Recently, a friend of mine introduced me to the concept of Morning Pages. We wake up at 4:30 every morning and we connect with our inner child by writing. When we first started I remember telling him, I've got too many skeletons in my closet, maybe I don't want to hear what my inner child has to say, whatever has been supressed was supressed for a reason. I occasionally take a glance into the dusty dark corners of my closet, and then I move on. Life is too short for dwelling on the painful parts, when there's so much joy and beauty to live for, I don't see the point. But my friend, (in his infinite wisdom) said something profound: 'Unless you deal with all the painful parts, you'll never be able to let go and they'll always hold you hostage' (or something like that).
So, regardless of all the fear I felt, I decided to take on this new challenge. It's been surprisingly cool, and I've learnt a lot about myself from myself, which I think is awesome.
In the last 7 days, two huge things occurred. The one was the death of a friend of mine, I've never lost a friend and I was surprised by how heartbreaking it was. What shocked me more though, was how angry I felt. I spent a lot of time reflecting and talking about it to friends, and at some point I think I started to deal. Behind the anger, that's where my pain was, and that's what I'm coming to terms with now.
But the second shock came in the most unexpected way. In 2007 I was raped. Yes it's sad, tragic, moment of silence... Moving right along. I keep staring at the word 'raped' I hate it, it leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. I've honestly dealt with it, it's actually quite surprising how many women have been through the same experience, it's life though, shit happens. What made it even worse was the fact that this person wasn't a stranger and they were known as 'quiet' so for me to now accuse them of something this 'out-of-character' was a great shock, and the hardest part was dealing with the questions: 'What did you do to make him do what he did?' or my personal favourite: 'Are you sure it was rape, maybe he thought you were just playing hard to get.' But as I said, it's been four years and I'm seriously over the whole thing.
So, why am I writing about it today? For a lot of women, rape is not just about the physical act, it's about the feeling you feel when someone takes something that's yours without your permission. Being violated to that level, that's the b*tch about the whole experience.
Last night something happened. It wasn't big, I wasn't violated, but I'm shocked at how the feeling was exactly like that which I felt all those years ago. Having almost forgotten about it, nicely tucked at the back of my closet along with all my other skeletons, the feeling was exactly the same. I recently told a friend that since 2007, I've decided that sex is always going to be on my terms. I don't subscribe to anyone's notion of morality, purity, chastity or even sanity (feeling a bit poetic there for a sec). Because I never want to feel like anyone has taken the choice away from me, I never want to be a victim.
The second part of the whole 2007 drama was I guess the trust issue. When a stranger steals your purse, it's not personal, they just needed the money or maybe they really liked the purse. But when it's someone you know, love and even trust, it really messes with your core. I've told people that I feel safe when I'm travelling because strangers don't generally mean you harm. For those who know me well, I'm sure I've bored them on many occasions with my 'Phobia for being touched' thing. I come from a family of people that never hug, kiss or even hold hands. Over the years the mild irritation of other peoples touch has grown into a serious fear, because as I've learnt, those closest to you are the ones most likely to inflict the most pain.
I always believe in seeing the glass as half full, happiness is a choice and those who choose sadness don't deserve pity. But in my 'half-full' mindset, I often discount the fact that life has it's painful parts and some things do hurt, and feeling hurt and sad is okay. I recently had a big row with my best friend because of that. I've never understood why people decide to be sad, I always thought it's a waste. But as I learnt last night, not dealing with pain, leads to more pain.
Back to Morning Pages. I now see what my friend was talking about, so, I'm making a conscious decision to do some serious spring cleaning of the painful places of my own, to acknowledge my pain as valid and to take my inner child through the healing she obviously needs.
Just like all the beautiful images on this post, I have one person to thank for always bringing light into the darkest places of my life. The one person who has held me through the tears, the pain and has never needed me to fake a smile when I didn't have one to share. My beautiful best friend, thank you for always being my own guardian angel. You have carried me through it all and I will forever love you for that Fuze.
