Many I's In Me Part I - The Courage To Feel

​Many I's In Me

I tremble as Older reveals her mystery -
There are many I's in me -
All beholder and what I see
May none of them be the judge of me

---

I focus my coaching on women who were sexually abused as children.

In this vein, I have chosen a poem about a powerful insight into my own journey.

Let's take a look at the first two lines of the poem:

I tremble as Older reveals her mystery -
There are many I's in me

When my repressed memories of incest surfaced at age 37, I became aware that there were two parts of the self I know as me - two I's in me. One was the subconscious part of me that experienced the trauma, and the other was part of me that split off so I could survive to adulthood.

In time, I became aware of other I's in me, each formed in a different stage of my physical, cognitive, and emotional development. For example:

I, the young child endured the violations by clenching teeth, tensing every muscle, and curling up desperately in a fetal position. I now wake from deep sleep furiously kicking away the sadistic monster of a father in my dreams.

I, the early adolescent, now believing that sex is love, embraced that same father as a lover.

I, the young adult, invested body, mind, and spirit in every chance of a romantic relationship, subjecting all the other I's in me to repeated emotional devastation. (You can learn more about the mindset of the young adult me in my The One blog post.)

Seventeen years ago, I, the mid-life adult, judged this passion for romance to be the cause of all my suffering, locked it in a steel box. and threw away the key. (For the story of the straw that broke the camel's back, read my Insight To Opportunities blog post.)

All of the I's in me have lived peacefully and happily ever since - until recently,

A newcomer, I, the second-half-of-life adult, has found the key to the lock box and is circulating a petition for clemency, which as you might imagine, is  seriously rocking my boat.

All these I's in me are aware of each other, which is what I mean by this line:

All beholder and what I see

Each also judges the others through the lens of their unique perspective  This is the meaning of the last line:

May none of them be the judge of me

For example, the young child me judges my adolescent self for embracing my father as a lover because, from her perspective, it is a heinous betrayal. 

This judgment is founded in the belief that if I had not had a sexual awakening, better still, if I had not been a sexual being, I would not have abandoned the few defenses available to me, most importantly, the will to say, "No!" with every ounce of my mind and body.

My poem "Puberty For Me" describes the experience of losing that will:

Puberty For Me

All my defenses -
       All my clenched teeth,
       All my tightened muscles,
       My fetal position cling

Opened with a string

If I were coaching a client on releasing judgment, I would ask, "How does this judgment benefit you?"

The simple answer to this question for me is that the judgment of my adolescent self as a traitor allows me to avoid feeling powerless.

I would rather endure life-long hatred of my adolescent self than accept that I was powerless against a predator who knew full well how to manipulate my sexual awakening to his advantage.

To do so would allow the horror of the powerlessness to come to the surface. I would have to feel it consciously.

In all my experience, nothing has felt worse than powerlessness in the face of violation, and its remembrance is always  at least partially obscured by the fantasy of going back in time and changing the circumstances.

My poem "Powerless" captures this best.

Powerless

There are no tears for the crying inside
No screams for the too terrified
No blows for rage trapped in mind prisons
No trip back in time to turn tables on these visions

I have spoken in my Feeling Is Healing blog post about the power and importance of holding space for emotions. When I experienced the powerlessness as a child, it was too much for me. My mind exploded, and I left consciousness.

I was not able to hold space for the feeling then, but that is what I must do as an adult in order to move forward.

And so I set my intent  and asked for the spiritual support to find the courage to move forward - the courage to feel.

The night I made this commitment to myself, I could not sleep. I was anxious without knowing why, and no attempt at relaxation worked. The next day I was nauseous and of course very tired. I laid down to take a nap.

Again, sleep did not come, but the feelings came - came like a flood. There was no question of holding space for them because they filled all space, all sense, all being.

I tell you the experience was so intensely painful that I wished I were dead.

When the pain ended, I was physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually exhausted... and yet ... glad to be alive...  and free of fear.

My passion now is to help other women who were sexually abused as children. I want my pain, my struggle. my insights, my training, and my poetry to serve as channels of empowerment for other women walking this path.. 

The pursuit of pleasure is not enough to make my life worth living
Absent service, there is no purpose - my heart is empty without giving

Continue to Part 2 - From Surviving to Thriving!

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