If everything is really a lesson working on my behalf to
better this life, then my lessons just keep getting sweeter
as the years go by. And by sweet, I do not mean easy, just juicier and softer
on the eyes of my heart.
Relationships tend to be one of my biggest triggers, and
that makes sense for grown children of traumatic upbringings. And for everyone
for that matter. No ones had a perfect life. If the people who were “supposed” to love me and teach me the
world was safe accidentally created the opposite scenario for me, of course as
I grown up I will not trust, I will struggle to let myself be loved, and the
way I view myself will fluctuate in the face of human interactions.
One of the symptoms of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self. It’s where one’s self-perceptions and way of viewing the world change from situation to situation based on the level of perceived safety and/or triggered trauma. I dare to say fuck the westernized diagnosis and disorders… is this not the human experience of many? Especially those who have been beaten with the words and the names of things we are not and never were? Whore, thief, liar, bad girl, bad boy, delinquent, F’s, learning disabilities, failure, depression, cancer, not good at math, stupid, bitch…. Etc.
One of the symptoms of borderline personality disorder is a fluctuating sense of self. It’s where one’s self-perceptions and way of viewing the world change from situation to situation based on the level of perceived safety and/or triggered trauma. I dare to say fuck the westernized diagnosis and disorders… is this not the human experience of many? Especially those who have been beaten with the words and the names of things we are not and never were? Whore, thief, liar, bad girl, bad boy, delinquent, F’s, learning disabilities, failure, depression, cancer, not good at math, stupid, bitch…. Etc.
We were taught to go against our innate nature and to create
contradiction exasperated by worldly confusion within the deepest parts of our belief systems.
So then, if we are so lucky, we choose to embrace our
hardships and triggers to break free from the bondage of disillusionment. Last
night, I was triggered by telling this beautiful and gentle man the details of
my recent past. It’s a heavy thing for newbies in my life to process, let stab
them in the gut, and then willingly let the pain drift away like a message in a
bottle holding my history… for someone else to pick up one day and find the
truth in it all.
I read his voice and became fearful that he will not accept
me. I became consumed with the feeling that I am tainted, that I am not
“normal,” and I can never tell a normal story to someone I love about my past.
My stories are outrageous to say the least and shocking. When you think I
couldn’t surprise you more, I do. It’s my life… it’s my story. But, who am I
without my story? That is the real lesson here.
Last night I sat with the fear and the sorrow I felt for
myself. I felt sadness for the things I put myself through, and I felt regret.
Then I realized, this man is not judging me. I am judging me, still. Yes, I
have grown by leaps and bounds and have moments of true self-love and
miraculous earth shattering revelations… but my insides have not let completely go
of the story I tell myself. The story of who I believe I am. The story of how I
see myself and relate to the world.
I sat to meditate on
my heart space this morning. I knew the work that needed to be done was inside
of me. Whether people judge me or not, whether this man stays in my life or
not… the way I view myself and my life does not need to fluctuate. I REPEAT: it does not need to fluctuate. I
need no fixing, no undoing… only the letting go of what IS NOT TRUE. Just be
Robin. Nameless, faceless, full of fire and energetic magical spiritual stuff…
just having a human experience.
As I sat with my eyes closed in dimmed light before the sun
came out, I asked my heart how it was inside. Usually I feel pain in my heart
or heaviness, but not this time when I checked in. It had been a while since I
checked in with my heart in silence. I felt almost nothing, and I thought to
myself, “Is this what openness feels like?” And then a voice, my voice, said loud and clear, yet with no warning, and with the gentleness of a sweet confident
whisper “I am freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.” Ok heart. I must be doing a good job; We
are free.
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I will be doing everything I can to fight the good fight. Help me make a difference.
