Tell Your Story in 15 Minutes or Less: Past, Present, and Future

 “Sometimes, when you’re in a dark place, you think you’ve been buried; but actually, you’ve been planted.”

I like to think we all enter the tangible world with soul energy. As infants, we have no concept of what is beyond; no understanding we will erupt from the thing we called home, in our limited experience, to no understanding of what is next.

 I was born on April 13^th,1985 at 4:13am, after a four-hour labor. I later came to learn that 13 was my mother’s lucky number; she was born on Halloween, and had witch/healer energy, after all. I was 7lb, 13oz, and my head circumference was 13 inches. The official time on my birth certificate was 4:12, but if you ask my mother, that was wrong. I was welcomed into a lower-middle-class family, and assume I was loved in the capacity my parents knew how to love. When I was six months old, my brother was conceived, and he was not a part of the plan; my parents or mine. From the moment he was born, nearly on the toilet of my parent’s trailer, I became the ‘over-achieving good girl’ stereotype to balance my brother’s chaos. Though I was only 16 months old, my brother was needy and difficult, and caused a lot of strain on my parents; I quickly learned to not cause problems because he needed more things.

When I was 4, I had my adenoids removed (they are behind your tonsils). Coincidently, or perhaps not, after that, I began getting mysteriously sick. I would just lose the will to eat or drink, and 2-3 times a year from ages 4-8, I would spend 7-10 days in the hospital. They ran every test with every specialist, and no one could ever discover what was causing this to happen. My mother was a nurse, so when a specialist told her that it may be psychosomatic, she told me she was furious. 

They never did discover what was the root of the problem, and the last time I remember getting sick, I went into shock and nearly died. I received cards in the mail from my second-grade class that still stand out in my mind – a stick figure throwing up all over the page, another with balloons, and yet another one that said ‘I hope you don’t die.’ I remember very little from that time in the hospital, except I wonder if it was the only time I ever felt seen. When I was there I knew I was important; that I had family sitting by my bedside taking care of me. While I still consciously didn’t want to burden anyone (my mom reminds me of a time when I was 5 when I told her she could go back to bed when I was throwing up because I, quote, ‘knew what to do’) I subconsciously yearned for the attention. I don’t remember that; I just know it became a repeating pattern in my life.

I grew up being loved by damaged people. My father was emotionally unavailable and manipulative. He would get angry, and while he vowed to never beat us the way he was as a child, he never healed from his own trauma. That spewed into our household regularly, which included weeklong silent treatments and on the flip side, being verbally accosted. My mom, ever the manager and trying to keep up with two small children and work with minimal support from my grandparents who lived a mile away, was not much solace. I grew up trying to be the people pleaser, though never able to please enough, and my brother grew up the spacy artist that everyone just gave space for. I was the mean older sister, and he was the pesty little brother, and we lived in those given roles until my adulthood. We grew up going to Catholic church on Sundays, and I generally enjoyed that, despite the inherited guilt. I didn’t have language for soul energy then, but something about listening to a story showing how we could grow and change was a trait I latched firmly to at a young age.

I graduated 4^th in my class and won nearly every scholarship I applied for. I was called forward to receive the award so many times on the scholarship night, I started praying to NOT receive money because that kind of attention made me feel embarrassed. I was a singer; that I could get in front of people and do. But be praised? Get accolades? Have my parents be proud? That was such a foreign feeling I wanted to curl up in a ball and never have to explore it again due the unfamiliarity of it. I couldn’t wait to get out of my small town and smaller house. I went off to the University of Rhode Island as a music education major and was so excited to be able to water my own roots and give myself space to blossom.

Though college is a formative time for people, and it was in some ways for me as well, I continue to not have much recollection of that time. I met Joe, who I went on to marry, and I switched majors because I learned that music was a way for me to access my feelings; once it turned into work, I no longer enjoyed it and I couldn’t bare to lose that coping mechanism. I got my first 'real' job and at 23 got married in a terrible ceremony, filled with people I don’t talk to anymore. I wanted so desperately to begin my life that I rushed and tried to control everything while simultaneously not enjoying or celebrating what I had already accomplished.

I moved to DC- the best decision I made at that age- and had my feisty baby girl Hailey at 26, all-natural, at a birth center. I wanted to give her all the things I never had; that included deliberate choices on how she would enter the world. Much like that seed that was planted and then blossomed, I too was reborn as a mother. The next 10 years I would continue to re-parent myself; to nurture this seedling I grew, and the seedling that needed nurturing so many years before.

I was a police wife, and for many years, was proud of that (my feelings on that have changed). I wasn’t aware of my privilege, I had dismissed any sense of ‘god’ or wonder in my life, and I didn’t understand patriarchy until I had to raise a daughter and teach her to embrace the spitfire, hilarious, big room energy she exuded. Having her was so transformative, it almost feels as like I had a pre-baby past, and now a secondary, post-baby past, as I was changed by her growth over the last 11 years. I began my own business which eventually blossomed into a thriving doula agency, and my life, for a brief moment, seemed really together. I thought I had made it, but little did I know that I was still in need of incredible healing work.

Growing up, I had dealt with anxiety and depression (and later come to find out, ADHD). My dad was empathetic to it, and also not at all supportive- we grew up in a ‘pick yourself up by your bootstraps' kind of family, and that included dealing with mental health issues. I battled this on and off for ages, and in 2017, I became involved in an open marriage situation that was incredibly toxic, and I spiraled with no support system to catch me; we were all living in this big suffocatingly-silent secret. Once again, no one was paying any attention, and while I wasn’t consciously manipulative, I was desperate to be seen by someone; by anyone. So, to simultaneously be seen and to avoid having to actually look at myself, I wrote a suicide note, drank a bottle of tequila, and cut my wrists. I didn’t come anywhere close to dying, but it was still a pivotal moment in my life. It is only 1 of 2 regrets I have in my life; knowing that I am going to have to tell my daughter someday that I thought she would be better off without me breaks my heart. The damage I caused other people in that situation is the second regret I will hold with me throughout my life.

The irony of that story is I did go on to lose everything, which was my biggest fear. My husband left me six months later and almost immediately moved in with his therapist’s secretary, I had to sell my business, and I became a single mother. I remember thinking, ‘how am I going to remember to take the trash out?’ I was so scared I couldn’t do it.

When I was growing up, I didn’t have many friends. My parents didn’t like people, and I didn’t know how to cultivate friendships. By the grace of the universe, at this time I was given soul sisters who held my hand through my divorce. My friend Rebecca took me to the hospital to have my gallbladder removed. My friend Denise took Hailey when she had the flu and I had to work. My friend Betsy challenged my bias and encouraged me to grow, and my friend Rosemary opened her home and held space for my pain due to the terrible treatment I endured. My parents, who have become very loving grandparents, also began to take Hailey for the summers --this gave me space to learn, grow, and be alone for the very first time in my entire life.

 I had a ‘hot girl summer’ where I did all the things I never got to do in my 20’s (which was like, a lot of things!), and I started going back to church; this time, the Unitarian church, which is super liberal and shares my value system. I began to really learn who I was; not just the nerdy, quiet, first-born girl, but the big-hearted, hard-headed, empathetic, spiritual, funny, playful, bisexual, kink-friendly, attractive, feminist-yet-feminine kick-ass person and mother I really was. I also started to realize that the damaging choices I made or the circumstances I was in did not have to define who I wanted to be moving forward.

I met McKendre, two weeks before COVID lockdown, at church--we were both musicians in the worship band. He told me I was a crazy cat lady, and people have described observing our meeting with words like ‘a bomb could have gone off in there and you wouldn't have noticed.’ So cliché and cheesy, isn’t it? Despite this adorable intro and a meaningful first date, we had the opposite of a whirlwind romance; due to COVID, we had very pragmatic teleworking sessions and dinners at home. Yet, my mind and body were re-awakened to joy and softness and forgiveness. We laughed so much and I cried so little. I fell in love not only with him as a person, but with myself as a person, and enjoyed that we were two individual people trying to figure out how to be autonomous and choose each other, societal standards be damned. I also learned about the burning man culture, which is so in line with my values, it seems impossible that I didn’t know of it before. I made more genuine friends in 2020/21 than I have in any previous year, despite the lockdown.

 Especially in the last year, I consciously learned and practiced patience, forgiveness, and grace, because now I understand intimately what it meant for others to have provided those things for me. My ex-husband requested more presence in our lives after a 2.5 year hiatus, and I accepted his apology, with boundaries I am still exploring, because we all deserve a second chance to show up and do better. Like all serious relationships at some point, McKendre and I hit a very rocky road after something happened that was hurtful and damaging to our relationship. I’ve been grateful to watch him take what he destroyed and start to build it back, piece by piece. This was an opportunity and gift I offered him, with accountability, because I too have had to build something from the ground again that included my character. I am grateful he can see that he is worthy of the forgiveness, and I am grateful he sees me worthy of the work.

A year ago I didn’t know where I would be working or how I would be paying my bills, and now I am in a new home, in a loving family unit, have a job I enjoy, hobbies I am passionate about, new friends, and a budding career path supporting others through coaching and classes. I am literally surrounded by cats at any given moment, which brings me consistent snuggles and delight, and suddenly I am taking care of plants that miraculously, have not all died. I have come to learn that while I long for real stability, life is never truly stable because we cannot control it. I come from a place now of assuming when things get hard, it's because I have been planted and not buried, that there is a lesson to learn, and that I cannot possibly know what will be just around the riverbend (cue Disney music).

I do not wish to tell the story of my future in tangible checkboxes; I have very few life goals. I could get hit by a bus tomorrow and I would feel fulfilled in this life I have created. That said, I do wish to manifest a future that feels like this: I want to feel the ache of laughter in my stomach throughout all of my days-it helps because I laugh from my belly. I want to feel safe and adored by my lovers and friends, who see my value and respect my boundaries and not just in what I can selflessly give. I want to spend quality time with my daughter before she becomes the exceptional young adult she is changing into before my eyes-- and I hope I get to do it from an RV or a boat for a little while, enjoying an adventure together. I want to create beauty through creativity and art, to challenge old paradigms and help people grow, and I will continue to seek justice and equity in the world.

I want to feel my mind be open and inspired, feel my body bursting with pride, feel my heart bursting with love, and feel my spirit continue to connect with what is both in me and beyond me. I want to take grief and sit with it and in it, but not let it define me. I want to feel intimacy in varying forms. I want to feel secure in what my needs are so I am confident in my decisions, and set loving boundaries that honor my time, worth, and energy. I want to feel the sun on my skin while I read something enlightening near the ocean, and the slap on my butt by loving friends in response to my obnoxious silliness. I want others to feel loved, and for everyone to feel seen. Finally, I want to be reminded again and again that soul energy cannot be destroyed; it just takes new forms that we cannot predict or see, and the struggles that are both behind me and with me are both tools and gifts.