I received an anonymous critique of not just one post on my blog, but my blog in its entirety. My initial reaction was complete shock. I was dumbfounded. I sent the review to my two closest friends and my Mother. No one knew how to respond. We were collectively astonished. I immediately thought it must be from a man I’ve dated and rejected. Look at how quick my ego works my world. I thought there was no way a stranger would take the time to write an articulate review of such depth. Or, the truth is I wasn’t as transparent as I had believed myself to be. I wasn’t ready to be. I followed my knee jerk reaction and immediately wrote a post in response to this reader. The morning following I opened my eyes in a desperate search for my phone. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, see anyone, or login to my blog. I needed my Mommy.
That’s right, I did. Proud and scary moment.
It’s interesting, anytime I blog on a new topic my email, Facebook, and phone are flooded with responses and inquires immediately following its publishing. This time, I heard crickets. Sexual abuse is not a topic people like to talk about or face. I know that avoidance well. I haven’t wanted to face this fact of my life for quite some time. I’ve avoided this pain, but not always intentionally.
Only in the past two years did the memories of this event begin to revisit and haunt me. I was ten years old when it happened. I never thought much about it after the trial. It was as if the courtroom doors closed and I never looked back. My ten year old scared self made my Mother promise we’d never speak of it again and I was very intent on no one in our family ever finding out. After the news was published in our local newspaper, family members began to reach out to my Mother out of curiosity and concern. Mom bravely told them, “Kins doesn’t want to talk about it, now or ever. Please respect our space.” She kept her promise.
Two years ago I started seeing flashbacks of the abuse. They would come to me at the most unexpected times. I would be deciding whether or not I should order the eggs benedict or a breakfast burrito and POW flashback of her face. I would physically shake my head NO back and forth to dissipate the memory of my life that I needed to face the most. I was having horrific, sweaty, wake you up in the middle of the night screaming nightmares. This pain was pouring out of me in yoga during savasana. I found myself sobbing uncontrollably on my mat. This is where my search began. I traveled all the way to Thailand to study yoga for two months because I wanted to comprehend the correlation. I returned home exhausted and more confused than when I had left.
I have always been on the search. Self help books plague my bookshelf. I’ve been an avid reader of the genre for ten years. I am a Reiki master. I’ve braved psychotherapy. I’ve been an active emotional freedom technique user. Cranial sacral therapy. I’ve hired life coaches. I write. I use affirmations. You name it. Any healing modality that’s out there I’ve done it. I’ve constantly been on the search for the healing method that will move this pain out my body.
I’ve also tried the unhealthy route. I played a real good game of avoidance with drugs and alcohol. The legal kind and the not so legal kind. I was an all star player. Xanax was the maid of honor at my marriage to misery and she gave such a good toast. I loved her. She made everything disappear. All of my anxieties. All of my fears. I’ve tried almost every antidepressant. Booze was a bestie for awhile. Coke made me happy for ten minutes until I wanted more. You name it, I’ve done it. I didn’t intentionally think, “I’m so miserable. I’m going to go party with my friends and fuck a stranger to make myself feel more worthy.” But that’s exactly what I was doing.
I had a good balance between attempting healthy healing for one week and then successfully getting fucked up the next. Bring myself down, pick myself up. Avoid the pain and then pretend to face the pain. My cycle of avoidance is embarrassing and depressing and it brings tears to my eyes to admit this to you tonight.
Good game Kins.
I have always been on the search but I had no idea what I was looking for.
This Anonymous reader gave me my answer. Gave me the best gift of my entire life.
This has inspired a huge idea that will completely change the world and the way we view healing. I am going to reveal the news this week with a video I will be passionately preparing for you. I know in every inch of my body that this is going to be something that will not only bring healing to myself but to a wide range of people. This is a positive, creative, dynamic idea that will help build a better, fairer, more sustainable, more interesting world.
I printed and framed the review from Anonymous today. I placed it in a gold frame because it’s pure gold that will forever dwell inside my heart. Thank you Anonymous.
I hope you’ll join me on this journey.
If you don’t have magical eyes that can see the tiny writing in that frame and you’re interested in the review I received I have copied and pasted it below.
No more shame, no more games.
“To stave off confusion, I will start by saying, this is a critique, an honest one with good intentions. These comments are in reference to your blog in its entirety, rather than this single post. Also, I choose to post anonymously. I hope you can respect that.
The run. There seems to be comfort in that for you. One excuse after another, a swing of uncertainty. “Do I act tough and stand my ground or do I try and open up and pretend (mostly to yourself) to hide nothing? In all honesty, you seem to exonerate yourself from actually doing any hard work with placid excuse after excuse as if you are going about it all the right way. Do you notice that you don’t critique your own actions at all? You justify them time & time again. Each failed relationship, none of it is your own fault? Doesn’t it take two to tango?
Your search for love appears to be defined by its surface elements here and it seems to me that you are in no place to give relationship or life advice (yet)… only to complain about life and fantasize about finding your own strength to hopefully tell your “truth” (which isn’t seen here on this blog yet). Your complaints are not-so-well disguised as tidbits of advice. You actually seem too scared to touch yourself where it hurts long enough to fix a wound. So, you mask it by trying to “inspire” others, speaking to the choir, reiterating only what they too WANT to hear… “It’s not me, its you (him).” Why not truly reveal your scars and start to grow? Then, you will profoundly inspire us. Good luck to you in actuality learning to “choose love.” I mean that sincerely, all the best.
I won’t be returning to your blog again to see if you respond. I don’t need to for me, or for you. I hope you think about my critique of your writing and I hope it helps you achieve your goal. You’re a clever, funny, and attractive gal with a knack for the written word. I just hope you actually begin to write about your truth and stop unknowingly painting a picture of your personal force-field. You don’t want to misguide another young woman into the same unhealthy avoidance pattern, do you?”