At five, I sat locked in my room bleeding and crying from what was called love. I was told I could not come out of my room until I could be nice. So I swallowed my tears and was nice. When I was let out, I tried to tell my mother of the pain and fear. My father told her I was just a liar and a cry baby. Confronted with the choice of who to believe, she listened to him. I was sent back to my room.
In that room I learned many things. I learned that what you are supposed to love hurts you. I learned that what you think is wrong and right doesn't count. I learned that feeling hurt is being a cry baby. I learned that I had no power to save myself. Most of all, I learned that you must always show a good face; never show them what you feel. I learned to be a "good girl." I was prey in this world.
At twenty five, I sat in my graduate student office preparing to "bleed" and cry. That day my thesis-- my work and life-- of two years would be ripped to shreds like all those who had gone before me. I had seen them go in bright and square. I had seen them come out shriveled and blunted. I felt pain and fear but I put on a tough face and took it. I was a good girl.
In graduate school I learned many things. I learned that critique meant abuse. I learned that I wasn't supposed to feel that my work was personal. I learned that those who couldn't take it wouldn't make it. I learned that what I thought was good and right was not considered good nor right. I learned that work was not about "saving the planet." I had to be a predator in this world.
At thirty, I sat in a hotel room in the city of love bleeding and crying from being raped on the streets of Paris. I was stalked and taken. Still I gathered up my dignity from the heap of self left lying in a foreign door well. I told no one.
After that, everything that I had learned came to me with the pounding sweat of a recurring nightmare. It haunted my dreams and ran my waking life. These learnings of the wounded heart, the wounded profession, and the wounded world lived within my blood. Now I was openly bleeding and I could not stop. I knew now that the blood stains showed. There could be no more hiding.
Both the feminine and masculine in me were wounded. My intuition had been denied. My nurturance had become a tool to get love and be a good girl. I had sucked my relationships dry. My cognitive ability had become my easiest and favored mode of gaining approval. I saw a world in which no one was protected. So, I learned to control and compete. I had squandered my self on achievement and being the outward good girl. Unless I changed there would be no more self to squander.
At thirty two I sat on my bed, unable to move, unable to cry. I surrendered. I believed in that moment that I would die. I was disappointed that I didn't. Then the voices came. The ones that I had heard in childhood-- before the bleeding, before the locked rooms. The voices of trees and animals and the earth called to me and I heard them once again. They told me that I was loved-- that I was connected to all living things. I learned from them to listen and see beyond the pain into the moment of change that was available to me. They gently guided me to a shamanic path of knowing-- the Journey Way.
Through this path I have learned many things. I learned balance through introspection, acceptance of pain, cleansing and ceremony. I learned to nurture myself. I became my own good mother. I learned to love without agenda. From this, I learned to nurture and love my friends, mates, clients and students. More importantly, I learned to see and be with the parts of them that needed love and nurturance.
I learned to trust my intuition and inner voice. When I did this, I learned that what I thought was right and good was right and good. I learned to protect myself without attacking others. I became my own good father. Through this I learned to feel love for those who attacked or opposed me. When I did this we were both healed.
The Journey Way has changed my blood. I am neither prey nor predator. I will never again return to the locked room. Today I sit in my home-- no more bleeding. No more hiding. I am a wonderful woman but not a good girl. To heal the world-- I began by healing myself. I found the predator inside. Before confronting it we are all prey. By confronting it I am adding my special part to changing this predator/ prey society.