This has been a hard day. A hard but strong day.
I am testing the waters of resilience, of what to do when the rages and panic set in. Oprah spoke last night at the Golden Globes and this in the middle of her speech:
"I want to say that I value the press more than ever before as we try to navigate these complicated times, which brings me to this: what I know for sure is that speaking your truth is the most powerful tool we all have. And I'm especially proud and inspired by all the women who have felt strong enough and empowered enough to speak up and share their personal stories. Each of us in this room are celebrated because of the stories that we tell, and this year we became the story."
Yeah, Oprah brought the thunder.
I was at book group this evening and the icebreaker question revolved around this topic, our personal stories and how is the #metoo movement impacting us. Everyone shared, and then I spoke about being the middle of trying to negotiate and change generational trauma and personal trauma in my own mind and body. I talked about how it is happening right now, that I am getting stronger but it's a daily battle. I talked about being tired, about being angry, selfishly, about the years lost in productive work that I am instead spending trying to mentally survive.
On my worst days, I'm afraid of being too late. I wonder if my life will become absorbed in my children's lives, their children, their needs. I wonder if our business will always need me just enough to not have the time or resources to truly do something else. I wonder if this blog will just be something that I used at a therapeutic tool. I wonder.
I don't know the future and I won't give up. I am fighting for myself and for my own future. I know that much.
I know I am supposed to write to this trauma and not just this trauma of sexual dominance and power but to the larger, human question about how we will or will not love each other.
All of us hurt each other - ALL OF US - because we all have some level of trauma. This internal struggle is shared by all humans; what do we do with our pain and how will it shape us? What are our choices? What are not?
And responding to this question with humility is one of the great secrets if you will of any 12-step program. We have to own our own ugliness. I have to own my ugliness, my lies, my deceit.
So then how do you love? What is love? What does love look like day in, day out, with the people closest to you, the ones that will most see and feel how traumas are shaping you. What will love look like there and why do I feel this is so important?
We are revealing our abusers. We are deconstructing the systems that protect them and the patriarchy and economic power under it all. We are acknowledging how we are also complicit or can easily carry on the abuse when we don't name our shadows.
How then will we all be different? What will we teach our children? How do we talk about pain, conflict, power, hurt, respect? We talk about love. We teach love. We move the conversation and consciousness of our world forward.
We move forward by answering that question while seeing justice swiftly meeted out for all of the oppressors, for the women and men, who have been cowered far too long by the often economic realities of speaking out, speaking up.
As I process my own pain, my memories stored in my body and lived out involuntarily in my actions, I have promised myself that in the midst, I will answer that question. I AM answering that question.
I am not used to being strong, of having options. I have been a survivor, not a thriver. I have been too tired to try anything other than the acceptance of my reality. Over the years, that has narrowed my world and taken my creativity away.
No more.
I still feel alone on my path but I know others are out there, struggling, fighting, loving. I know someday, somehow, I will join up with them.
For now, I grow and heal alone.