My Birth & Its Effects On My Romantic Relationships

by "Mika"

I have only had several birth re-livings in self-primal therapy, so I must confess that there is much about my birth which I have not yet experienced.

I know I was so squeezed in the birthing process that I physically split in two; it was as if I'd suffered a paralysis in the left hemisphere of the brain. It felt like you described, and my mother's behavior in my childhood followed similar patterns. It was 'her way or no way,' and I had to succumb to her will, feel humiliated and blocked before she would give me what I needed from her. To begin with I was an accident as well.

My birth primals have revealed this much: When the contractions began I felt very excited and vitalized. Her muscles massaged me from top to bottom, and it felt like sparks were flying out of the soles of my feet. The pressure was rhythmic and sensual and was inviting me to swim, push and kick, and I could move inch by inch, drilling my head further in the soft fleshy wall. Then everything stopped for a mindnumbingly long time, and eventually I was squeezed so tight that I could not respond at all.

The pressure heightened until the right side of my body went totally limp, and the left side of my body continued to push and attempt to get ahead - to make progress in being born. Then, suddenly 'the thing' (my mother's birth canal) began moving again, sucking me out, while helping me find the right rhythm, and the rest of my birth was very easy. It was as if mother just pushed me out, but I felt way too exhausted to enjoy it anymore.

I don't know why my birth went like it did; was it because of a bad position mom was lying in, or was it something psychological? It just felt like a big betrayal, a total stop with the message of, "You don't get out before I tell you to." It felt hostile, but I cannot really say for sure what was happening or what my mother was feeling.

I have had remarkable photographic flashbacks about what happened in the room right after my birth. The most revealing part was seeing my mother's face for the first time. I registered three facial expressions that really tell the story of my struggles with the opposite sex ( I am male ).

First, mom looked tired and unwanting. She didn't want me. When I was given to her, she looked like a little girl who became hopeful that this new baby could love her. She clearly expected me to respond to her optimistic expression. When I apparently did not, her face turned into an arrogant "I'm not loving you either" sort of bitterness, which must have projected her disappointment in her own mother.

After these birth primals, when this insightful mystery unraveled, I was ready to go out and, once again, look for some female company. My therapeutic process started when I realized I was repeating a pattern with girlfriends. I always fell for young women who looked like they thought they were better than anybody else and had a generally snobbish facial expression. I would court them and attempt to woo them, and if I was successful, I swung to the positive polar of my split.

A few weeks or months later, when I realised the girl had 'weaknesses', insecurities, complexes etc., I would swing to the other end and simply loath her for disappointing me. I was not a caring boyfriend after that realization. I was only interested in boosting my own self esteem by projecting my own insecurities onto the girls, hurting their feelings as I unconsciously trod along .

After I'd become aware of this pattern of mine, I stopped going steady or getting serious with anyone. I tried a couple of dates during the bulk of my self primaling, but the feelings always emerged. When I finally saw that little cinema about my mother when I had been born and whom I was meeting her for the first time, it gave me instant release from my act outs.

I had split in the birth canal, and my mother's own split (not to mention other family members') helped to further engrave and cement the split in me. The child I was had needed to make a snobbish, insecure mother, into one who was loving and whole. This had become my primary mission in life. All my girlfriends after that had been sacrificed on that altar, as I kept approaching the terrible let-down I had blocked from realization in my childhood: "Mother cannot love, she can only look strong or break into pieces."


The author has also written, The Dream Route To Primal Pain.

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