Learner’s Permit
I was reflecting the other day that in my 45 years, I have had an estimated 100 physically intimate encounters, and of those, I was a full yes to only 5 of them. In this moment of acknowledgement, my first thought was a harsh judgment. Specifically I thought, “This is pretty pathetic.” I then felt an immense grief well up inside of me, pressing down on my chest like a wrestler being pinned down for the final count. I protected the pain of this truth with another judgment. How could I have chosen to be in these situations that didn’t feel good to me? Although I have come many leagues since my teenage years in terms of sexual awareness and desire, my lifelong subconscious pattern of yielding to others still rears its head in subtle ways.
I sat with the stark reality of my past decisions for a few days, and it was damn clear that moving forward I did not want to let this wounded part of me take the lead in intimate connections ever again. Part of not repeating this pattern was to gain an even deeper understanding of what exactly triggered my undesirable behaviors. I wanted to determine, down to the millisecond, when the switch flipped, so that I could easily anticipate when this subversive pattern might occur and have a plan for implementing a new option. The tricky thing was I proceeded with this troublesome behavior in situations that were not at all threatening, where the other person was relatively passive in our interactions. It would have been just as easy to say no as it was to go along with it. I was not intoxicated or under the influence of anything (most of the time), so this was not an excuse. I also made this choice in long-term relationships where we built at least some semblance of communication between one another. I was an automaton, going through the motions, that I had come to know would please men. I simply couldn’t find the courage to speak my truth and say, “I don’t want to do this.” Instead I yielded into what I thought was my obligation. I let the other person touch me, kiss me, and lay on top of me, while I thought about other things, drifting off to far away places I would much rather be.
I stopped being appalled that my “lover” didn’t notice my lack of participation by the time I was 15. Clearly that wasn’t an important part of this game of sex, or so I thought. For many years I judged them, but deep down I was really judging myself, for abandoning myself. The truth of my choices was too painful to face, and so for years I continued to abandon myself again and again. I let myself feel “confused” by sex and men rather than face the stark reality that I had a distorted view of what I thought a woman’s role was supposed to be during sexual encounters. It also kept me in control, protecting my tender heart from getting hurt. I saw that if I continued to abandon myself, then I could not (once again) be abandoned by another. This skewed perspective caused me a lot of pain and distance in relationships. On the one hand, I felt embedded within every cell a sexual empowerment where I felt God coursing through me, connecting me with my lover in awesome states of ecstasy and pleasure. It was a deeply spiritual experience. On the other hand, my lived experience was disconnected, numb, and uneventful. I yearned to reconcile the cellular memory I felt buzzing in my being with the dismal version of intimate relationships I had come to know.
It wasn’t until I studied trauma that I understood I was freezing in the face of a “predator”. This, in fact, is a healthy thing to do, and certainly a normal thing for the nervous system to do when it feels threatened. Ahhhhh exhale. I didn’t do something wrong. I did something right! All these years of self-blame and judgment about why I didn’t do this or do that, I let go of in a moment’s awareness. Now I had to integrate the pain of those experiences and carve a new path as the woman who shows up for herself every time no matter what (and when I don’t… I am the woman who forgives herself immediately and says, “It’s ok. I know how to do it better next time and I will.”)
Every moment is a chance for us to be reborn and try again. Every experience is an opportunity to do it better and choose to become the women we want to be. The faster we can forgive ourselves, the faster we embody our desired outcomes. We can make mistakes and still be women of integrity that honor ourselves and our visions. When we dedicate ourselves to conscious growth, lovingly choosing to do the best we can moment to moment, we always succeed. It may take time and repetition to work with deeply ingrained patterns of disempowerment. Yet every time we choose to embody what we truly want, our trust muscle is strengthened. It can be a painful, bumpy ride, AND we are inevitably moving on an upward spiral towards the light. Will you let the warmth and illumination reinvigorate you, and soften your heart into unadulterated faith? Regardless of our past experiences, we can change, and become every thing we want to be. If we choose what we truly desire, and commit to it, in each moment, with every fiber of our being, then everything becomes possible. And we are unshakeable.
Dare to Desire!
Kristen