Yesterday, I posted about how I've learned to say NO. And how good it feels to do what I want, and to not be manipulated by others... I posted a conversation I had where I got to be the person who had learned stuff, and I talked about how it's okay to think about what you want... blah... blah... blah...
Last night, we'd planned to go fishing, but it was raining and cold.
This is how the conversation went:
BJ: Jen, do you want to go fishing?
Jen: Sure.
BJ: Do you WANT to?
Jen: I don't know... can't I just go and think about it later?
BJ: Think of this as payback. What do you WANT?
Jen: Well fuck. (pause, while I actually thought about what I wanted) No. I don't really want to go tonight, but I AM willing.
BJ: That wasn't my question. My question was "do you want to?" The truth is, I don't want to go right now either, but I was also willing. We could have both ended up doing something neither one of us wanted just because we thought the other one wanted to.
He has a very good point. I wonder how often THAT happens. Both people are unhappy because neither one says what they want.
Wait a second... now... as I'm writing this, I wonder: When was he going to tell me that he didn't want to? Calling me out on my inability to say what I want, but completely ignoring his own wants...
Just in case anyone is wondering... I have made a lot of progress... but I definitely wouldn't call this one of my strengths.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
It doesn't make you kind - it just makes you feel like a slave.
The following conversation has actually happened. More than once. Most often, I have been the pink person. Once or twice I have been the green person.
A conversation between two people:
Do you WANT to do that?
You have nothing to be afraid of. You are good and kind and wonderful. You will still be all of those things when you learn to let yourself do what you want. You will find that you want to do a lot of things for other people, and doing things for others won't wear you out like it does now. It will feel good. It will feel fun and loving and GOOD.
Say, "I appreciate you asking, but I am not interested right now. If anything changes I'll let you know".
It doesn't really matter... You can even tell him how hard it is to say no, because you feel like you don't have a choice. You can tell him you feel like you have to do what he wants, but you don't want to... Just be honest with yourself, and understand you are worthy of having your own wants, needs, thoughts, and opinions. You get to decide what you do with your life.
When I was afraid that I couldn't say NO, I had a lot of social anxieties. I was afraid of every man, woman and child. What if they wanted something? I HAD to give them what they wanted. If someone asked for something, I had no choice. If someone looked like they might sort of kind of want something, I had no choice. It was my job to take care of everyone else, and the way I did that was to always do what everyone else wanted. The world was a terribly frightening place.
It WAS really hard to face the anxiety of saying NO, and even more scary to think about what I wanted. It was SO hard. I wasn't sure it was worth it at the time, but it got better. I got used to acknowledging my wants and needs. I got used to doing what I wanted, and they were right! I actually WANT to do a lot of things for and with other people. I am much more kind and giving person now, because I do things from my own heart. I don't do things out of obligation, guilt or fear.
I feel very comfortable in social situations now. If someone wants a hug, I think about what I want and I do that. (I CHOOSE.) If someone asks me a question, I decide what and how much I will share. If someone needs money, I decide how much I can and want to give. The world isn't scary anymore, because I know I can take care of myself.
Other people didn't change. I did!
I learned how to take care of myself. I learned how to respect me. I learned I had a choice. I had the right to say NO to any request, at any time, for any reason.
There are some people who don't care about my wants or needs... They care a lot about their own wants. Some people's needs include controlling others, controlling ME. When I encounter people like this, I find I have to be VERY strong. NO should be enough, but sometimes I have to get distance and space from them too.
There will always be people who don't understand or respect my boundaries. There will always be people who use manipulation, insults, and whatever else they have to do to get what they want. When I'm dealing with people like that, less is more. NO is enough. If I give my reasons, or my thoughts, they tend to use that against me.
There are still people who don't know how to handle it if I don't say YES. They just aren't used to me saying no. At first, they might do some manipulative things, but they won't KEEP doing those things. (This usually happens with family. They've known me all my life, and they just don't know how to handle "the new me". Explaining to them where I have been and why the change makes a lot of sense to them. Their love for me motivates them to become a part of the next group.)
For the most part, all of my relationships are better. Closer. More open. Just more.
There are some people who were afraid to ask anything of me. They knew how hard I tried to please others, and they didn't want to make it harder for me. Now they know I will take care of myself, and that gives them more freedom to take care of themselves.
It turns out, mm e becoming healthier and stronger made all of my relationships healthier and stronger. That was something I wasn't expecting.
A conversation between two people:
Do you WANT to do that?
Sure.When some people say "sure" I don't feel concerned. When you say "sure", this is what I hear: "I can't even think about what I want. HE wants me to do that, so I will." Which means what you are really saying is, "I haven't thought about what I want yet, but I probably don't want to do it."
Of COURSE I don't want to, why would I want to do that?I don't know. Why would you?
I DON'T. But... I'm supposed to do what everyone else wants me to do, that makes me a kind person.No. It just makes you a slave to other people. I can't imagine that he wants you to feel like his slave. I think he probably actually cares about YOU... If you cared about someone, would you want them doing things they didn't want to do JUST because they felt like they had to... or JUST to make you happy... Only a really selfish, abusive, jerk would want you to do something you hated, just to make them happy. How could knowing you were miserable make someone else happy? I don't believe he's that kind of person. Do you?
No. It's just easier to do what other people want than to deal with the anxiety of disappointing them.Really? That's easier? You feel depressed and anxious most of the time. You feel guilty and afraid whenever anyone asks you to do anything (unless you also want to do it, then you feel happy. That's the way it is supposed to be. BOTH people are happy.). It might be easier, but I'd say it's killing you slowly. Besides, the fear of NOT pleasing them makes you avoid people. If you had the freedom to say NO, you'd also have the freedom to say YES. Being with other people would not freak you out as much as it does.
You have nothing to be afraid of. You are good and kind and wonderful. You will still be all of those things when you learn to let yourself do what you want. You will find that you want to do a lot of things for other people, and doing things for others won't wear you out like it does now. It will feel good. It will feel fun and loving and GOOD.
Ok? I can't really think about all that you just said. So, what do I say right now? How do I answer his question today?Say, "No".
Say, "I appreciate you asking, but I am not interested right now. If anything changes I'll let you know".
It doesn't really matter... You can even tell him how hard it is to say no, because you feel like you don't have a choice. You can tell him you feel like you have to do what he wants, but you don't want to... Just be honest with yourself, and understand you are worthy of having your own wants, needs, thoughts, and opinions. You get to decide what you do with your life.
When I was afraid that I couldn't say NO, I had a lot of social anxieties. I was afraid of every man, woman and child. What if they wanted something? I HAD to give them what they wanted. If someone asked for something, I had no choice. If someone looked like they might sort of kind of want something, I had no choice. It was my job to take care of everyone else, and the way I did that was to always do what everyone else wanted. The world was a terribly frightening place.
It WAS really hard to face the anxiety of saying NO, and even more scary to think about what I wanted. It was SO hard. I wasn't sure it was worth it at the time, but it got better. I got used to acknowledging my wants and needs. I got used to doing what I wanted, and they were right! I actually WANT to do a lot of things for and with other people. I am much more kind and giving person now, because I do things from my own heart. I don't do things out of obligation, guilt or fear.
I feel very comfortable in social situations now. If someone wants a hug, I think about what I want and I do that. (I CHOOSE.) If someone asks me a question, I decide what and how much I will share. If someone needs money, I decide how much I can and want to give. The world isn't scary anymore, because I know I can take care of myself.
Other people didn't change. I did!
I learned how to take care of myself. I learned how to respect me. I learned I had a choice. I had the right to say NO to any request, at any time, for any reason.
There are some people who don't care about my wants or needs... They care a lot about their own wants. Some people's needs include controlling others, controlling ME. When I encounter people like this, I find I have to be VERY strong. NO should be enough, but sometimes I have to get distance and space from them too.
There will always be people who don't understand or respect my boundaries. There will always be people who use manipulation, insults, and whatever else they have to do to get what they want. When I'm dealing with people like that, less is more. NO is enough. If I give my reasons, or my thoughts, they tend to use that against me.
There are still people who don't know how to handle it if I don't say YES. They just aren't used to me saying no. At first, they might do some manipulative things, but they won't KEEP doing those things. (This usually happens with family. They've known me all my life, and they just don't know how to handle "the new me". Explaining to them where I have been and why the change makes a lot of sense to them. Their love for me motivates them to become a part of the next group.)
For the most part, all of my relationships are better. Closer. More open. Just more.
There are some people who were afraid to ask anything of me. They knew how hard I tried to please others, and they didn't want to make it harder for me. Now they know I will take care of myself, and that gives them more freedom to take care of themselves.
It turns out, mm e becoming healthier and stronger made all of my relationships healthier and stronger. That was something I wasn't expecting.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
I miss knowing that I could heal the world.
A friend of mine recently discovered a tumor. Cancer. Stage III. Very close to her heart and pressing on her lungs. She's scared. Her family is scared.
I'm scared... What if she isn't okay?
And a bit angry... It doesn't seem fair. This is supposed to be a very happy time for her. She's fought hard to be healthy in mind and body. She's worked on creating beautiful friendships and relationships. She is one of the nicest, sweetest, most giving people I know. She deserves to spend the next few years just laughing, and going on fun cruises, and LIVING.
Mostly, I feel sad. And helpless...
(A warning to those who find peace in fasting: If you don't want to hear my sad and cynical point of view, stop reading now.)
I grew up believing in fasting and prayer. Someone got sick, you could pray for them, and if that didn't make them better, you could just go without food, and THAT would make them better. I could do something. I could help. If I just didn't eat AND prayed hard enough, God wouldn't hurt the people I loved. If I could just go without food, everyone would be safe.
That kind of teaching... taken to an extreme... sounds like a perfect recipe for a pretty serious case of anorexia.
Five years ago, I was really struggling with an eating disorder. I met with my Stake President, because I believed he would know how to help me. He told me that I didn't need to go to therapy - I just needed to fast and pray. If I fasted enough, God would cure me. I am glad I hadn't starved ALL of my brain cells yet. I gave him a shocked look and said, "Do you know what an eating disorder IS? I have fasted a lot, and I'm still struggling. If all I had to do was fast, it wouldn't be a struggle.... because fasting is what I WANT to do. I could be wrong, but I don't think fasting is the answer."
He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well... then I don't know what to tell you. I guess you can TRY therapy, but without the power of fasting... How can God cure you?"
His words played around in my head for a while. They really messed with my brain until I realized I just don't believe that God cares if I go without food or not. It doesn't make him do things for me that he wouldn't have done otherwise. (Like, ya know, God was totally going to let her die, but now, because you haven't eaten for the last twenty-four hours, He's changed His mind. WTF?)
I can go without food for a long time. I get headaches. I get dizzy. I feel sick, but I can ignore all that. I have the ability. It doesn't make me a stronger person. It doesn't make me a better person. It doesn't make me more spiritual. It doesn't make God do what I want. It doesn't make the world a safer place or a better place. It does make me hungry (and dizzy and sick and eventually numb to the world).
Today... I want that belief back. I want to FEEL like I am doing something to help my friend. I want to believe that I can make a difference...
Reality is, all I can do is love her. Be there to support her in whatever ways SHE needs support. Listen if she wants to talk. Go away if she wants to be alone. Send money. Or food. Or even... if her knowing I was fasting for her made HER feel better, I'd do that too. I trust her, and I trust the doctors that she trusts.
I felt a lot of anxiety when I started writing this post. Somehow, writing the last paragraph, I feel peaceful. Accepting things as they are IS very peaceful.
I'm scared... What if she isn't okay?
And a bit angry... It doesn't seem fair. This is supposed to be a very happy time for her. She's fought hard to be healthy in mind and body. She's worked on creating beautiful friendships and relationships. She is one of the nicest, sweetest, most giving people I know. She deserves to spend the next few years just laughing, and going on fun cruises, and LIVING.
Mostly, I feel sad. And helpless...
(A warning to those who find peace in fasting: If you don't want to hear my sad and cynical point of view, stop reading now.)
I grew up believing in fasting and prayer. Someone got sick, you could pray for them, and if that didn't make them better, you could just go without food, and THAT would make them better. I could do something. I could help. If I just didn't eat AND prayed hard enough, God wouldn't hurt the people I loved. If I could just go without food, everyone would be safe.
That kind of teaching... taken to an extreme... sounds like a perfect recipe for a pretty serious case of anorexia.
Five years ago, I was really struggling with an eating disorder. I met with my Stake President, because I believed he would know how to help me. He told me that I didn't need to go to therapy - I just needed to fast and pray. If I fasted enough, God would cure me. I am glad I hadn't starved ALL of my brain cells yet. I gave him a shocked look and said, "Do you know what an eating disorder IS? I have fasted a lot, and I'm still struggling. If all I had to do was fast, it wouldn't be a struggle.... because fasting is what I WANT to do. I could be wrong, but I don't think fasting is the answer."
He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well... then I don't know what to tell you. I guess you can TRY therapy, but without the power of fasting... How can God cure you?"
His words played around in my head for a while. They really messed with my brain until I realized I just don't believe that God cares if I go without food or not. It doesn't make him do things for me that he wouldn't have done otherwise. (Like, ya know, God was totally going to let her die, but now, because you haven't eaten for the last twenty-four hours, He's changed His mind. WTF?)
I can go without food for a long time. I get headaches. I get dizzy. I feel sick, but I can ignore all that. I have the ability. It doesn't make me a stronger person. It doesn't make me a better person. It doesn't make me more spiritual. It doesn't make God do what I want. It doesn't make the world a safer place or a better place. It does make me hungry (and dizzy and sick and eventually numb to the world).
Today... I want that belief back. I want to FEEL like I am doing something to help my friend. I want to believe that I can make a difference...
Reality is, all I can do is love her. Be there to support her in whatever ways SHE needs support. Listen if she wants to talk. Go away if she wants to be alone. Send money. Or food. Or even... if her knowing I was fasting for her made HER feel better, I'd do that too. I trust her, and I trust the doctors that she trusts.
I felt a lot of anxiety when I started writing this post. Somehow, writing the last paragraph, I feel peaceful. Accepting things as they are IS very peaceful.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Happy Fall!
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Thursday, September 13, 2012
My life wasn't his to give, but he gave it to me anyway
My last entry was about my own suicidal thoughts and feelings. BJ pointed out that I could have said so much more. He's right of course...
I tell the rest of this story VERY CAREFULLY.
Please stop reading if you are dealing with your own depression or suicidal thoughts. I don't mean to be triggering, but this could be.
I don't tell this story lightly. There was definitely a time that living for other people kept me alive, and I am grateful for that. I don't know what would have happened if the timing hadn't been perfect. I don't have to know, because the timing was perfect. I'm not giving advice - only telling you MY experience.
On with my story:
I had felt suicidal for as long as I can remember, but when I was 29, I became a different kind of suicidal. I don't know why it happened when it did. I know some of the things leading up to it, but for whatever reason, my brain broke. I can't think of a better way to put it. I felt shattered, broken into a million pieces. I was in so much pain: physical, emotional, mental... every single second felt eternally, despairingly, painfully long. Flashbacks. Weeks and with NO sleep. When I did sleep, nightmares. Pseudo-seizures. Crazy thoughts. Dissociation. Pain so intense - there really are no words to describe it. I wanted the pain to end, and I saw no end in sight.
It was kind of like I had to experience ALL of the pain of being abused. All of the pain that I hadn't been strong enough to feel when it happened, I felt in those few months. Years and years of being used, abused, raped, and beaten... experienced all at once. I eventually got through it all, but in the middle, I didn't know if it would ever end.
I didn't want to stress anyone out or hurt anyone with my pain, so I hid it as much as I could. BJ convinced me to share with him and to talk to him. I'd try to smile, but he'd look deeper. He saw the pain even when I was trying to protect him from it. He created a safe space on the floor (at the time beds and homes weren't safe. Too triggering.) I'd curl up in a ball and he would sit with me for hours. In the worst of it, I'd hear myself crying, "I just want to go home. Please..." He understood that "home" meant heaven or God or someplace without suffering. Death felt like the only way out.
He'd tell me I needed to stay... How lonely he would be if I died. How sad. How much I meant to him. I kept on living, so he wouldn't be lonely. I kept on suffering, so he wouldn't feel sad. And then one day, he stopped saying that.
Instead of begging me to live, he said, "Jen, I love you. I want you to stay alive. SO MUCH. But I won't be selfish. I won't ask you to live for me anymore. This is your life, and your choice."
At first, this thought scared me. If I wasn't living for him, how could I stay alive? If I wasn't living for other people, what reason did I have to live?
I almost said, "Okay. I'm done," but I didn't, because I also felt excitement. Hope. No one had ever told me it was my life before. No one had ever given me permission to live or to die... My life wasn't his to give me... but he gave it to me anyway. MY life? MY choice? What did that even mean?
I had spent every second of everyday worrying about, thinking about, and considering what everyone else needed or wanted. I analyzed and tried to anticipate everyone's needs. I'm not saying I succeeded at my endeavors to take care of everyone, but I never stopped trying. Somehow, he was able to show me that I didn't have to live like that.
The pain didn't go away. Everything was still just as intense, but I felt a sense of peace. If it ever got to be "too much", I had permission to end it. It was MY life. MY choice. It seemed whenever I was faced with the choice after that, I WANTED to live. The freedom to choose death finally gave me the freedom to choose life.
I tell the rest of this story VERY CAREFULLY.
Please stop reading if you are dealing with your own depression or suicidal thoughts. I don't mean to be triggering, but this could be.
I don't tell this story lightly. There was definitely a time that living for other people kept me alive, and I am grateful for that. I don't know what would have happened if the timing hadn't been perfect. I don't have to know, because the timing was perfect. I'm not giving advice - only telling you MY experience.
On with my story:
I had felt suicidal for as long as I can remember, but when I was 29, I became a different kind of suicidal. I don't know why it happened when it did. I know some of the things leading up to it, but for whatever reason, my brain broke. I can't think of a better way to put it. I felt shattered, broken into a million pieces. I was in so much pain: physical, emotional, mental... every single second felt eternally, despairingly, painfully long. Flashbacks. Weeks and with NO sleep. When I did sleep, nightmares. Pseudo-seizures. Crazy thoughts. Dissociation. Pain so intense - there really are no words to describe it. I wanted the pain to end, and I saw no end in sight.
It was kind of like I had to experience ALL of the pain of being abused. All of the pain that I hadn't been strong enough to feel when it happened, I felt in those few months. Years and years of being used, abused, raped, and beaten... experienced all at once. I eventually got through it all, but in the middle, I didn't know if it would ever end.
I didn't want to stress anyone out or hurt anyone with my pain, so I hid it as much as I could. BJ convinced me to share with him and to talk to him. I'd try to smile, but he'd look deeper. He saw the pain even when I was trying to protect him from it. He created a safe space on the floor (at the time beds and homes weren't safe. Too triggering.) I'd curl up in a ball and he would sit with me for hours. In the worst of it, I'd hear myself crying, "I just want to go home. Please..." He understood that "home" meant heaven or God or someplace without suffering. Death felt like the only way out.
He'd tell me I needed to stay... How lonely he would be if I died. How sad. How much I meant to him. I kept on living, so he wouldn't be lonely. I kept on suffering, so he wouldn't feel sad. And then one day, he stopped saying that.
Instead of begging me to live, he said, "Jen, I love you. I want you to stay alive. SO MUCH. But I won't be selfish. I won't ask you to live for me anymore. This is your life, and your choice."
At first, this thought scared me. If I wasn't living for him, how could I stay alive? If I wasn't living for other people, what reason did I have to live?
I almost said, "Okay. I'm done," but I didn't, because I also felt excitement. Hope. No one had ever told me it was my life before. No one had ever given me permission to live or to die... My life wasn't his to give me... but he gave it to me anyway. MY life? MY choice? What did that even mean?
I had spent every second of everyday worrying about, thinking about, and considering what everyone else needed or wanted. I analyzed and tried to anticipate everyone's needs. I'm not saying I succeeded at my endeavors to take care of everyone, but I never stopped trying. Somehow, he was able to show me that I didn't have to live like that.
The pain didn't go away. Everything was still just as intense, but I felt a sense of peace. If it ever got to be "too much", I had permission to end it. It was MY life. MY choice. It seemed whenever I was faced with the choice after that, I WANTED to live. The freedom to choose death finally gave me the freedom to choose life.
Monday, September 10, 2012
It's my life, and DAMMIT, if I'm going to live, I'm going to LIVE!
It's suicide prevention week.
I spent most of my life (29 out of my 33 years) feeling suicidal. "Suicidal Ideation" is what the professionals called it. Suicide sounded like a good idea. I dreamed of my death every single day. I prayed for it every single night. I hoped it would come, and on many days I planned for it. I attempted it once. I lived through it - in part because I immediately started throwing up. Apparently, although I didn't want to live, and didn't believe I deserved to live, my body decided something else. I also tried starving myself, and an addiction to exercise... somehow I survived those too. I'm pretty darn lucky.
I've sat here trying to think of what I would want someone like me to know. The only thing I can think of to say is, "LIVE!"
I wanted to die, because mostly, I felt like I was already dead. I was still breathing, but I wasn't living. I was doing what I thought other people wanted me to do. I was being who I thought other people wanted me to be. Looking back, I can say I barely even existed. That is no way to live... and something deep down inside of me knew it. That is the part of me that kept telling me to either LIVE or DIE. (I'm not a black and white thinker... at all.)
A while ago, I was talking to a friend. He was suicidal. He thought his death would end the craziness he felt, and he figured if he died, he wouldn't have to live with disappointing others. Since I had felt that so strongly myself, I had words that were helpful.
"You go through life trying to make everyone else happy. And then one day, you say, 'I can't live like this anymore!' What do you do? Do you end your life? Or is there another option? For me, at one point I just decided, it's my life, and if I'm going to live, DAMMIT I'm going to LIVE! It's my life, and I can't live it for anyone else anymore."
It sounds strange now... I thought I was selfish. I thought I was SUPPOSED to live my life for everyone else... In fact, that is one of the things that kept me alive for so long. I wasn't willing to put my sister through the hell of my death. I'm glad I had that bond with her, because it kept me alive long enough to find myself. There came a point where even living for her wasn't enough to keep me breathing. There came a moment when I had to love myself enough to live for me.
I understand feeling sad. I understand feeling overwhelmed. I understand wanting out and away from all the hell. I also know what it feels like to find ME. I know how good life can be.
So, my advice is simple. Find a way to survive today, because tomorrow (or sometime in the future) will be worth living for. My life is nothing like I thought it "should" be, and everything that I want it to be.
I spent most of my life (29 out of my 33 years) feeling suicidal. "Suicidal Ideation" is what the professionals called it. Suicide sounded like a good idea. I dreamed of my death every single day. I prayed for it every single night. I hoped it would come, and on many days I planned for it. I attempted it once. I lived through it - in part because I immediately started throwing up. Apparently, although I didn't want to live, and didn't believe I deserved to live, my body decided something else. I also tried starving myself, and an addiction to exercise... somehow I survived those too. I'm pretty darn lucky.
I've sat here trying to think of what I would want someone like me to know. The only thing I can think of to say is, "LIVE!"
I wanted to die, because mostly, I felt like I was already dead. I was still breathing, but I wasn't living. I was doing what I thought other people wanted me to do. I was being who I thought other people wanted me to be. Looking back, I can say I barely even existed. That is no way to live... and something deep down inside of me knew it. That is the part of me that kept telling me to either LIVE or DIE. (I'm not a black and white thinker... at all.)
A while ago, I was talking to a friend. He was suicidal. He thought his death would end the craziness he felt, and he figured if he died, he wouldn't have to live with disappointing others. Since I had felt that so strongly myself, I had words that were helpful.
"You go through life trying to make everyone else happy. And then one day, you say, 'I can't live like this anymore!' What do you do? Do you end your life? Or is there another option? For me, at one point I just decided, it's my life, and if I'm going to live, DAMMIT I'm going to LIVE! It's my life, and I can't live it for anyone else anymore."
It sounds strange now... I thought I was selfish. I thought I was SUPPOSED to live my life for everyone else... In fact, that is one of the things that kept me alive for so long. I wasn't willing to put my sister through the hell of my death. I'm glad I had that bond with her, because it kept me alive long enough to find myself. There came a point where even living for her wasn't enough to keep me breathing. There came a moment when I had to love myself enough to live for me.
I understand feeling sad. I understand feeling overwhelmed. I understand wanting out and away from all the hell. I also know what it feels like to find ME. I know how good life can be.
So, my advice is simple. Find a way to survive today, because tomorrow (or sometime in the future) will be worth living for. My life is nothing like I thought it "should" be, and everything that I want it to be.
Sunday, September 9, 2012
Angela's word revisited (A guest post for Julia)
Julia asked me to do a guest post for her blog.
She gave this post the title, "A Mouse Tells How She Found Her Voice".
When I was in high school, I had a violin teacher that told me at least once a week that I played like a mouse. He'd push me to play stronger. I wanted to please him, and I wanted to play better, but I could NOT figure out how to be less of a mouse.
When I started playing again (two years ago), I had no problem playing out. It seems that I found my voice, and my mousiness went away.
Here is the blogpost I wrote.
Thanks for the invite Julia! I really appreciated revisiting this poem. It meant a lot to me before, and it meant something more this time.
A Mouse Tells How She Found Her Voice
Sometimes, I come across the writings of others, and I wonder how they could have put my thoughts and feelings so perfectly into words. This poem described my journey perfectly:
I don't have a lot to add. The poem says so much, so perfectly... I was an agreeable little girl. I was quiet. I was giving. I was obedient. I was an agreeable adult. I did what I thought I was supposed to. I never said no. I tried not to have wants or desires. If I did have a want or a need, I tried to put other people's wants ahead of my own. I tried to be good and nice and GOOD, and I was miserable. I wanted to die.
Angels came along. They took many different forms. Friends. Books. Horses. Family. Bloggers. Acquaintances. Support groups. Songs. Church leaders. Each one of them gave me little glimpses into what life could be.
I was afraid. I didn't know who I'd be if I wasn't agreeable Jen. The many different angels in their many different forms supported me as I found ME. There was always an angel to show me my next step. They taught me how to live and how to be happy. They were there with me when I was afraid, and reassured me there was nothing to be afraid of. (It turns out I can still be a nice person AND have wants and desires and thoughts of my own.)
Re-reading the poem tonight, this paragraph stuck out to me:
It wasn't that long ago that I felt guilt for having ambitions, feelings, needs or goals. I was not allowed to have money in the bank, so IF I had anything extra, I gave it away.
And an opinion? Especially at the polls? NOT ALLOWED. Mostly because my political opinions are very different than the majority where I live. But... then again... since I now know that my opinions are different, that means I have them. And that feels kind of amazing - especially thinking about where I once was.
She gave this post the title, "A Mouse Tells How She Found Her Voice".
When I was in high school, I had a violin teacher that told me at least once a week that I played like a mouse. He'd push me to play stronger. I wanted to please him, and I wanted to play better, but I could NOT figure out how to be less of a mouse.
When I started playing again (two years ago), I had no problem playing out. It seems that I found my voice, and my mousiness went away.
Here is the blogpost I wrote.
Thanks for the invite Julia! I really appreciated revisiting this poem. It meant a lot to me before, and it meant something more this time.
A Mouse Tells How She Found Her Voice
Sometimes, I come across the writings of others, and I wonder how they could have put my thoughts and feelings so perfectly into words. This poem described my journey perfectly:
When Angela was very youngJulia asked for my thoughts on the poem - what it meant to me in my life.
Age two or three or so,
Her mother and her father
Taught her never to say NO.
They taught her that she must agree
With everything they said,
And if she didn’t, she was spanked
And sent upstairs to bed.
So Angela grew up to be
A most agreeable child;
She was never angry
And she was never wild;
She always shared, she always cared,
She never picked a fight,
And no matter what her parents said,
She thought that they were right.
Angela the Angel did very well in school
And, as you might imagine, she followed every rule;
Her teachers said she was so well-bred,
So quiet and so good,
But how Angela felt inside, they never understood.
Angela had lots of friends
Who liked her for her smile;
They knew she was the kind of gal
Who’d go the extra mile;
And even when she had a cold
And really needed rest,
When someone asked her if she’d help
She always answered Yes.
When Angela was thirty-three, she was a lawyer’s wife.
She had a home and family, and a nice suburban life.
She had a little girl of four,
And a little boy of nine,
And if someone asked her how she felt
She always answered, “Fine.”
But one cold night near Christmastime
When her family was in bed,
She lay awake as awful thoughts went spinning through
her head;
She didn’t know why, and she didn’t know how,
But she wanted her life to end;
So she begged Whoever put her here
To take her back again.
And then she heard, from deep inside,
A voice that was soft and low;
It only said a single word
And the word it said was … NO.
From that moment on, Angela knew
Exactly what she had to do.
Her life depended on that word,
So this is what her loved ones heard:
NO, I just don’t want to;
NO, I don’t agree;
NO, I don't believe that;
NO, that’s wrong for me;
NO, I wanted something else;
NO, that hurt a lot!
NO, I’m tired, and NO I’m busy,
And NO, I’d rather not!
Well, her family found it shocking,
Her friends reacted with surprise;
But Angela was different, you could see it in her eyes;
For they’ve held no meek submission
Since that night three years ago
When Angela the Angel
Got permission to say NO.
Today Angela’s a person first, then a mother and a wife.
She knows where she begins and ends,
She has a separate life.
She has talents and ambitions,
She has feelings, needs and goals.
She has money in the bank and
An opinion at the polls.
And to her boy and girl she says,
“It’s nice when we agree;
But if you can’t say NO, you’ll never grow
To all you’re meant to be.
Because I know I’m sometimes wrong
And because I love you so,
You’ll always be my angels
Even when you tell me NO.”
Barbara K. Bassett
I don't have a lot to add. The poem says so much, so perfectly... I was an agreeable little girl. I was quiet. I was giving. I was obedient. I was an agreeable adult. I did what I thought I was supposed to. I never said no. I tried not to have wants or desires. If I did have a want or a need, I tried to put other people's wants ahead of my own. I tried to be good and nice and GOOD, and I was miserable. I wanted to die.
Angels came along. They took many different forms. Friends. Books. Horses. Family. Bloggers. Acquaintances. Support groups. Songs. Church leaders. Each one of them gave me little glimpses into what life could be.
I was afraid. I didn't know who I'd be if I wasn't agreeable Jen. The many different angels in their many different forms supported me as I found ME. There was always an angel to show me my next step. They taught me how to live and how to be happy. They were there with me when I was afraid, and reassured me there was nothing to be afraid of. (It turns out I can still be a nice person AND have wants and desires and thoughts of my own.)
Re-reading the poem tonight, this paragraph stuck out to me:
She has talents and ambitions,That's ME! I have talents and ambitions, feelings, needs, and goals. There's money in the bank, and I most definitely have an opinion at the polls!
She has feelings, needs and goals.
She has money in the bank and
An opinion at the polls.
It wasn't that long ago that I felt guilt for having ambitions, feelings, needs or goals. I was not allowed to have money in the bank, so IF I had anything extra, I gave it away.
And an opinion? Especially at the polls? NOT ALLOWED. Mostly because my political opinions are very different than the majority where I live. But... then again... since I now know that my opinions are different, that means I have them. And that feels kind of amazing - especially thinking about where I once was.
Sunday, August 26, 2012
Summer's almost over, and we haven't done anything yet!
School's started back up. (This doesn't affect me, except that more than half of my family works for school.) Leaves are changing. (Already?!?!) Nights are getting cold. Fall is here.
I pointed this out to BJ, and he looked sad and said, "I know, and we've hardly done anything!"
Really?
And these are just a few of the pictures of a few of the things...
To which BJ replied, "I guess what I'm saying is there's a whole lot more I want to do, and we're running out of time! But with fall comes a whole bunch of other things I love..."
I pointed this out to BJ, and he looked sad and said, "I know, and we've hardly done anything!"
Really?
 |
| I bought myself new waders. I can't even call them new anymore - they've been all over the place. |
 |
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| A full solar eclipse. Complete with an eclipse party. |
 |
| Riding. New trails. Old trails. All over. |
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| Pride parade |
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| Horse training workshops |
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| Fixing the irrigation sprinklers. |
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| Work. We added several new accounts this summer. |
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| Wild Mustangs |
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| POW WOW |
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| Fishing from a float tube on Strawberry Reservoir |
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| Fishing in Yellowstone National Park |
 |
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| Symphony Concert |
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| Rodeos! (I am going to ride a saddle bronc like this someday!) |
 |
| I shipped out thousands of pounds of ties... |
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| Riding in the ferns. |
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| Riding all over. This is one of my favorite pictures. |
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| Riding. Camping. Fishing in Uinta Mountains. |
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| Albino fish! |
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| I wore a dress. All day long. |
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| More fishing on Strawberry. |
To which BJ replied, "I guess what I'm saying is there's a whole lot more I want to do, and we're running out of time! But with fall comes a whole bunch of other things I love..."
Saturday, August 25, 2012
The "R word" (rape) and stupid things people say
Warning: This post will probably be triggering. I haven't written it yet, but I am about to talk about rape, and I'm angry. I don't plan on censoring myself, so please take care of yourself. Only read this if you are in a good place, and stop (and seek help) if anything I say triggers you.
Rape. It's an incredibly ugly word. It's not a word I like to use. I struggle to use it to describe my own experiences, but I've found that I'm not alone. Many people who have been raped (legal definition of the word) try to use other words to describe their experiences. It has been so hard to allow myself to use that word to describe what happened to me.
Recently, in an effort to convince me to not go to a wedding (that the bride and groom invited me to), I was told that (this person) seeing me would be like me seeing one of the men that raped me. (She blames me for her divorce.) I was confused.
I spend time with my uncles. I would never dream of asking them to not go to an event just because their presence makes me uncomfortable. I have anxiety seeing them... and I have choices about what I do. I can choose not to go to functions where I know they will be. I can choose not to talk to them if I do go. I can choose to be friendly if I feel like it. Whatever I decide to do, I can only choose for me. It has never crossed my mind to ask them to stay home.
My confusion... I know I still have a desire to protect abusers... AND, I want to be healthy. What does that even look like? Is she more "normal"? I don't want to be like she is. Like I said. Confused.
I shared my confusion with BJ... as we talked, and he pointed out what a ridiculous and stupid and completely inaccurate comparison the two things are... My confusion went away, and I got angry.
On most days, I understand that pain is pain... It doesn't matter if someone else's pain is worse than your own, when it hurts, it hurts. On this day, realizing how irrational that comparison is, made my head spin. How DARE she compare anything she has gone through to being raped?!?! (Even IF her accusations were accurate, and I was to blame for her divorce, there's just no comparison. In one analogy, an adult man decided to end his marriage. He left. He has a right to do that. Rape is a violent, violating, horrible thing done TO someone who cannot defend themselves.) She has no fucking clue what she is talking about.
I don't like using the word "rape". I feel like I have no right to that word, but damn it if I am okay with those who have no clue what they are talking about, never experienced anything close to it, and ESPECIALLY trying to use that word to control and manipulate others... No patience, no tolerance, for that kind of bullshit.
That stupid comparison just reminded me of all the stupid people out there.
They THINK they know what they are talking about, but they have no clue.
Todd Akin is currently being blasted for his stupid statement about "legitimate rape". It was a really stupid thing to say. My hope is that he was just incredibly ignorant.
Last year, there was a bill proposed that used the phrase "forcible rape". Do they not understand what RAPE is??
Up until 1993, there was no such thing as marital rape. The traditional definition of rape was, 'sexual intercourse with a female not his wife without her consent'. Basically, a woman had no right to say no to sex with her husband... And he could take it by any force necessary. The law was changed, but not without a fight. People fought over whether a woman had a right to say no to sex with her husband... and that was only twenty years ago.
Did they think about what they were fighting for? Did they care that they were fighting for the rights of a man to rape his wife? Did they think about how it would effect women?
When I started talking about what Larry did, sometimes, I even got brave and used "the R word". Do you know what SEVERAL people said to me?
Sometimes, I'd try to explain how he did it whether I cooperated or not. It WAS a lot easier if I could just force myself to lay there and take it... but sometimes, everything in me fought against it. I'd try to explain the pain, the violence, and some understood... A few never did. They held to the belief that a man could never rape his wife... After all, a woman is given to a man. She is nothing but his property.
Today, some states still have exemptions for married men. For example, in some states a man cannot be prosecuted for forcing sex on his wife if she is impaired and cannot consent. In other words, if she is asleep, and therefore cannot consent, he can force himself on her without fear of the law. Utah law states that if a person can't consent, then it is rape, with no exception for husbands.
There are so many other instances of politicians saying things that are just WRONG. Joking about rape. Trying to minimize and sometimes defend it. Protecting everyone but the victims of rape. I don't feel like going into any more of it now... just know there are a whole lot of really stupid people out there.
As a teenager, I read the book Miracle of Forgiveness. I was full of guilt. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to feel good in my life. I believed my unhappiness was because of sin. (I heard it over and over and over in church.) I wanted to repent, so I could be happy... So I read the book.
There are a few passages in the book that STILL make me want to hurl.
Up until two years ago, I believed my family would prefer I was dead than to know the truth of what happened to me. I believed the fact that I was alive was proof that I was bad...
"It was better that I had died defending my virtue than to live having lost it without a struggle."
I could not tell anyone the truth. I was barely alive already, and I knew I couldn't handle it if they agreed with me, and said, "We wish you would have died."
I found a great therapist. I found BJ. I found many great people and resources that helped me to change the way I think. I learned the truth. (It was NOT my fault. It is much better to cooperate and LIVE than to die. And so on.) I talked to people that understood... I tried to shut out the people who were clueless.
Now what I want to know is, where are all the people who KNOW?
Why aren't there more talks in church about the effects of abuse? Why aren't there more talks about how it isn't the victim's fault AT ALL? Why hasn't the church apologized for publishing such AWFUL things? Why are they still handing out that awful book?
1 in 4 women nationally, 1 in 3 women in Utah. 1 in 6 men nationally, 1 in 5 men in Utah will experience sexual assault in their lifetimes. That means that 33% of the women in any ward in Utah will have been raped or assaulted. With statistics that high, isn't it about time to start talking about it, and I don't mean the people that have no clue... I mean the people that KNOW.
Why are the ignorant people talking about rape? What makes them even THINK they have a right to make a law that effects victims of rape? They don't. Every single one of them needs to stop it. NOW. I don't care that they think they are protecting life... until the conversation is more open and honest and they have a clue about what they're talking about. Shut up. And do some listening. Get educated. Do NOT talk about rape unless you know what you are talking about.
I'll finish with this:
Rape. It's an incredibly ugly word. It's not a word I like to use. I struggle to use it to describe my own experiences, but I've found that I'm not alone. Many people who have been raped (legal definition of the word) try to use other words to describe their experiences. It has been so hard to allow myself to use that word to describe what happened to me.
Recently, in an effort to convince me to not go to a wedding (that the bride and groom invited me to), I was told that (this person) seeing me would be like me seeing one of the men that raped me. (She blames me for her divorce.) I was confused.
I spend time with my uncles. I would never dream of asking them to not go to an event just because their presence makes me uncomfortable. I have anxiety seeing them... and I have choices about what I do. I can choose not to go to functions where I know they will be. I can choose not to talk to them if I do go. I can choose to be friendly if I feel like it. Whatever I decide to do, I can only choose for me. It has never crossed my mind to ask them to stay home.
My confusion... I know I still have a desire to protect abusers... AND, I want to be healthy. What does that even look like? Is she more "normal"? I don't want to be like she is. Like I said. Confused.
I shared my confusion with BJ... as we talked, and he pointed out what a ridiculous and stupid and completely inaccurate comparison the two things are... My confusion went away, and I got angry.
On most days, I understand that pain is pain... It doesn't matter if someone else's pain is worse than your own, when it hurts, it hurts. On this day, realizing how irrational that comparison is, made my head spin. How DARE she compare anything she has gone through to being raped?!?! (Even IF her accusations were accurate, and I was to blame for her divorce, there's just no comparison. In one analogy, an adult man decided to end his marriage. He left. He has a right to do that. Rape is a violent, violating, horrible thing done TO someone who cannot defend themselves.) She has no fucking clue what she is talking about.
"That's like scraping your knee, and thinking you must understand what it feels like to break every bone in your body." ~BJ
I don't like using the word "rape". I feel like I have no right to that word, but damn it if I am okay with those who have no clue what they are talking about, never experienced anything close to it, and ESPECIALLY trying to use that word to control and manipulate others... No patience, no tolerance, for that kind of bullshit.
That stupid comparison just reminded me of all the stupid people out there.
They THINK they know what they are talking about, but they have no clue.
Todd Akin is currently being blasted for his stupid statement about "legitimate rape". It was a really stupid thing to say. My hope is that he was just incredibly ignorant.
"First of all, from what I understand from doctors [pregnancy from rape] is really rare. If it’s a legitimate rape, the female body has ways to try to shut that whole thing down.”What does that mean when a woman DOES get pregnant from rape? It's not legitimate?? Who the hell is he to decide what is legitimate and what is not? To take something so traumatizing, invalidating, and awful already... there are no words to describe how much harm that man could do with just a few stupid words.
Last year, there was a bill proposed that used the phrase "forcible rape". Do they not understand what RAPE is??
Up until 1993, there was no such thing as marital rape. The traditional definition of rape was, 'sexual intercourse with a female not his wife without her consent'. Basically, a woman had no right to say no to sex with her husband... And he could take it by any force necessary. The law was changed, but not without a fight. People fought over whether a woman had a right to say no to sex with her husband... and that was only twenty years ago.
Did they think about what they were fighting for? Did they care that they were fighting for the rights of a man to rape his wife? Did they think about how it would effect women?
When I started talking about what Larry did, sometimes, I even got brave and used "the R word". Do you know what SEVERAL people said to me?
"How could it be rape? You were married."(And I wonder why I have a hard time using that word...)
Sometimes, I'd try to explain how he did it whether I cooperated or not. It WAS a lot easier if I could just force myself to lay there and take it... but sometimes, everything in me fought against it. I'd try to explain the pain, the violence, and some understood... A few never did. They held to the belief that a man could never rape his wife... After all, a woman is given to a man. She is nothing but his property.
Today, some states still have exemptions for married men. For example, in some states a man cannot be prosecuted for forcing sex on his wife if she is impaired and cannot consent. In other words, if she is asleep, and therefore cannot consent, he can force himself on her without fear of the law. Utah law states that if a person can't consent, then it is rape, with no exception for husbands.
There are so many other instances of politicians saying things that are just WRONG. Joking about rape. Trying to minimize and sometimes defend it. Protecting everyone but the victims of rape. I don't feel like going into any more of it now... just know there are a whole lot of really stupid people out there.
As a teenager, I read the book Miracle of Forgiveness. I was full of guilt. I wanted to be happy. I wanted to feel good in my life. I believed my unhappiness was because of sin. (I heard it over and over and over in church.) I wanted to repent, so I could be happy... So I read the book.
There are a few passages in the book that STILL make me want to hurl.
"Your virtue is worth more than your life. Please, young folk, preserve your virtue even if you lose your lives.”
- The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 63
“Also far-reaching is the effect of loss of chastity. Once given or taken or stolen it can never be regained. Even in a forced contact such as rape or incest, the injured one is greatly outraged. If she has not cooperated and contributed to the foul deed, she is of course in a more favorable position. There is no condemnation when there is no voluntary participation. It is better to die in defending one’s virtue than to live having lost it without a struggle.”
- The Miracle of Forgiveness, p. 196
Up until two years ago, I believed my family would prefer I was dead than to know the truth of what happened to me. I believed the fact that I was alive was proof that I was bad...
"It was better that I had died defending my virtue than to live having lost it without a struggle."
I could not tell anyone the truth. I was barely alive already, and I knew I couldn't handle it if they agreed with me, and said, "We wish you would have died."
I found a great therapist. I found BJ. I found many great people and resources that helped me to change the way I think. I learned the truth. (It was NOT my fault. It is much better to cooperate and LIVE than to die. And so on.) I talked to people that understood... I tried to shut out the people who were clueless.
Now what I want to know is, where are all the people who KNOW?
Why aren't there more talks in church about the effects of abuse? Why aren't there more talks about how it isn't the victim's fault AT ALL? Why hasn't the church apologized for publishing such AWFUL things? Why are they still handing out that awful book?
1 in 4 women nationally, 1 in 3 women in Utah. 1 in 6 men nationally, 1 in 5 men in Utah will experience sexual assault in their lifetimes. That means that 33% of the women in any ward in Utah will have been raped or assaulted. With statistics that high, isn't it about time to start talking about it, and I don't mean the people that have no clue... I mean the people that KNOW.
Why are the ignorant people talking about rape? What makes them even THINK they have a right to make a law that effects victims of rape? They don't. Every single one of them needs to stop it. NOW. I don't care that they think they are protecting life... until the conversation is more open and honest and they have a clue about what they're talking about. Shut up. And do some listening. Get educated. Do NOT talk about rape unless you know what you are talking about.
I'll finish with this:
 |
| A friend posted this on Facebook. THIS is how rape should be talked about. THIS is what happens when a woman is raped. (And I know it's not just women who are raped.) This is what happens when a PERSON is raped. It's time people understand what really happens and how truly awful, traumatic, life altering, and sometimes life ENDING it is. |
Friday, August 24, 2012
Processing an apology
About two years ago, maybe a little longer, I got a message on facebook. It was from a person I didn't know, with no profile picture and no friends. The name on the account was Brielle... The message was incredibly nasty and mean. She referenced BJ and circumstances surrounding his life. BJ figured out who sent it, and sent her a text that night. His text just said, "Brielle is a very meanspirited person. She is also misinformed. Next time get more to the story before you go off on someone like that."
He didn't hear back for a year or more. She eventually sent him a text and apologized. She told him where she got her information and that she didn't mean to cause harm. BJ and I both thought, "that was that".
Yesterday, I got another message. This one from her real account. It was short and simple. She said she apologized to (BJ), but the real person she needed to apologize to was me. She said she thought about it often and wished she had never done that.
I felt happy.
I've watched BJ be isolated from friends and family because of the stories that some people have told, and I feel sad for him. She'd already apologized to him though, which mattered to me a lot more than apologizing to me. Watching people hurt him has hurt me, so I very much appreciate the apology for that reason.
I felt angry.
Talking to friends, they helped me figure out that her apology reminded me of the hurt she'd caused. Her apology reminded me of all the messages and phone calls I got around that same time. Former members of my ward, people I didn't know and had never talked to, and they all knew what I needed to do. Hate-filled messages based on HUGE misinformation.
I felt confused.
I was chatting online with my friend David about it. What he said was so perfect, I'm just going to quote him.
So, what now?
***Update***
Since then, I sat down and talked to her for a long time. She apologized again. She also said it was good to see BJ doing things he loved, and she was glad he had someone to share the things he loves with. She turns out to be the kind of person I love talking to: no filter, she talks about whatever pops into her head, she is comfortable in her own skin, funny. She also happens to love the outdoors, camping, and mountains.
I may never talk to her again... It's just nice to know how things can go. Just because someone is judgmental, or mean, doesn't mean they will stay that way... I didn't worry about her in the two years between emails. I didn't think about what she said much. I just moved on, and when she was ready, and she felt like saying something, she did.
He didn't hear back for a year or more. She eventually sent him a text and apologized. She told him where she got her information and that she didn't mean to cause harm. BJ and I both thought, "that was that".
Yesterday, I got another message. This one from her real account. It was short and simple. She said she apologized to (BJ), but the real person she needed to apologize to was me. She said she thought about it often and wished she had never done that.
I felt happy.
I've watched BJ be isolated from friends and family because of the stories that some people have told, and I feel sad for him. She'd already apologized to him though, which mattered to me a lot more than apologizing to me. Watching people hurt him has hurt me, so I very much appreciate the apology for that reason.
I felt angry.
Talking to friends, they helped me figure out that her apology reminded me of the hurt she'd caused. Her apology reminded me of all the messages and phone calls I got around that same time. Former members of my ward, people I didn't know and had never talked to, and they all knew what I needed to do. Hate-filled messages based on HUGE misinformation.
I felt confused.
I was chatting online with my friend David about it. What he said was so perfect, I'm just going to quote him.
"When a message that hateful is received, even if you know it’s not justified, you have to gird up, form a defense, position your view of yourself in such a way as to be able to look over your shoulder and discount it. It requires diligence, effort. When people take back their harsh words, you’re left with a gap between the defense you formed and the tentative embrace being offered. And because the fear initially felt in the face of such hatred was genuine, there’s almost nothing to do but fill that gap with diffidence, wariness."For years, I have been braced against the hateful messages that have come my way. With this one person's apology, I didn't have anything to brace against. I felt disoriented. I also didn't know what to do. I have never met this woman. Other than things BJ has told me, I know nothing about her. An apology makes me feel like I owe her something...
So, what now?
***Update***
Since then, I sat down and talked to her for a long time. She apologized again. She also said it was good to see BJ doing things he loved, and she was glad he had someone to share the things he loves with. She turns out to be the kind of person I love talking to: no filter, she talks about whatever pops into her head, she is comfortable in her own skin, funny. She also happens to love the outdoors, camping, and mountains.
I may never talk to her again... It's just nice to know how things can go. Just because someone is judgmental, or mean, doesn't mean they will stay that way... I didn't worry about her in the two years between emails. I didn't think about what she said much. I just moved on, and when she was ready, and she felt like saying something, she did.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Maybe I'm done being freaked out by weddings
I'm going to a wedding on Friday.
And strangely, I'm excited. For a long time, I have believed that no one should get married. Marriage is an archaic institution. At best, it is a legal agreement. At worst, it is codependent, abusive, and unhealthy. Weddings have freaked me out for a very long time. In my mind, they symbolized the beginning of a horrible hell, but something has changed in the last couple of months... And I blame the bride-to-be.
When I met her, she was going through an awful divorce. She wanted out - He didn't want to let her. All divorce is hell... but in my experience, the hell part was the back and forth before the divorce. In her experience, the hell was the years long legal battle they went through after she had filed for divorce.
I watched her go through having her kids shun her, because they were angry at the choices she was making (combined with the stories he was telling). I watched her decide that she couldn't wait for them to decide to want to be in her life. She loves them and she wants them around, but she's going to live her life and let them live theirs. It both saddened and inspired me. My family didn't make me choose between doing what was best for me and making them happy. Her family did. She chose to do what was best for herself. In my mind, that was the much harder choice.
She started talking about a friend she'd met online. Then she brought him over for dinner. I liked him from the first moment I met him. (He reminds me of my old therapist: easy-going teddy bear, with a tough streak. On several occasions, I have almost called him Paul (therapist's name) instead of by his name.) Although weeks went by between times we saw each other, he remembered what we'd talked about and we just picked up the conversation where we left off. And it was obvious to me that he liked her.
I remember her saying once, "I just want to fall in love. I want to know what it's like to love someone instead of needing someone. I want to know what it feels like to want to be with someone and have them want to be with me." Watching them together, I felt like she was on the path to find what she wanted. That made me happy.
Then they got engaged. Whenever anyone has gotten engaged recently, I have wanted to go off on them about why they shouldn't. I never shared my thoughts, but it was very loud inside my head. This time, I didn't even feel the urge to go off on why I didn't believe in marriage. Instead, I just felt happy for her.
When I told BJ about my internal reaction, he asked if that meant I wanted to get married someday. HELL NO. I don't.
What does it mean? It means I have finally gotten comfortable enough in my own decision, that I don't need to tell other people what to do. I don't need to tell people why MY choice is the better choice. I can just live my life; make my choices; and let them live their lives and make their choices.
So, maybe I can't blame her for my change in perspective. Maybe, the more comfortable we (meaning people) are with our own choices, the less we need to control others.
What if telling other people what to do is just a way to help us make peace with our own choices?
I feel like I just discovered something important, but it makes my brain hurt. At moments like this, I love insights from others. Your thoughts?
And strangely, I'm excited. For a long time, I have believed that no one should get married. Marriage is an archaic institution. At best, it is a legal agreement. At worst, it is codependent, abusive, and unhealthy. Weddings have freaked me out for a very long time. In my mind, they symbolized the beginning of a horrible hell, but something has changed in the last couple of months... And I blame the bride-to-be.
When I met her, she was going through an awful divorce. She wanted out - He didn't want to let her. All divorce is hell... but in my experience, the hell part was the back and forth before the divorce. In her experience, the hell was the years long legal battle they went through after she had filed for divorce.
I watched her go through having her kids shun her, because they were angry at the choices she was making (combined with the stories he was telling). I watched her decide that she couldn't wait for them to decide to want to be in her life. She loves them and she wants them around, but she's going to live her life and let them live theirs. It both saddened and inspired me. My family didn't make me choose between doing what was best for me and making them happy. Her family did. She chose to do what was best for herself. In my mind, that was the much harder choice.
She started talking about a friend she'd met online. Then she brought him over for dinner. I liked him from the first moment I met him. (He reminds me of my old therapist: easy-going teddy bear, with a tough streak. On several occasions, I have almost called him Paul (therapist's name) instead of by his name.) Although weeks went by between times we saw each other, he remembered what we'd talked about and we just picked up the conversation where we left off. And it was obvious to me that he liked her.
I remember her saying once, "I just want to fall in love. I want to know what it's like to love someone instead of needing someone. I want to know what it feels like to want to be with someone and have them want to be with me." Watching them together, I felt like she was on the path to find what she wanted. That made me happy.
Then they got engaged. Whenever anyone has gotten engaged recently, I have wanted to go off on them about why they shouldn't. I never shared my thoughts, but it was very loud inside my head. This time, I didn't even feel the urge to go off on why I didn't believe in marriage. Instead, I just felt happy for her.
When I told BJ about my internal reaction, he asked if that meant I wanted to get married someday. HELL NO. I don't.
What does it mean? It means I have finally gotten comfortable enough in my own decision, that I don't need to tell other people what to do. I don't need to tell people why MY choice is the better choice. I can just live my life; make my choices; and let them live their lives and make their choices.
So, maybe I can't blame her for my change in perspective. Maybe, the more comfortable we (meaning people) are with our own choices, the less we need to control others.
What if telling other people what to do is just a way to help us make peace with our own choices?
I feel like I just discovered something important, but it makes my brain hurt. At moments like this, I love insights from others. Your thoughts?
Monday, August 20, 2012
Sometimes I feel whiny...
For the past six months, a coworker has not been doing her job. She no longer works for the company. (I originally used the word "fired". That wasn't completely accurate.
I said it because this paragraph isn't really the point of this entry
at all. I just wanted to give enough of the back story, so that the rest
of this entry made sense. I fixed it to be more accurate, and I
apologize for my original inaccuracy.) For the past two weeks, I have spent a lot of time cleaning up. Literally. There was more than $5000 worth of invoices that had to be voided out, merchandise put away, and corrected in the inventory.
A few days ago, when I was dealing with the biggest part of the mess, I posted on facebook, "Who wants to listen to me complain? I'm feeling whiny."
I chose my words carefully, because I was just feeling whiny. It's not like I was dealing with a REAL problem... I knew that, but sometimes... it makes the job easier if I can whine for a minute.
The response on facebook blew me away. I wasn't expecting the love and concern that I got.
I tried to explain to my friends that I was just feeling sorry for myself, being whiny, and that I was fine... I tried to explain to them that it was just a feeling of, "I don't wanna," but they just wanted to be there for me. (My Grandma called my dad the next day just to make sure I was okay.)
I felt guilty that I somehow made them believe I wasn't okay. But, what surprised me the most was how loved I felt.
Most of the people on facebook have no idea the things I've been through. They have no idea the hiding I've done or the secrets I've kept. They don't know about all of the times I stayed quiet when I really needed to scream and swear and complain and (what I would have called) whine.
I still am pretty guarded about asking for help, or sharing "too much".
And then, one night, in a moment of, "I don't wanna," I reached out, and many people reached back.
I don't know what to say about that, other than, "Weird. And cool. Very cool."
A few days ago, when I was dealing with the biggest part of the mess, I posted on facebook, "Who wants to listen to me complain? I'm feeling whiny."
I chose my words carefully, because I was just feeling whiny. It's not like I was dealing with a REAL problem... I knew that, but sometimes... it makes the job easier if I can whine for a minute.
The response on facebook blew me away. I wasn't expecting the love and concern that I got.
I tried to explain to my friends that I was just feeling sorry for myself, being whiny, and that I was fine... I tried to explain to them that it was just a feeling of, "I don't wanna," but they just wanted to be there for me. (My Grandma called my dad the next day just to make sure I was okay.)
I felt guilty that I somehow made them believe I wasn't okay. But, what surprised me the most was how loved I felt.
Most of the people on facebook have no idea the things I've been through. They have no idea the hiding I've done or the secrets I've kept. They don't know about all of the times I stayed quiet when I really needed to scream and swear and complain and (what I would have called) whine.
I still am pretty guarded about asking for help, or sharing "too much".
And then, one night, in a moment of, "I don't wanna," I reached out, and many people reached back.
I don't know what to say about that, other than, "Weird. And cool. Very cool."
Saturday, August 11, 2012
I read a book: Coming Home: A Mormon's Return to Faith
I just finished the book Coming Home: A Mormon's Return to Faith
.
The topic interested me. How does one leave the LDS church, and then go back fifteen years later?
WHY would someone go back?
I almost stopped reading after the first chapter, because it wasn't anything that I hadn't heard at church. The reasons she gave for leaving the church were the stereotypical reasons for leaving... Offended. Angry. Hurt. Lost the spirit. Stopped doing what she was supposed to do.
That's not why I left, and I've talked to a lot of people who have left. Those aren't the reasons they left. John Dehlin has done a lot of research on why people question the LDS church, and that's not what he has found.
She said she was writing the book to those who are questioning the church... Those that have left or are struggling... But if that is her audience, then why did she use phrases like "anti-mormon rhetoric"? Language like that reinforces harmful stereotypes about those that have left. It reinforces members ability to dismiss the "apostates". It definitely doesn't feel helpful to those that are questioning and trying to reconcile themselves with the religion.
I would say her real target audience is LDS people who don't want to know why people leave, who don't want to understand anything outside of their world. It is a story of hope for those that cannot accept their loved ones' new beliefs. As one who has left, others keeping that "hope" would be insanely frustrating.
If my family had refused to listen to ME and accept ME, I'm not sure what kind of relationship I would have with them. It definitely wouldn't be as good as it is now. It would be strained at best, but more likely non-existent. I had to fight too hard to learn to love and accept myself. Having family members also fighting against me wouldn't have worked. In order to survive, I would have had to limit or completely cut off family interactions.
Her experiences were the opposite of mine. She left the church, struggled and struggled and struggled, and then came back and everything was happy. I struggled and struggled and struggled to make church fit me. I fought, I cried, I nearly died, and then I finally left. Everything got better. Almost overnight the world became bright. I didn't feel like I lost God. I felt like I followed God and was lead out. I know that wasn't her experience, so she couldn't write about it... I just want my experience out there too. Leaving was the best thing I could have done for myself.
The stereotypical "TBM" might appreciate this book, but I wouldn't recommend it to them. I wouldn't want people reading this book, and then not listening to their loved ones. This is one woman's story. Her story is important, but it is my fear that people will try to make her story universal. (Similar to what happened with the Josh Weed blog not too long ago.)
There is nothing wrong with going back to the church after leaving it. There is nothing wrong with leaving it. Or staying in it. Or never joining it. I wish that had been more the message of the book... which is to say if I ever write a book, that will be MY message.
. The topic interested me. How does one leave the LDS church, and then go back fifteen years later?
WHY would someone go back?
I almost stopped reading after the first chapter, because it wasn't anything that I hadn't heard at church. The reasons she gave for leaving the church were the stereotypical reasons for leaving... Offended. Angry. Hurt. Lost the spirit. Stopped doing what she was supposed to do.
That's not why I left, and I've talked to a lot of people who have left. Those aren't the reasons they left. John Dehlin has done a lot of research on why people question the LDS church, and that's not what he has found.
She said she was writing the book to those who are questioning the church... Those that have left or are struggling... But if that is her audience, then why did she use phrases like "anti-mormon rhetoric"? Language like that reinforces harmful stereotypes about those that have left. It reinforces members ability to dismiss the "apostates". It definitely doesn't feel helpful to those that are questioning and trying to reconcile themselves with the religion.
I would say her real target audience is LDS people who don't want to know why people leave, who don't want to understand anything outside of their world. It is a story of hope for those that cannot accept their loved ones' new beliefs. As one who has left, others keeping that "hope" would be insanely frustrating.
If my family had refused to listen to ME and accept ME, I'm not sure what kind of relationship I would have with them. It definitely wouldn't be as good as it is now. It would be strained at best, but more likely non-existent. I had to fight too hard to learn to love and accept myself. Having family members also fighting against me wouldn't have worked. In order to survive, I would have had to limit or completely cut off family interactions.
Her experiences were the opposite of mine. She left the church, struggled and struggled and struggled, and then came back and everything was happy. I struggled and struggled and struggled to make church fit me. I fought, I cried, I nearly died, and then I finally left. Everything got better. Almost overnight the world became bright. I didn't feel like I lost God. I felt like I followed God and was lead out. I know that wasn't her experience, so she couldn't write about it... I just want my experience out there too. Leaving was the best thing I could have done for myself.
The stereotypical "TBM" might appreciate this book, but I wouldn't recommend it to them. I wouldn't want people reading this book, and then not listening to their loved ones. This is one woman's story. Her story is important, but it is my fear that people will try to make her story universal. (Similar to what happened with the Josh Weed blog not too long ago.)
There is nothing wrong with going back to the church after leaving it. There is nothing wrong with leaving it. Or staying in it. Or never joining it. I wish that had been more the message of the book... which is to say if I ever write a book, that will be MY message.
Sunday, August 5, 2012
From Present (Future?) Me to Past Me: The only way out is through.
I started this blog for two reasons:
For me. I wanted a place where I could write down my thoughts, my feelings, and just be me. I was so used to hiding behind my own smile and pretending to be someone I wasn't, it was nice to just be able to write down my own thoughts.
For someone like me. When I started my journey to healing, I searched the internet looking for someone who had been through abuse and PTSD and survived. I wanted to find someone who could tell me I was going to be okay. There was a way out. I didn't find anything like that. When things got really bad, I'd think about what it would be like to have someone to talk to.
I pictured meeting me in the future: Future Me had been through hell. Future Me had survived months of not sleeping, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Night terrors, Pseudo-seizures, Dissociation, Pain, Body Memories, Crazy thinking, All of the emotions, The heartache, The loneliness, The suicidal thoughts and plans, The eating disorder, and everything else. Future Me had not only survived, she was happy and healthy and loving life. She would tell me it was going to be okay. She'd tell me there was a way out, and that I just needed to keep walking this path. She'd tell me I'd be okay.
I pictured myself as Future Me. Writing in my blog, and someone like Past Me would happen upon it and feel less alone. Less afraid. Hopeful.
So, for that person, I'd like to say:
If you think you are being selfish for not taking someone's abuse, you're wrong. If you think that you have to take abuse and ridicule because that makes you a good (wife, husband, person, etc.), you are wrong. If someone tells you they love you but you have to change, that is not love. That is manipulation. If someone tells you that no one could love you, they are lying!! That is abuse. Don't stick around and take it. There are people who will love YOU. I don't know who they are or where you will find them, and I know they exist.
You've spent a long time adapting to abuse. You've convinced yourself that's what you deserve... or that is love... or making excuses for the other person... or making excuses why you have to stay... or...
The truth is, there is a whole world out there that is light and beautiful and wonderful.
You know how to find your way. It feels impossible, but the truth is all there inside you. Trust yourself. You know the way.
And when I was in the worst of it, I repeated this line to myself over and over and over:
The only way out is through. The only way out is through. The only way out is through.
It worked. I got through it. I'm happy. I'm healthy. I am way more than okay.
You'll be okay too.
For me. I wanted a place where I could write down my thoughts, my feelings, and just be me. I was so used to hiding behind my own smile and pretending to be someone I wasn't, it was nice to just be able to write down my own thoughts.
For someone like me. When I started my journey to healing, I searched the internet looking for someone who had been through abuse and PTSD and survived. I wanted to find someone who could tell me I was going to be okay. There was a way out. I didn't find anything like that. When things got really bad, I'd think about what it would be like to have someone to talk to.
I pictured meeting me in the future: Future Me had been through hell. Future Me had survived months of not sleeping, Flashbacks, Nightmares, Night terrors, Pseudo-seizures, Dissociation, Pain, Body Memories, Crazy thinking, All of the emotions, The heartache, The loneliness, The suicidal thoughts and plans, The eating disorder, and everything else. Future Me had not only survived, she was happy and healthy and loving life. She would tell me it was going to be okay. She'd tell me there was a way out, and that I just needed to keep walking this path. She'd tell me I'd be okay.
I pictured myself as Future Me. Writing in my blog, and someone like Past Me would happen upon it and feel less alone. Less afraid. Hopeful.
So, for that person, I'd like to say:
If you think you are being selfish for not taking someone's abuse, you're wrong. If you think that you have to take abuse and ridicule because that makes you a good (wife, husband, person, etc.), you are wrong. If someone tells you they love you but you have to change, that is not love. That is manipulation. If someone tells you that no one could love you, they are lying!! That is abuse. Don't stick around and take it. There are people who will love YOU. I don't know who they are or where you will find them, and I know they exist.
You've spent a long time adapting to abuse. You've convinced yourself that's what you deserve... or that is love... or making excuses for the other person... or making excuses why you have to stay... or...
The truth is, there is a whole world out there that is light and beautiful and wonderful.
You know how to find your way. It feels impossible, but the truth is all there inside you. Trust yourself. You know the way.
And when I was in the worst of it, I repeated this line to myself over and over and over:
The only way out is through. The only way out is through. The only way out is through.
It worked. I got through it. I'm happy. I'm healthy. I am way more than okay.
You'll be okay too.
Thursday, July 26, 2012
Thanks for coming to my house. I'd love for you to come again.
My parents came to my house for dinner tonight.
I was anxious inviting them over. I was a tiny bit anxious while they were here. The anxiety really hit after they left.
BJ asked why I was so anxious... What was I afraid of?
Good question. I think I'll write about it. (So, here I am. Writing about it.)
They've been to my house several times before. I feel like I should be comfortable having them over... But still, every time I invite someone into my home, my world, my safe space, it's scary. I feel afraid that they won't approve. I feel afraid that I'll like having them here, and they will never come back, and that will hurt. I just feel generally afraid of something that doesn't really make sense. Even to me.
They've told me they love me and they want me to be happy, and still I feel like if they don't approve of me, I'm not allowed to be happy. That's a lot of pressure to put on them. That's a lot of pressure to put on me. OF COURSE I'd be anxious if I believed that. I'd try to be practically perfect. In every way. All the while knowing I'm not. Also knowing that to try to be perfect is crazy and impossible, and yet I can't stop myself from trying.
I'm much better than I once was. Mostly all I have left is a remnant of my old fears and perfectionisms. Having people come to my home though, is like a whole new part of my brain that has to be trained. (I'm like a horse. You can work with a horse forever on one side of his body, and when you move to the other side, it will be like totally starting over.You have to work both sides of his body and his brain.)
I'm babbling a bit. I'm still trying to figure out my own emotions... feeling a bit raw. And happy.
I no longer want their approval (mostly). Mostly, I want them to know how happy and real I am, and I want them to share in that with me. Which they did. They do. That makes me grateful and happy.
To my parents:
I haven't quite figured out how to say the words in person yet... Forgive me for saying this on a public blog. I'm really grateful you came to my house. It was a fun night. Despite the anxiety, I loved planning for your visit. (I even loved cooking dinner! Weird!) I enjoyed talking about camping, hiking and scouting. I enjoyed the stories about Hawaii and lack of oxygen. I enjoyed having you here, sitting on the porch, watching the horses and goats, and eating BBQ and peanut butter bars. I liked sharing my world with you.
Thank you for coming to my house. I'd love for you to come again.
I was anxious inviting them over. I was a tiny bit anxious while they were here. The anxiety really hit after they left.
BJ asked why I was so anxious... What was I afraid of?
Good question. I think I'll write about it. (So, here I am. Writing about it.)
They've been to my house several times before. I feel like I should be comfortable having them over... But still, every time I invite someone into my home, my world, my safe space, it's scary. I feel afraid that they won't approve. I feel afraid that I'll like having them here, and they will never come back, and that will hurt. I just feel generally afraid of something that doesn't really make sense. Even to me.
They've told me they love me and they want me to be happy, and still I feel like if they don't approve of me, I'm not allowed to be happy. That's a lot of pressure to put on them. That's a lot of pressure to put on me. OF COURSE I'd be anxious if I believed that. I'd try to be practically perfect. In every way. All the while knowing I'm not. Also knowing that to try to be perfect is crazy and impossible, and yet I can't stop myself from trying.
I'm much better than I once was. Mostly all I have left is a remnant of my old fears and perfectionisms. Having people come to my home though, is like a whole new part of my brain that has to be trained. (I'm like a horse. You can work with a horse forever on one side of his body, and when you move to the other side, it will be like totally starting over.You have to work both sides of his body and his brain.)
I'm babbling a bit. I'm still trying to figure out my own emotions... feeling a bit raw. And happy.
I no longer want their approval (mostly). Mostly, I want them to know how happy and real I am, and I want them to share in that with me. Which they did. They do. That makes me grateful and happy.
To my parents:
I haven't quite figured out how to say the words in person yet... Forgive me for saying this on a public blog. I'm really grateful you came to my house. It was a fun night. Despite the anxiety, I loved planning for your visit. (I even loved cooking dinner! Weird!) I enjoyed talking about camping, hiking and scouting. I enjoyed the stories about Hawaii and lack of oxygen. I enjoyed having you here, sitting on the porch, watching the horses and goats, and eating BBQ and peanut butter bars. I liked sharing my world with you.
Thank you for coming to my house. I'd love for you to come again.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
My theme song: (Ode to Joy: Flash Mob)
A few days ago, a friend asked me the question, "What's your theme song? What song do you want to play whenever you enter the room?"
My answer: "The theme from Beethoven's 9th symphony. (Ode to Joy) and depending on the moment, it would be played on the solo violin, or the whole orchestra, and maybe sometimes on a kazoo..."
I didn't consider a flash mob style orchestra... but I might have to add this to my list.
How can you not be happy when you listen to this music?
It makes my whole body, soul, spirit, ALL of me SING!
My answer: "The theme from Beethoven's 9th symphony. (Ode to Joy) and depending on the moment, it would be played on the solo violin, or the whole orchestra, and maybe sometimes on a kazoo..."
I didn't consider a flash mob style orchestra... but I might have to add this to my list.
How can you not be happy when you listen to this music?
It makes my whole body, soul, spirit, ALL of me SING!
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Wicked!!!
It was amazing.
I love the music. I love the humor. I love the story.
I had lots of thoughts while watching:
As l I was watching the cast take bows, I realized the stars of the show are both female. Although there is romance in the story, the romance is not THE story. I like that.
The whole play is about why they called the wicked witch Wicked. She wasn't, but it served the "other side" to have a villain. She saw injustices. She wanted to help the Animals. The wizard was the one hurting the Animals. He wanted her power, but when she wouldn't give it to him, he made her into the villain. The whole land of Oz united under the wizard to hunt down the wicked one.
I thought of how it felt leaving the church. They call those of us that leave apostates, anti-mormon, angry, bitter, and often even evil or wicked. What if instead of villainizing people, they listened to what they had to say? Couldn't they then make changes that make them into a better organization?
I thought of all of the politicking that goes on. It's ALL about "us" vs. "them". I feel frustrated trying to learn about Obamacare, because there are two sides that are both very extreme. Neither one makes sense. (It will not save the country, and it will not end the country.) I feel frustrated with the elections, because the politicians are ALL trying to get people to like them so they can gain power. All of them believe they can help and serve the country. None of them are "all good" or "all bad", but they all want you to believe "I am good. My opponent is bad."
In Wicked, they let you see the motivations of pretty much everyone. Everyone wants to do "good" and they believe they are. Even the wizard. He was trying to give the people what they wanted. He believed his lies were helpful. (All that I can think of is the quote, "Some things that are true are not very useful." vs. the quote from the play, "Truth isn't facts or reason, it's just what everyone agrees on!")
He explains it in his song, Wonderful:
WIZARD: See - I never had a family of my own. So, I guess I just - wanted to give the citizens of Oz everything.
ELPHABA(spoken) So you lied to them.
WIZARD (spoken) Elphaba, where I'm from, we believe all sorts of things that aren't true. We call it - "history."
(sung) A man's called a traitor - or liberator
A rich man's a thief - or philanthropist
Is one a crusader - or ruthless invader?
It's all in which label
Is able to persist
There are precious few at ease
With moral ambiguities
So we act as though they don't exist
People ARE more comfortable believing that everything is either good or bad. Right or wrong. But that is NOT reality. It's all just an unhealthy game of pretend. Reality is, "It's not good. It's not bad. It just IS."
(Side note. This makes my think of my high school history teacher. He did an awesome job of helping me to understand that there are way more sides to the story than what most history books tell you. The founding fathers were traitors to their country. They were radicals. My teacher even compared them to the man who bombed the WTC in Oklahoma. Killing people is acceptable if your side "wins".)
Defying Gravity is one of my favorite songs. I have loved the lyrics for a long time.
GLINDA (spoken) Elphie, listen to me. Just say you're sorry:
(sung) You can still be with the Wizard
What you've worked and waited for
You can have all you ever wanted:
ELPHABA (spoken) I know: (sung) But I don't want it - No - I can't want itGlinda tells her she can still have all the things she wanted, but she doesn't want it anymore. She has seen "behind the curtain", and it changed her. Even if she wanted to, she can't go back to being the person she was. That felt familiar. I don't want what I used to want, because I have been changed.
Anymore:Something has changed within me
Something is not the same
I'm through with playing by the rules
Of someone else's game."
I LOVE these lines. It's "too late to go back to sleep", so I'll trust my instincts. Amazing things happen when you can just trust your instincts.
"Too late for second-guessing
Too late to go back to sleep
It's time to trust my instincts
Close my eyes: and leap!"
"I'm through accepting limits ''cause someone says they're soI have repeated these lines to myself over and over and over.
Some things I cannot change
But till I try, I'll never know!
Too long I've been afraid of
Losing love I guess I've lost
Well, if that's love It comes at much too high a cost!"
I'm not going to pretend to be someone I'm not, just so that people will love me. "If that's love, it comes at much too high a cost!" And realizing that if the only kind of love I can have from people comes if I am pretending or pandering to them, I've already lost love, because that isn't love.
I loved watching the process that Elphaba goes through as well as the process that Glinda goes through.
Just AWESOME.
The whole show was amazing.
I loved looking forward to going to the show for the last five months. (My ticket was a birthday present.)
I loved the company I was with.
SO grateful I got to go!
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Mormon Matters: Abuse and the Forgiveness Dilemma
A few weeks ago, Mormon Matters did a podcast titled "Abuse and the Forgiveness Dilemma". I don't usually pay much attention to Mormon podcasts, but this one caught my eye.
This is a paragraph from the description of the podcast. It kind of made me sob.
And then I remembered what the people in my life said YEARS ago:
(Here's an excerpt from the post I linked to.)
Their words and their insights were invaluable to me, probably saved my life, and definitely made my life more livable.
So, knowing that was what this podcast was about, I both really wanted to listen and wanted nothing to do with it. A few months ago, I wrote about wanting to dump the baggage that the word forgiveness had for me. Listening to the podcast felt like a next step.
They started by talking Elder Uchtdorf's talk.
I didn't listen to the talk, but I read it because it got so much attention. This was the response I wrote in my journal:
Just a few thoughts as I listened:
(Sorry if it's a bit disjointed, these are the notes I took while I was listening.)
It is not appropriate for a mortal to try to absorb the consequences of another person's actions. If I do something to protect an abuser from the consequences of their choices, that is what I am doing. It isn't my job to protect them, it also isn't my job to punish them.
Forgiveness is NOT about the other person... It is NOT doing things to make the abuser's life better or easier... Forgiveness is about ME. It's about me leaving my pain behind. It's about me finding peace.
I've heard that thought before - we don't forgive for THEM, we forgive for ourselves...
I have also experienced abusive people asking for forgiveness because it made THEIR life easier, better, less painful... "Forgive me and just do what I want you to do." That is NOT forgiveness. It is manipulation. (And if a person is apologizing in this matter, it is not a real apology. A real apology ESPECIALLY in the case of abuse, will show more concern for the person that they hurt than for themselves. I wrote about what it felt like to get a real apology here.)
I can be Christlike and be forgiving, and yet not open my arms to an abuser that continues to cause me mental (or physical) anguish. Forgiveness is not about sacrificing your personal boundaries... I still get to choose who and what I want in my life. I ALWAYS get to choose. Forgiving doesn't take away my freedom - real forgiveness gives me more freedom.
Asking the survivor to forgive the perpetrator as part of the survivor "being a good person" is another way to make the survivor responsible for the abuse. That's WRONG. The survivor is not and never will be responsible for the abuse.
Shame. Shame is such a huge and horrible part of abuse. I have long believed that the beliefs I formed about myself and the world around me were FAR MORE damaging than all of the bruises or physical symptoms. Talks like Uchtdorf's only added to the shame.
If you believe what they say at church, "I am worse, because I can't forgive," and you KNOW you are a defective, bad, horrible person, you work so hard to be "good". You want so BADLY to be good, that you just keep signing up for more abuse... I KNOW that what they did was HORRIBLE, and I don't want to be like that...so I try to be nice, and kind, and loving, and serve even those that hurt me. That is the OPPOSITE of what a healthy person does.
Saying that "not forgiving" is worse than the offense, puts people on equal footing when they shouldn't be on equal footing. Abuse is not the same as the "just being human and needing compassion".
It is GOD's responsibility to be the judge over another person. The "sin" is when I decide what another person should or should not do, and try to control them. Making my own choices about where I spend my time is NOT a sin, but telling another person they have to change or do what I want IS.
"Being judgmental is a sin. Choosing to move on or separate yourself from a relationship is NOT."
Judging abuse as bad, is also okay.
Is saying, "I can't stand that person, and the things they have done to ME," even close to the same as saying, "I hate the choices they are making with their life. I wish they wouldn't drink alcohol, or live with a woman they aren't married to, or have a tattoo."?
Those two statements are totally different, but it has taken me a long time to understand the difference.
Sometimes the best thing to do is GO. Here's an example from the scriptures.
Nephi left. He got away from Laman and Lemuel. He didn't stay and take more abuse.
Follow your heart, your divine intuition, it's the only way to live, heal, and BE.
There are situations when anger IS righteous. Anger can protect us.
We can't paint with a broad brush. The journey and the process is VERY individual.
Suggestions on how to be helpful if someone trusts you enough to share their story:
God brings comfort and love. Total comfort and love. Anything else just isn't God.
I love what she said at the end... about her friend... She couldn't handle touch, so her friend sat at the edge of the bed and held her big toe. SO grateful for BJ. He'd touch my head. The only place on my body that I could handle being touched was my head, and then my hands, and then I wanted to be held. So, he held me for hours and hours while my body and my mind healed.
You don't have to forgive, at least not in the way the church teaches forgiveness, in order to move on. It is not required of you.
This is a paragraph from the description of the podcast. It kind of made me sob.
"But what about abuse victims? What about those who have been physically, sexually, emotionally abused—sometimes relentlessly and violently? How would they hear such messages? Is a warning that they must forgive their abusers, rapists, torturers or else they are even worse sinners than them a good one to hear? Can certain messages that are wonderful in most cases (and no one is imagining that abuse victims were on President Uchtdorf’s mind when he gave his remarks) be heard in spiritually and emotionally damaging ways by those whose self image distorted by internalized shame over the abuse they received as a child or whose lives are in danger or souls are being warped by abuse even in the present? Can such messages actually re-victimize these people? Are there circumstances in which even the beautiful message of “Families Are Forever” be heard as a threat—heard in such a way that a person might express a deliberate choice to live in hell rather than be forced to associate with their abuser(s) in heaven? The answer is yes."My first thought was, "Where the hell were you people when I needed you?!?"
And then I remembered what the people in my life said YEARS ago:
(Here's an excerpt from the post I linked to.)
"She gave an analogy that hit me as absolute truth.
She is giving a presentation on eating disorders to 70 RA's tomorrow. Knowing that she is talking to people who like to help others, and are college students, there will be about five people in the audience with disordered eating. She was worried about giving certain suggestions or saying certain things, because she didn't want to say something that would hurt those five. She came to the conclusion that the sixty-five needed to hear what she had to say, and she had to hope that the five would be okay.
Just because they are saying it in conference, does not mean the message was to me personally.
She said, "If I told you I was falling apart, and I really needed you here," and I finished her thought, "I would be there tomorrow... In fact, I have thought about getting on a plane when you were sick, even when you didn't ask, because I love you and I wanted you to have a friend."
At the end of President Monson's talk, I also got a text from BJ:
"He was not talking to you. I listened to the entire talk. Not once did he say, 'Hey Jen, listen up!' or 'Now I am want to talk to victims of abuse that can't say no to people yet,' He didn't say anything close to that.""
Their words and their insights were invaluable to me, probably saved my life, and definitely made my life more livable.
So, knowing that was what this podcast was about, I both really wanted to listen and wanted nothing to do with it. A few months ago, I wrote about wanting to dump the baggage that the word forgiveness had for me. Listening to the podcast felt like a next step.
They started by talking Elder Uchtdorf's talk.
I didn't listen to the talk, but I read it because it got so much attention. This was the response I wrote in my journal:
"The thing about talks like this is:As I listened to the podcast, I felt like they described my thoughts on forgiveness, love, boundaries, and choices perfectly.
Selfish assholes hear it, and think, "Yes. Everyone else should be more loving, accepting, and forgiving of me. Why doesn't (doormat) be more loving and just do what I want?"
Self-sacrificing doormats hear it, and they think, "Yes. I need to be more loving and accepting. Next time (asshole) says something awful, I will tell him that I love him and just do what he wants."
It's like the perfect recipe for a disastrous relationship."
Just a few thoughts as I listened:
(Sorry if it's a bit disjointed, these are the notes I took while I was listening.)
It is not appropriate for a mortal to try to absorb the consequences of another person's actions. If I do something to protect an abuser from the consequences of their choices, that is what I am doing. It isn't my job to protect them, it also isn't my job to punish them.
Forgiveness is NOT about the other person... It is NOT doing things to make the abuser's life better or easier... Forgiveness is about ME. It's about me leaving my pain behind. It's about me finding peace.
I've heard that thought before - we don't forgive for THEM, we forgive for ourselves...
I have also experienced abusive people asking for forgiveness because it made THEIR life easier, better, less painful... "Forgive me and just do what I want you to do." That is NOT forgiveness. It is manipulation. (And if a person is apologizing in this matter, it is not a real apology. A real apology ESPECIALLY in the case of abuse, will show more concern for the person that they hurt than for themselves. I wrote about what it felt like to get a real apology here.)
I can be Christlike and be forgiving, and yet not open my arms to an abuser that continues to cause me mental (or physical) anguish. Forgiveness is not about sacrificing your personal boundaries... I still get to choose who and what I want in my life. I ALWAYS get to choose. Forgiving doesn't take away my freedom - real forgiveness gives me more freedom.
Asking the survivor to forgive the perpetrator as part of the survivor "being a good person" is another way to make the survivor responsible for the abuse. That's WRONG. The survivor is not and never will be responsible for the abuse.
Shame. Shame is such a huge and horrible part of abuse. I have long believed that the beliefs I formed about myself and the world around me were FAR MORE damaging than all of the bruises or physical symptoms. Talks like Uchtdorf's only added to the shame.
If you believe what they say at church, "I am worse, because I can't forgive," and you KNOW you are a defective, bad, horrible person, you work so hard to be "good". You want so BADLY to be good, that you just keep signing up for more abuse... I KNOW that what they did was HORRIBLE, and I don't want to be like that...so I try to be nice, and kind, and loving, and serve even those that hurt me. That is the OPPOSITE of what a healthy person does.
Saying that "not forgiving" is worse than the offense, puts people on equal footing when they shouldn't be on equal footing. Abuse is not the same as the "just being human and needing compassion".
It is GOD's responsibility to be the judge over another person. The "sin" is when I decide what another person should or should not do, and try to control them. Making my own choices about where I spend my time is NOT a sin, but telling another person they have to change or do what I want IS.
"Being judgmental is a sin. Choosing to move on or separate yourself from a relationship is NOT."
Judging abuse as bad, is also okay.
Is saying, "I can't stand that person, and the things they have done to ME," even close to the same as saying, "I hate the choices they are making with their life. I wish they wouldn't drink alcohol, or live with a woman they aren't married to, or have a tattoo."?
Those two statements are totally different, but it has taken me a long time to understand the difference.
Sometimes the best thing to do is GO. Here's an example from the scriptures.
Nephi left. He got away from Laman and Lemuel. He didn't stay and take more abuse.
Follow your heart, your divine intuition, it's the only way to live, heal, and BE.
There are situations when anger IS righteous. Anger can protect us.
We can't paint with a broad brush. The journey and the process is VERY individual.
Suggestions on how to be helpful if someone trusts you enough to share their story:
- Don't make assumptions.
- Ask questions.
- Do NOT give me advice.
- Don't presume you know these relationships better than I do.
- Don't presume you know what I should do better than I do.
- Reaffirm my worth. I don't need you to reaffirm my courage. Don't marvel at me or my strength...
- Don't presume what will happen, in this life or the next... Talking about a "forever family" is not always a comforting thing. (Although my family has been great, one of the big things that got me thinking about the church was when I looked at some of the people at church. I thought if I had to spend eternity with them, that would not be heaven, that would be hell.)
"They know they are going to the celestial kingdom. I want nothing to do with them. If this is what heaven will be like, I'd rather go to hell."
- When I said that, I MEANT it. Hell was better than what I found in my relationship with the church.
"In my opinion, a relationship becomes abusive when one person tells someone else they are not good enough. They need to change. And at the same time, won't let that person leave the relationship. (You are not good enough for me, but I won't let you be with anyone else.) That is what it felt like being a member of the church. I wasn't good enough for them, but I didn't have the choice to leave.
Only, I did. I have the choice. I am not ever going to go back to a place or a relationship with anyone or any organization that makes me feel less than."
-me - Abusers are charming. Victims stay quiet. You never know what other people have been through.
- It is NOT. NEVER will be. the failing of the survivor who can't "hang in" any longer. NEVER. NOT. That is so so so so so wrong.
God brings comfort and love. Total comfort and love. Anything else just isn't God.
I love what she said at the end... about her friend... She couldn't handle touch, so her friend sat at the edge of the bed and held her big toe. SO grateful for BJ. He'd touch my head. The only place on my body that I could handle being touched was my head, and then my hands, and then I wanted to be held. So, he held me for hours and hours while my body and my mind healed.
You don't have to forgive, at least not in the way the church teaches forgiveness, in order to move on. It is not required of you.
The only thing that was hard to listen to in this podcast, was talking about horrific abuse... I have spent many years saying, "It wasn't rape, because it wasn't like what they experienced." or, "It wasn't abuse, because it wasn't as bad as it could have been." I have also listened to friends who said, "I wish he would have beat the shit out of me, because then at least I would have had the scars, and I could call it abuse." etc... Emotional abuse is devastating. Just because abuse doesn't look like it looks on TV, doesn't mean that it isn't. It is okay to move on and separate yourself even if you are not experiencing the VERY horrific things that Tresa and Natasha talked about.
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