myself.  Of course, I know better now then to place blame. My parents did the best they could with the cards they were dealt. I love them both dearly.  The grace in our own outcome lies in our personal choices despite our circumstance.

But that notion, I had no idea of until my spiritual awakening. Until my early thirties I rode the tidal wave of my ego through my music industry years. Man! I really thought I was something! Living the American dream, a small town girl made it big. Working for CBS and moonlighting for Sony records my parents would brag to anyone in earshot my accomplishments. With every famous person I met, every autograph or picture, with every award or trip I'd score for naming a compilation CD or for kicking ass promoting a new artist my head would explode just a little more.  I deserved this.

My phone would ring with requests for tickets to shows, movies and outlandish favors tied to my job all the time.  To quiet the resentful demons in my head, I drank, smoked and ate garbage every day. I said and did things that were not so nice. I treated people like they owed me something.  I befriended people to help me get ahead in whatever passing fancy or club I was into justifying it as 'networking'.  I broke hearts, and purposefully stepped on others. When I gave someone something, I secretly expected the world in return. If they didn't say thank you, well, look the hell out!
After a while I became beyond burdened by this vicious cycle.  Not to mention, despite the dozens of friends and lovers I had, I realized I was so damn lonely. Immediately, I started placing blame.  Everyone and everything was wrong! I was one of those girls who would loudly proclaim " I didn't like drama!" But truth be told, I was the common denominator in the drama equation ninety five percent of the time.
My clueless ego perpetuated chronic patterns of self sabotage.  I wrecked majority of my relationships and completely blew opportunities assuring myself that I was right.  I felt entitled to a rock and roll life style  I couldn't even afford and would chase that notion down every night with a bottle of wine for dinner.  After all, I had it so tough growing up and this was my freedom, my uniqueness.   I was special just like my parents told me.  If only my bullies could see me now basking in my swan story.

WARNING: The ego is a wrong-attempt to perceive yourself  as you wish to be, rather than as you are.

So after a decade of this charade, the Universe had enough of my shit and called me out on it big time. Call it Saturn Return, Karma or whatever spiritually trendy thing you need to.  But suddenly any and all of the decisions I had made to better myself and my career were slapped in the teeth with a big fat HELL NO!  It was if the magic in my magic carpet ride had ran out and couldn't find where to pay for more.

Soon, I realized the only true friends I could count on were late nights with Myspace and bottles of whiskey.  Everyone else I suppose just tolerated me.  I couldn't stand what I would see when I looked in the mirror.  I felt empty and angry for not coming to this realization through my own intuition sooner.
So I put down the shots of Jack Daniels and decided to explore church.  I hired a life coach, double my sessions with the psychotherapist and did a six week cosmic cleanse at The Gayatri Institute.
When I started asking who the F I really was and how I got here, well, shit really hit the fan.

I screamed those questions into my pillow at night, journaled incessantly, painted then waited. I went to the bay under a full moon, fell to my knees and begged for a response.  What happened next I wasn't too excited about.  I got an answer but it's not one I wanted: I wasn't meant to be in the music industry.  There were other plans for me. I just had to stop being such an asshole, give up the illusion of my ego and see the forest through the trees.

For so many years, I wanted so badly to be loved and for everyone to love me that I actually lost me along the way.  Even worse, I had no clue what love really was. So I asked The Source, Goddess to teach me unconditional love and much to my dismay, it wasn't about to show up in a romantic partner.  Nor was it going to be provided in a personal training gig at a fancy gym I was trying to achieve to mask my horrible body image and poor self esteem. It also would not be found in any new age lifestyle I was trying on.   The lesson would begin by knocking me on my ass, ripping the magic carpet ride of my ego out from beneath me and sending me back to the place where the entire illusion was created, home. I packed my things and returned from the Bay Area to the woods where my parents and my sister looked at me like strangers.  I had ran from my family because I had no idea how to love them.  I also had no concept of how to love me for me, I never did.

However, asking to learn to love more and to understand unconditional love has been the best self inflicted or universally forced experience.  Accidentally becoming a mom months after this request, I had no choice but to show up and love every single day.  Soon I would be forced to surrender my asshole badge and come clean with who I was.  I had to start over and build from the ground up.

That is where and how this asshole was reformed.  By giving it all up. Loving all of me is not something selfish like I used to believe.  Ironically it soothes the beast ego can be.  Surrendering to love helped me to embrace the bigger things that Universe had in mind for me.  

I could write a letter to me thirteen years ago I'd tell that raw, unconscious and somewhat drunk version of Mick G that her true power wouldn't lie in her job title or lack there of, it would be found in loving herself, flaws and all.  Showing up perfectly imperfect, clad in wounds, scrapes, scars and all, to love others for who their souls were not what they could do for her or who they appeared to be on their business card would be highly recommended.  I'd kindly let her know that the truth tattoo she'd one day brand herself with would become something she would live by and cherish forever. I'd suggest an apology to all the bridges burned, relationships scorned and to be ready to forgive herself for burning them. There in lies both magic and the miracles.  I'd continue to explain that sometimes those apologies wouldn't work and that'd be ok too because everything will be as it should be.  Finally, no one was going to fix her problems for her; I held that skeleton key to unlock the asshole elixir within to get to the shinier, more radiant version of who I am meant to be.

I'd probably also tell her to hang on tightly to her music collection as her G4 would crash and all her time uploading her CD's would be in vain.....but ce la vie.

What would you tell yourself ten or more years ago from the lessons of life you have learned now?
As always, you can email me to share or leave comment below.

In recovered love & bliss,
Mick G


Popular posts from this blog

A Suicide Berceuse.

This is for you the broken hearted.This one is for you who can’t get out of bed and for you who may be finding it so damn hard to return the texts, emails and phone calls from anyone. 
This one is dedicated to those who having a hard time showing up because even thinking about showing up is too much energy. 
This one is for you who can’t seem to move on after the loss of a beloved. It’s for the ones whose days gone by are better than the days you’ve been wading through.This is for all of you who can’t catch a break financially, romantically or dream wise and wonder what it's all for.
The world has an immeasurable void in it. Constant pain inflicted from headlines or bylines is palpable. You’re unsure of your footing on our planet because the ground beneath you is unstable even when the sun shines otherwise. 
This one is for you who have contemplated at least once, perhaps even more than once about pressing the eject button on life. It’s here that you are in good company. It's…

4 Reasons Why Badmouthing Others is BAD For YOU.

I was talking today with a friend about the importance of words.  How you use them, positively, negatively any which way.  Words are like weapons.  Once you put them out there, they are pretty much impossible to take back.  Sure you can say you are sorry but it doesn't wipe the blood and guts off the floor from the initial bullet wound.  Forgiveness is key, but let's be mindful of our words from the get.  Dig?

Here's a repurposed blog to go along with those thoughts.

Everyone gets hurt. No one is perfect. People mess up. Mistakes are made. But the cross you bare when you badmouth someone else's questionable deeds or good fortunes, their life advances or personal tragedies is a very heavy one.

When you engage in loose lip service per say "warning" peers or anyone within earshot about someone or someone's "drama" or perhaps you seem to regurgitate the pain someone has caused you over and over to friends, strangers, clients, family members....wel…

The Sum of all Jitters

Monday, I leave my precious, beautiful and sacred bubble of Jim Thorpe for New York City to embark on my first week of Kundalini Yoga teacher training.  This learning adventure will stretch over the course of the next eight months. It's something that has been pulling at my heart for the last five years in terms of spiritual and physical evolution.

 And naturally with most new personal mega shifts or changes comes a tinge of fear. 
Yes, it's normal.  Don't use my words against me. But the 17 year old who lives somewhere inside of me sits up, batting her eyes so that I take notice.  She thanks me for honoring our future. She is excited for possibility and for helping others, always. But she bites her lip "even though we've come so far regarding our body image, even though we've done so much self love/self esteem work over the years, I'm still scared to wear white pants."

And I feel her..

It's not because I stain every white piece of clothing I o…