Words and Beauty

This blog is in transition.

Which is nothing new: since I am constantly in transition, most things in my life are constantly in transition as well. That being said, you may notice frequent changes to the layout until I find what works for me these days.

Trigger warning: if you are a survivor, please read on with caution. If anything is overwhelming, stop! Take care of yourself... It's so important.

I'm dealing with abuse memories again. This happens periodically as I grow and change and seek deeper healing. For many years the memories were pictures and little else. Sometimes they were triggered by a smell or sound, but then the flashbacks played out like a silent film. My mind is now retrieving the sound and layering it over the pictures.

Sometimes, this is the hardest thing.

Words are powerful at any age, but the words we hear as children mold us in deep and almost immutable ways. This is especially true in traumatic situations. Trauma memories are stored differently than a memory of, say, your first day of school, or your favorite vacation. It is hardwired in and can actually change the shape and function of different areas of the brain. The things a child is told while enduring the trauma of abuse will shape the way they see them self and the world. Keep this in mind: we're going to take a little detour and then come back.

Over the past couple of weeks I have had some situations, both personal and via social media, that have made me feel beautiful. You're probably thinking, "Great!", because everyone should have moments that make them feel special and wanted and beautiful. But I noticed that, while I talk a good game about self love and acceptance, I actually shy away from feeling that sometimes. So I began to analyze why.

I began to see that feeling beautiful brought with it feelings of fear, and self loathing, and guilt. And I thought, "This is bizarre." Because isn't feeling beautiful something most women want. We spend countless hours and thousands of dollars over our lifetimes to grab this elusive feeling, so why would it frighten me? Paralyze me. Make me want to hide away in shame.

I felt little. Helpless. Like the trapped child I once was. And this induced the memories I spoke of earlier, with the words placed over the pictures I've had for a while:

"I'm doing you a favor. You're so ugly, no one will want to be your boyfriend. No one will want to kiss you like me. I'm helping you out... But maybe you'll be pretty one day, and everyone will want you. And then you can give them what they want, because I taught you so good."

(I want to throw up writing the words. I want to throw up that anyone else will read the words. But you know what? Words have the power you give them, so I'm going to keep using mine to fight, to heal, and to help others.)

The messages I learned from those words were that I was ugly and unloveable as a child, and that if I did become pretty at some point, I would still be used as a thing and discarded after. Ugly, nasty messages that buried into my unconscious mind and put out deep roots.

Lies. But lies I believed, because I wasn't even aware of where they had come from. I didn't know why I always believed the negative things people said about me, but I did. All the bullying words I heard in school: fat, ugly, four-eyes, freak... I believed them and thought myself unworthy of love and friendship. All because of messages I received as a toddler and pre-schooler and pre-teen, before I had the mental capacity to process anything that was happening to me.

And I didn't just believe these lies, I ran from any truth that someone might give about my beauty. All compliments were dangerous and embarrassing, because, while ugly was heartbreaking, it was familiar. It was a lie I was at home with. Beauty was dangerous. Beauty got you gawked at, and groped, and raped... Beauty was death, and I wasn't even aware of why.

Someone asked me on a FaceBook post the other day how I couldn't know I was beautiful. It isn't so much that I don't know. It's that it's been too dangerous to fully embrace the concept of personal beauty. Like I said, I talk a good game, but believing everything I say is sometimes very scary. I'm getting better at believing though; unpacking the memories definitely helps.

Perspective is everything.

I do a lot of driving on tiny, curvy, hilly Texas roads near my hometown. It's gorgeous, but also slightly dangerous. If you don't know the roads you can definitely take some of the curves too fast and end up careening into a ditch. There are deer and wild boar and coyotes along the highways. Storms bring sudden hail, high winds, and flash floods. It is truly still a wild and primitive country, in spite of all the pavement and fences.

Driving tonight, I had one of those glorious epiphany moments that lift you up and show you a little more of the reality of your soul. I'm choosing to embrace my beauty like the Texas prairie I love: something wild, untamable, and maybe a little dangerous... But also breathtaking and awe-inspiring. I'm not saying this to fish for compliments, those still make me a little uncomfortable. (Hey, growth and healing take their own time!)

I'm saying it, because believing in my beauty will heal this wound. Lessen this scar. Ease this pain. I'm saying it, because that little girl who still hides in the corner of my heart deserves to be seen. She deserves to feel like the princess she always was. She deserves light, and love, and sparkly tiaras. So I'm going to teach her that being beautiful is not shameful. She will not be hurt for being beautiful. She will find even more love there, in that shining place, than she ever could have imagined. And she can heal just a little bit more.

You are beautiful too... And I love you.

"Listen. This is just a dream. But very clever people can hear dreams. So please just listen. I know you're afraid, but being afraid is all right. Because didn't anybody ever tell you? Fear is a superpower. Fear can make you faster, and cleverer, and stronger... If you're very wise and very strong, fear doesn't have to make you cruel or cowardly. Fear can make you kind... So listen. If you listen to nothing else, listen to this: you're always going to be afraid, even if you learn to hide it. Fear is like a companion. A constant companion, always there. But that's okay. Because fear can bring us together. Fear can bring you home."
           -Clara, Doctor Who, Season 8, Episode 4 'Listen'