Remembering a Past Life – Healing Wounds That Were Never Mine
For as long as I can remember, I have carried a deep and almost tragic fear of hospitals. The smell of disinfectant, the sight of blood, the idea of needles, surgery, childbirth, even the thought of death — all of it triggered a fear in me that felt far greater than anything I had personally experienced.
I was also deeply afraid of marriage and of having a husband, as if my body remembered something my mind could not explain.
For many years, I thought these fears were simply part of who I was. But recently, after digging deeper into the trauma stored in what I feel is my energetic or auric field, something unexpected began to surface.
A story from my family.
My grandaunt — my grandmother’s sister — died shortly after giving birth. She had a C-section and suffered from blood clots. She was in the hospital for some time and received many injections. Tragically, the baby she delivered died only a few days before her from a lung infection.
When I learned the details of her story, something inside me shifted. The fears I had carried my whole life suddenly made sense. Hospitals, needles, childbirth, death — these were the very circumstances surrounding her final days. She had a husband that had a secret second wife she found out 5 months into the marriage.
It felt as though the emotional memory of that trauma had somehow continued through me. We share the same soul.
For most of my life, my fear of childbirth was so overwhelming that 25 years ago I chose to have an abortion. At the time, I felt it was the only way I could cope with the terror I carried inside me.
Now, looking back with new awareness, I see that decision through a different lens.
My nephew, who was born later in our family, has always had a curious habit when he plays — he often wants to pretend he is a baby and that I am his mother. For years I never understood why that dynamic appeared so naturally between us.
Recently, after speaking with my aunt and hearing the full story of my grandaunt’s death, something finally clicked for me.
It felt as though the fears I carried were not entirely my own.
And another thought began to emerge — one that felt deeply symbolic and meaningful.
In my heart, it feels as if the soul of my grandaunt’s baby and the soul that once wanted to come through me may have chosen to incarnate again within our family — this time safely, this time with a chance to live.
Whether one understands this through spirituality, family memory, the psychology of inherited trauma, or the idea of reincarnation, what matters most to me is the healing that came with this realization.
By acknowledging the story, praying for those who suffered, and allowing myself to release the fear, I felt something lift from my body and my heart.
For the first time in my life, those fears no longer feel like chains.
Instead, they feel like something that has finally been seen, honored, and gently released.
And with that understanding, I feel free to move forward — lighter, calmer, and no longer carrying a story that was never truly mine.
