Truthfully, I have always been afraid of people. To me, each person in the world is my mother. The person who told me repeatedly that I was crazy. Convincing me that there was no dragon in the house. The woman who informed me that the disfunction in our home, the very sickness in the air we breathed, was my fault. If I wasn’t there — there would have been no sexual abuse. By blaming me, the pedophile and my complicit mother were completely unaccountable and off the hook.
Often I am afraid that people will see me and think, “She is crazy.” I wrestle with that fear every day and yet each day I show up, I challenge my fears and I try. I try to be my best-self in each given moment. Not perfect but good-enough. I have to work very hard to continually quiet that internalized-mother-voice and hold on to what I’ve held on to my entire life — the quiet belief under the raging mother-voice — that I am good. I do believe that most people, in fact, are good. I just have to work on not being so afraid of them. Part of this process is continually reminding myself that I am not crazy and that the disfunction was not my fault. Letting myself be seen and heard helps me to let go of that internalized cruel voice.
Each time I hit the post button and send my writing out into the world, I get afraid. I worry. I have to ask my friend, “Did that make me sound crazy?” I feel vulnerable and I feel scared. But for whatever reasons, I keep believing that what I have to say will help. It will help me and perhaps some other person in the world who shows up each day trying to be their best-self too.
Today I found this! This unexpected gift — an outlet plate and note left for me in my mailbox. Which literally made my legs weak — forcing me to drop and sit on the ground. I gasped and lost my breath when I opened it. I both laughed and cried. I was floored and touched in so many ways. It’s hard for me to even describe how overcome I feel. This small gesture feels huge to me and I’m flooded with gratitude. It feels like an offering of support, of help and a validation that I’m okay. It’s a reminder that I’m being seen and no, I’m not crazy. I think more than anything it helps me feel safe by showing me that there are good people in the world.
You remind me of these things as well — by stopping by and taking the time to read and respond to my posts. I know you’re there, doing good things, being good people and working hard to be your best-self too. You’re helping make that cruel-mother-voice smaller by reminding me that all people are not my mother. And you make me less afraid of being seen. Thank you for being a part of my journey!
I’m off to get a screwdriver. If I feel vulnerable after I hit “publish,” I’m just going to look at the new outlet plate on my wall and take a deep, deep breath!
Categories: Tri-Umphant Living