I M Perfect lady

Tag: hiding

  • Who is saying the words.

    Somehow we all expect people to think, act and feel like us, when in fact we are all on our own separate journey.

    I personally chose not to engage in a conversation on my blog with people who are not willing to let me see their face.

    How many of you would want to discuss your lives with a ‘known’ stranger?  Not a stranger, but someone who knows you but wants to be treated like a stranger. 

    It seems to me that like the klu klux klan you can say things you would normally not say without your sheet.

    The anonymity of you, feels abusive to me, for I am at a disadvantage…you know things about me, that I would know about you, if your revealed yourself to me.

    It is like having ghostwriters.

    I am even finding it odd that not only does the opposition have no names, but so do the supporters.  I personally would love to know who understands and comprehends my journey.

    And the only conclusion I can come up with for hiding is fear.

    Otherwise why hide?  I know one person said that being anonymous prevents being rejected.

    And that is a concept to consider.  Rejection.  Having your own opinion may lead to rejection?  Rejection by whom?

    I even feel that perhaps I would reject some comments if I knew the source, for each time we hear a bit of gossip, we always first consider the source.

    Just because it sounds good, you have to see whose mouth it is coming from.  Words sound different depending upon who is saying them.

    Each of us has relationships and our past experiences with a person will color how the words land upon our ears.  We either know from the past how empty and hollow they are or how solid and firm and trusting.

    While many think it makes no difference that words are words and it matters not who speaks them, trust me it matters.

    Hearing “I love you” from someone who has neglected you and has lived a self absorbed life, falls flat to the floor after ricocheting around inside your heart, looking for warm fuzzy feelings.  And an “I love you” that comes from a mutually loving and trusting relationship snuggles easily inside.

    It matters to me, who is saying the words.

     

  • Without your truths.

    I sat with my old self yesterday and caught a glimpse of how I used to be, how if it weren’t for the truth exploding into our family, where I too would be caught.

     

    I saw her living in two worlds, locking up her truth before entering each side, so a part of her was always in the closet.

     

    And to me the part that gets locked away is the truth, for there will be a price to pay to let it out.  And the price is very large…huge in some cases, your whole family is on the line, if the truth slips out of the closet.

     

    She continues to walk into a church she no longer believes in, to keep her family believing she is there. And her family needs her to arrive so they too can pretend she is still the same girl.

     

    She knows if she doesn’t arrive, if she speaks her truth, her whole world will change.

     

    As I left her yesterday, a song was playing on the radio, and the words filled my jeep, “I am not ready to say good-bye…”

     

    In life we are often asked to pick between staying and not being truthful or leaving with the truth and all it curtails.

     

    When you are raised and believe in a religion that is based on pretending and false facts, and your whole world is comprised of this, you will lose your whole world.

     

    While greeting the truth, you have to say good-bye to your pretend family.  I say pretend, for you will know them by how they respond to your truth, until then, it is all pretend.

     

    In my family of origin, it was built primarily on false facts, the façade and truth hid in the closet.  All then acted, pretending there was no such storage for all the sins she blessed away.

     

    It wasn’t until one sin fell out that the rest came tumbling after and I was overrun with truth.

     

    I am not certain how the rest could just push it all back in and go on pretending, but they did and have.  Their capacity for hiding is much larger than mine. 

     

    While it may seem that they have once again locked the door, I believe that we all get to face our truths some day.

     

    I can’ t know when, nor can I force you to open your door and let them out, to live with them in harmony.

     

    Our truths don’t disappear, just because we fail to look upon them, instead what happens is you live a life without them, a pretend life.

     

    You get to have a pretend father and mother.

    You can have pretend sisters and brothers.

    You then get pretend security of being surrounded by folks who care.

     

    As I found out, if you open your closet of truth, your pretend family disappears.

     

    Most are not willing to say good-bye to pretend…while I thought they did not want to face the truth.  It isn’t the truth they fear, but the façade of pretend. They truly don’t want to know it is made of up fakeness.

     

    It is better to live in the comfort of fakeness than to live alone with your truth.

    Yet who are you without your truths?

     Smug mug pics 602

    “Every exit is an entrance somewhere else. “

    ~Tom Stoppard

  • The Shame Lives when we hide it…bravery is born when we don’t!

    We can’t know the obstacle courses another person is navigating in their lives, what sorts of soul wrenching choices they are making, what tricky waters they are navigating by how they present themselves daily, for most often we are taught to ‘put our best face forward’ and not share the nitty and the gritty, the sad and devastating and we have all become masks of covering up.

    How did it become more natural to pretend than to walk in authenticity, like we get points for being the most put together and champions of keeping our ‘messes’ well hidden?

    So that now it seems that a person who speaks their truth and walks it is a phenomena instead of the norm.

    What is it about human nature that we want sunshine and blue skies, peace, love and joy and push back and away from feelings and emotions of great tragedy, yet live it anyway?

    The behind the scenes drama would be better served in front and out loud. To simply present to the world your selves dressed in your dirty laundry and wear it with flare.

    To be as disheveled on the outside as the raging confusion and overwhelming emotions of pain on the inside and for it all to match, instead of primping and struggling to remain perfectly coiffed while totally unraveling.

    It seems we want perfect looking lives whether we live them or not and we will struggle to pull it off, and feel victorious if we can walk around in public hiding our broken insides.

    Imagine the world and how much more relaxed it would be if our insides would appear as accessories, if we were allowed to wear our confusion outside, what great advice would pour our way and how comforting it would be to see that you were not alone.

    And, the greatest news is that the secrets would die for it would be unfashionable to not have colorful deeply intriguing soulful items displayed on your chest.

    Imagine the white blankness of indifference compared to the wildly attractive colors of wrestling with overcoming abuse?

    How nice it would be to get rid of the social presentation and just be our selves…

    What happens with these social masks and if they are good actors, is that you never get to know the real person, just the nice set of clothes that walk around.

    In walking and talking about my ‘dirty’ laundry or my truth, I have had the greatest privilege to hear others real life…they relax and be them selves where the social outside disappears and underneath is this wildly exciting alive soul living life, going through huge lessons of growth and inner knowing.

    Life is lived underneath the perfect faces and put together clothing and if you dare wear your dirty laundry in public you will find others who are eager to do so too.

    My dirtiest of the dirt is that I have a pedophile for a father and once I openly displayed this, owned it, spoke it, I have been free to display other shades of dysfunction as well, and little by little my whole self is allowed to come forth.

    I have become comfortable in my own skin and wear my abuse as a badge of courage not of shame; it’s one of the last diseases that need to be socially acceptable.

    Human nature when its abused creates this, it isn’t a bug, it is spread from family member to family member and I truly believe that the more we talk about this and the more we openly display our abuse, the less power it will have and its insidious spreading will recede.

    Incest is hidden behind nice looking clothes and demeanors, and family’s monsters are protected and made normal so as not to stand out and look odd…and we need to undress this normalcy and own it.

    When we own it we begin treating the root cause…we find the line and the path of destruction and can one by one bring them in the open and see how their abuse affected them.

    Are they still being victims or have they taken over and become what abused them? And we have to recognize that they are acting out perfectly for being abused.

    “Hurt people hurt people.” They are not natural monsters; they became this way coming from whence they came.

    While we can see the wolf in sheep’s clothing, we never treat the wolf we just pet the lamb.

    Petting the monster will not stop the abuse; it is only facing the monster within that we can begin to affect the root cause.

    Undressing and exposing the monster is a step in the right direction.

    Isn’t it funny, but we all know we are petting a lamb with the volatile wolf underneath…yet we are too afraid to know it and speak it and do something about it. It is much easier to pretend it is a lamb the whole way through, even though the wolf fangs are showing and we have bites to prove it…

    I know the cost of not disrobing the wolf…of pretending that he is only a lamb.

    Our children need to know from us adults in the room, that a monster is sitting in their presence and if we treat him like a lamb, so will they.

    It is time we call a spade a spade, a monster a monster and a molested child a molested child. It is time for us to wear our wounds on the outside with courage.

    The shame lives when we hide it…bravery is born when we don’t!

  • My feelings are me.

    In reading, “A Course in Weight Loss” by Marianne Williamson, it came to me how we are so untruthful with our feelings, so neglectful, so mean, how we run away ducking and hiding, how the planet at large doesn’t like to see sad feelings.

    Feelings of grief or despair, feelings that lower the energies within, a dark foreboding feeling, the feelings that maybe we are not one with reality.

    It seems that at least in my house, we were to skip over reality and that alone was the cause of most dark feelings.

    I am thinking, and I may be wrong, but that when you walk hand in hand with reality, you will be less sad, if you are not wanting things to be different.

    It is the wanting to change what can’t be changed that brings sadness.

    To not be who you are.

    When there is a separation between what is and what you want, that the most suffering happens.

    When you surrender in agreement and sit with what is, although you feel sad to let your dream go, eventually you will see the peace of being in sync with the Universe.

    My greatest sadness was that I didn’t have a dad.
    It wasn’t that I had a pedophile.
    Once I got over the fact that I couldn’t have a dad, when I accepted I was a girl without a man who could be a dad dad, I was much more content and at peace, I was no longer fighting reality.

    To me, when you feel deep sadness I wonder if you are in a place of wishful thinking, mad dreaming, reality changing, if you are struggling hard with acceptance.

    Sadness has a message.
    What is it saying?

    To me I have lots of sorrow escaping in yoga, past sorrows, past dreams and expectations that never came to bear. Even new sadness comes in along with a future dream, which can be no more.

    Some of my sadness that escapes in yoga is the little girl finally telling me where I hadn’t been with her.

    Where she was left alone while I dreamed on.

    Where she was in reality and I escaped.
    Tears flow of rejoining, connecting and being one.

    I stay with my feelings now and find them very enlightening no matter how dark and confusing and restricting, for underneath the tangled mess is a part of me that has been lost and unfelt and needs to be tended to.

    All feelings are signals, which steer you to live authentically as you.

    They are not about the other person, the feelings are specifically made for you, they are your prized possessions, they are what makes you you.

    When you stand with your feelings, you are standing up for you.

    When you cover them up, you are pretending to be someone else.

    My feelings are me.