I mentioned in my first post that I have a religious past, and this is a huge piece of who I am. My religious upbringing was the design of my grandparents, Pentecostal faith healers that lost a daughter in her twenties and deemed me the prodigal stand-in. Under their tutelage, I began speaking in tongues by age two. Before ten, I had stood in the middle of a highway with a sign urging people to come "get saved" in a large tent revival. At that revival, Kenneth Hagan pulled me out of the audience and prophesied over me (in tongues- translated, of course) that I was going to lead many people to Jesus, and that everyone would "shut their mouths and listen to me" (I have this recorded on cassette if you don't believe me). By thirteen, I was laying hands on people in church and they were falling over and flailing around. Every significant developmental stage was marked by some kind of Christian rite of passage gone awry. I found a list that I made when I was a child with a list of "goals"; among them, seriously, was to "blow up a Muslim temple". Another, in a later journal, was to take a bullet for an unsaved stranger so I could die a martyr and that person would find Jesus.
My grandparents fucked me up real good.
As a teenager, my method of practicing my Christian faith was brilliantly devised, although I was blissfully unaware of what I was doing. I played the therapist, from as early on as I can remember, to everyone around me. This included peers, teachers, hairdressers, my own parents, and my boyfriends. Everyone. This tactic allowed me to be popular with absolutely everybody, to feel great about myself, to feel I was being "an example", and to feel useful in the world. It also, upon reflection, gave me absolute license to completely avoid what was happening inside of me, and in my day-to-day life, because I never ever had to talk about it, and nobody ever felt the need to ask. A therapist doesn't have a private life to their clients. I pulled this off for YEARS. I have some very fond memories of being loved by people who knew absolutely zero about me.
This has a predictable ending. Eventually, the jig had to be up because my body just wouldn't allow me to keep it going. I began to get sick all the time with all the crap inside of me (literally and figuratively, sorry I know, gross) that I wasn't addressing. Since then, I've done self-work, and made alot of self-repairs, and continue to do so. However. I feel like the meanest, most awful human on the planet, alot of the time. Because part of that work has meant NO THERA-PIZING outside of the workplace. Essentially, I've given myself the freedom to say exactly what and how I feel within all of my significant relationships (and sometimes just randomly, too - this does not always work out well.) I am sometimes tactless. I know people have found me intimidating. And I am incredibly, outspokenly selfish about my wants, needs, and my time. I have so much guilt about all of this I cannot even begin to express it. But it is authentic, and I am healthier this way. So I stew in the guilt, daily, and continue to be me. Who is sometimes a bitch. A big, un-Christiany one.
I have reconciled myself to the reality that this will be a lifetime sort of thing for me. That maybe in my forties or fifties I will feel zen enough that softer, more lovely things will come out of my mouth more often, and I'll be patient with myself every time they don't. Maybe by my sixties I'll embrace my crotchety-ness along with all my positive qualities and be one of those confident older women with great humor and witty soundbites, like my Nana. Maybe not. Either way, I'm committed to remaining honest about who and what I am as much as I can, at every opportunity.
I have the great fortune of knowing many strong, outspoken, complex women, of all ages. In this I find encouragement and hope, because I sometimes see glimpses of myself in the women I admire and think that maybe I am a bunch of great things, and am liked for some of those great things. The things I am now are mostly me, not mostly martyr, and I am still surrounded in love - really and honestly this time.
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