Recently, I found myself stepping into a room filled with faces from a long-ago chapter of my life. After nearly 40 years, I reconnected with aunties, uncles, and cousins who were once woven into the daily fabric of my childhood but had slipped away as family dynamics changed. It was my dear uncle’s memorial, and walking into the room, I wasn’t sure who I might recognize—or who would recognize me.

And then, there was my cousin—her face lit up with a familiar smile, waving me over. In that moment, I felt a warmth and sense of belonging that had been missing for so long. As we embraced, she shared her own experience of loss from when I had disappeared from their lives at nine years old after my parents divorced. The years had stretched on, but the bond had never truly been broken. In that instant, it felt like a circle that had been left open for decades had finally closed—a coming back to a place that had always been mine, even if time and distance had made it feel out of reach.

Growing up, I often carried a deep sense of displacement and confusion about where I fit in. In my father's new family, I frequently felt like an outsider, as though my place in his life had somehow diminished. I remember moments where I stood on the sidelines, watching family moments unfold in front of me as if I were a guest in someone else's story. I was often made to feel as though I didn’t belong, and it wasn’t just in my father's world. In my mother's family, where dramatic expressions of identity were the norm, I felt similarly out of place. I was often the quiet one in a room filled with performers, absorbing messages that who I was—or how I was—didn't quite fit the mold. Being told, in so many ways, that I was "wrong" or "bad" slowly chipped away at my sense of self, leaving me guarded and unsure of my own worth. The happy, giggling girl who loved to dance and play had become someone who faded into the background, silenced by the weight of being misunderstood.

Through this patchwork of experiences, I grew up feeling like I was always one step removed from where I was supposed to be. It wasn’t just fear of not fitting in—it was the persistent feeling of being told, directly or indirectly, that I wasn’t enough or wasn’t quite right. Over time, this led me to close off, become more reserved, and feel hesitant to express my true self and voice. I wore these layers like armor, protecting myself from further judgment or rejection.

As someone who connects deeply with the world through energy, I often use this lens to understand my experiences and guide my healing process. Reflecting on these family dynamics and feelings of displacement, I see how they created blocks within my Sacral Chakra—the center of emotions, creativity, and our sense of self. When this energy center is blocked or wounded, it often manifests as a loss of connection to our authentic identity, which then ripples into the Throat Chakra, our center of expression. We second-guess who we are and struggle to articulate our truth, as if the very foundation of our voice has been shaken.

That day, amidst reconnecting and reminiscing, I felt something shift within me. My cousins' joy in seeing me, the shared memories from friends of my father who had known me long ago, and the genuine love reflected in their eyes reminded me that the stories that had made me doubt myself were never the full truth. They were narratives created by others’ limitations and judgments, but they did not define me. The reality was, and always had been, that I was enough. My essence, my worth, my place—they were never lost, only temporarily clouded by the stories I had been told.

I left that room feeling different—lighter, clearer, and more anchored in who I am. It was as if a part of me that had been hidden away had been reclaimed. With that reclamation came a newfound strength in my energy, the confidence to speak my truth, and a deeper understanding of myself. This moment reminded me that healing is not a one-time event but an ongoing journey. You can always reclaim yourself and your voice, no matter how many years have passed.

This is the connection between the Sacral and Throat Chakras—how our creative center fuels our ability to speak, to share, to live authentically. When we heal the wounds of the Sacral, we empower the Throat to express who we truly are. And sometimes, the universe gives us moments, like that evening with my cousins, that serve as catalysts for this healing—a gentle push to remember our birthright and to reclaim our voices.

If you are on your own journey of healing and self-discovery, remember this: no matter how lost you may feel, you are always whole at your core. And sometimes, it just takes a moment of reconnection to remind you of that truth.

Tara Gangadharan - Founder Thara Sacra