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Patricia Morgan

Patricia Morgan MA CCC helps her readers, clients, and audiences lighten their load, brighten their outlook, and strengthen their resilience. To go from woe to WOW call 403.830.6919 or email a request. If you enjoyed or benefited from this blog, please leave a Comment below and subscribe to my eNewsletterYour Uplift


  1. Mary vW
    September 29, 2017 @ 10:31 am

    Hi, Patricia,

    I enjoy your newsletters and I learned from you both times I attended events where you were a speaker.

    I have been toying for a couple of years about changing my name; by incorporating my second name. Being a Catholic girl I had my first name, second name, and a third name. When I was confirmed in the church I was given a Saint’s name, too. My last name is a longer two-part name. Most signature lines don’t even fit the first and last name.

    Over the past few years, I have met my inner child. I call her Rose, my second name. The name was never really used in my world. I have personally not cared for my first name. No particular reason that I can figure but it never felt right to me. On the other hand, Rose has had more meaning to me. I associate it with the song “The Rose” by Amanda McBroom. My favorite version was by Bette Midler. I have a rose tattoo. I believed that no matter how downtrodden I felt over my lifetime I could associate with the rose that comes back fresh and new each year. Here are the lyrics, in case you aren’t familiar:

    Some say love it is a river
    That drowns the tender reed
    Some say love it is a razor
    That leaves your soul to bleed
    Some say love it is a hunger
    An endless aching need
    I say love it is a flower
    And you it’s only seed
    It’s the heart afraid of breaking
    That never learns to dance
    It’s the dream afraid of waking that never takes the chance
    It’s the one who won’t be taken
    Who cannot seem to give
    And the soul afraid of dying that never learns to live
    When the night has been too lonely
    And the road has been too long
    And you think that love is only
    For the lucky and the strong
    Just remember in the winter far beneath the bitter snows
    Lies the seed
    That with the sun’s love
    In the spring
    Becomes the rose

    All of the lyrics resonate with me. I connected with the prickly exterior of the rose because I felt I was prickly and people avoided me or bullied me. I felt alone and unwanted for my entire life despite three siblings. I didn’t feel I knew what love was or how it should feel. I could never understand why I felt so much like I didn’t belong. This went on for over 55 years. I tried marriages but they didn’t work out. I had four children of my own and I worked hard to let them know they were loved, wanted and terrific human beings. I did all this while never really knowing what love was supposed to feel like. I faked it!

    Now that I have my inner Rosie in my life I am learning to love myself. I also cleared a stuck energy about not being wanted after a discussion with my mother a few months ago. I asked her how she felt when she found out she was expecting me. She said she didn’t want me to be born. Say What? This admission validated that my feelings of being unwanted and not fitting in came from some memory I formed while still in utero. How crazy was that? I asked my mom because I had done a regression hypnotherapy session and felt how I felt in the womb. My mom went on, with some further prodding from me, to say that her elder sister had a stillborn that was “taken away” from her. My mom was so fearful that if she let me be born I would also be taken. Her negative inner thoughts became my negative inner belief that I wasn’t wanted. Blows my mind how this can even happen!

    Once I understood that my feelings were because my mother loved me so much and was afraid to lose me, once I was born, I was able to shift from feeling unloved to recognizing that I was loved very much by a mom who simply couldn’t show it.

    I love the smell and the deep red beauty of a red rose. The softness of the petals and the scent that makes me think of raspberries fill me with good vibes. Every day I talk to my inner Rosie. I tell her how loved she is. I tell her that I am sorry I didn’t know her all those years. I tell her that we will never be apart again and that I will always protect and love her. Maybe that is the message I longed to hear when I was young. As I move forward in life and continue to grow and learn I am finding out some amazing things about myself and who I really am. The more I embrace the real me the more I change my thoughts.

    I struggle with some of the changes but they feel right on a deep level. Like I always was the rose even if I didn’t know it. Rosie was pushing to come into my world. Every day I become more and more complete. I am scared at times by the overwhelming feelings I have because they are foreign to me but I take a deep breath and hold on trusting that each time the seed will make it through another winter. In the last three weeks, I have learned so much about myself and what my true purpose is.

    As I become more complete I feel like I should change my name to reflect the changes. I am not simply Rose because that eliminates the parts of me from my past. I can’t do that because they are still parts of me. Those parts are what makes up the ‘who’ I am becoming. I am also no longer Mary. I have evolved past that point. My gut says I am Mary Rose and that feels right. I don’t have to do anything to change it legally because it is, in fact, my legal name. I simply have to reach the point where I feel my past, my present, and my future self will be complete as Mary Rose. When I get to that point I will start referring to myself as Mary Rose.

    Thank you for posting your story. It inspired me to write this lengthy comment. It feels good to make it real by writing and having it witnessed by those who choose to read it.


    • Patricia Morgan
      September 29, 2017 @ 11:01 pm

      Thank you, Mary,

      In all the years I have been blogging my thoughts, discoveries, and stories, your comment is the deepest, most personal and heartfelt. Thank you, for sharing with such vulnerability and candor.

      I know The Rose well. When I took singing lessons it was my favorite. I was known to sing it at birthday parties and special occasions regardless of not doing it justice. I agree with you about Better Midler’s rendition.

      Your story about your mom is classic. As children, we try to make sense of our thoughts, feelings, and experiences from a naive and innocent place. Often children decide their pain–feeling rejected, unsafe, insecure, unworthy, stupid– is about them. They decided they are flawed in some way. It is too dangerous to think of our caregiver’s, the providers of our survival, as in any way wrong.

      Good on you for nourishing your ‘inner Rosie’. Many people do not invest the time and focus to engage in a healing process. Yet, those, including myself, have found ‘healing the inner child’ a worthy and successful effort.

      The world is a better place for your healing! I know it! Let us know when you are ready for us t call you by Mary Rose!

      Blessing, Patricia


  2. Dee SR
    March 5, 2013 @ 4:33 pm

    When I was a toddler in the 70s, I was misdiagnosed with a certain rare (at the time) “behavioural” condition due to the fact that I screamed a lot. My reason for screaming was the massive headaches, acid reflux and abdominal pains I kept having, but a two year old cannot articulate those very well. As a result, I ended up being subjected to what I will call torture in the name of treatment. (Restraints and painful electric shocks were involved as a form of behaviour modification.) Thankfully, this was only for 6 months until I was pronounced ‘cured’ of the condition. (I cannot scream at all now. Even if I am in a ton of pain.) The migraines, acid reflux and abdominal pains did not stop, however. I just learned to stop telling people about them and just suffered in silence until the reflux caused some damage when I was in my early 20s and I almost died as a result. The whole time the torment was happening, I was always addressed by my given name.

    As I grew up, I would feel revulsion and cringe when I heard the name. At school I was bullied and also called that name, so it compounded the negative association. Add the fact that parents use one’s full name when a kid is being disciplined and that name became the bane of my existence. I spent my childhood, teen years and early adulthood despising my name more than anyone could imagine. I wanted to change my name and I spent a lot of time and effort researching names in my family and what the meanings were.

    In my research, I discovered that some cultures would name a child a baby name and then give the child his or her permanent name as they came into adulthood and did something remarkable. My own ancestors were one such culture, so changing my name seemed to be the natural thing to do. I had outgrown my “baby” name and was ready to take on my “adult” name. Heroes would achieve great feats and be remembered in history once they were given a name. Some legends even said that a person would die if not given an adult name. I knew that wasn’t true, but I just couldn’t stand my name any longer.

    In 2005, my husband and I bought our first house out of town, which was a huge step for us. I was 30 years old. That year was also the year that Ralph Klein did me a huge favour: give each Albertan about $400.00, which we’ve come to call “Ralph-bucks”. I took that money to the AMA Registry and immediately changed my first, middle and last name to the names that I had spent so much time researching. I then changed all of my ID and it was by far the most liberating move of my life.

    For once in my life, I love my name. I can hear someone address me by name and not feel a sickening rage every time I hear it or see it. I can write my name down or hand out my business card and not feel ashamed of my name. Since changing my name, I have found the right career path, gotten involved in my community and also found out from a few specialists that I never did have the “behavioural” condition I was diagnosed with as a child. The physical health issues that caused all of my pain are under control. Perhaps the name change empowered me to succeed and have things fall in place, or perhaps there is something to the ancient tales of heroes achieving great things upon taking up their adult names. Whatever the reason, changing my name was the best thing I ever did for myself!

    Sometimes it’s best to embrace one’s full name and sometimes one just has to get rid of that name completely in order to be empowered. Thank you for sharing this great article!


    • Patricia Morgan
      March 5, 2013 @ 5:05 pm

      WOW Dee,
      What an amazing story of the Power of Name. Really your point is the same as mine. We need to be our own advocates. Healthy adults can do that. I commend you on your self-care and feel empathy for the child you once were that walked through emotional fire. Blessings to you for your deep sharing. Patricia


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