only through tragedy is hard won resuscitation earned when the netting of pain and clouds of sinister motives lift then joy easily filters back in settling and surrounding our once wounded essence
a deep sigh of relief accompanies this return to peace the torture of held in and poured out tears whether recent or distant, they are left to the past the present beckons intentional breaths of inhaled calm and renewal ushering in a return to the land of the living
Every book that I read
Every movie that I see
Every song that I hear
I let it change me
Every person that I meet
Every event that I partake
Every emotion that I feel
I let it change me
Like a snake
Shedding its skin
Only to cover itself
With a new one
To let go
Of the parasites
A new stage of growth
Every step that I take
Every choice that I make
Every breath that I take
I let it change me
Discovered on The Drabble, a beautiful poem written from the perspective of an African Muslim Woman about identity and self-discovery. It’s written so honestly and yet so delicately. Hope you enjoy it! 🙂
This piece absolutely hit home for me on so many levels. So relatable!
I was 44 when I first identified the role I’d been playing my entire life. Or, that I even realized I was playing a role. We all are. You know this, right? The role you are assigned depends on so many variables outside of your control. The country you live in, the schools you attend, the religion you practice, your gender, the television you watch…all contribute to determining what your role is. Right down to the family you are born in to… it all conditions you to play the role you are assigned. It starts from day one, so you don’t even realize it’s not your decision. It just is.
I think my role was mostly determined by the family I was raised in. And my gender. The role was of a quiet, submissive, obedient “seen and not heard” good girl. It’s a pretty easy role to play. All I had to do was keep my mouth shut for most of my days and I was all set. No questioning anything, no arguing…just keep quiet, don’t make waves and all will be well. If someone tells you to do something, you do it. Simple. That’s all I knew. Not to brag, but I was pretty damn good at it. I mean, even through abandonment, emotional neglect, abuse…I stuck to that role, dammit! I wasn’t happy, I struggled, and I certainly didn’t feel like a “good girl”…but I played that role. I think the struggle was because all of those things happened to me, and made me realize I was actually a bad girl. Playing the role became even more important. Maybe it would keep people from finding out just how bad I really was.
I became an adult, moved out and continued to struggle. BUT, when you can play the role like I can, no one really sees it. Not even me. I repeated cycles of bad relationships, tolerating bad behavior, never believing in myself, because hey…what else was there? Nothing I had ever known. When my husband eventually found out, he told me I should win the Academy Award. I’m THAT good!!!
At least I was good at something.
Fast forward to age 44: I went to therapy. Hallelujah! I peeled off a few layers and realized I had been typecast in a very bad, bad role. I kept playing the same shitty character in the same shitty movie, over and over and over again. The movie was so shitty, no one ever watched it. It went straight to Blue Ray. The plot was kind of like Cinderella…minus her getting to go to the ball. Can you imagine Cinderella ending with her just staying at home, being bullied and unloved? Who wants to watch a movie with a horrible plot that never ends? Not me. Not any longer, at least. I couldn’t even remember my lines anymore.
Brene Brown says vulnerability is the birthplace of courage. She didn’t study shame and vulnerability for 20 years for nothing, you know. So, here’s what I did: I dove into the vulnerability swamp, which was full of my shame, of all that “badness”, and I became brave for the very first time in my life. That’s right…I stepped out of that role.
The thing about stepping out of character in a movie is, the directors get PISSED. It throws off the entire equilibrium of the set. No one knows what to do when the actor ad libs. It becomes awkward and uncomfortable and all the directors want to do is get the actor back in that role so no one can see they aren’t in control of their film. Except it’s not their film. It’s life. And they can’t control my life any more than I can control theirs. And seriously, no one gives a SHIT about this shitty movie…no one is even WATCHING!
I’ll give you one guess as to what happened next. Yep. I got kicked off the set. Was told I’d never work in town again. My new role was an exaggerated version of my childhood role… scapegoat. All of the production problems were now being blamed on me. Even the ones that had nothing to do with me. I guess it’s just easier that way. Kinda stinks, because I loved that crew. It was like the Truman show…been with some of them since day one. Don’t get me wrong, there’s not enough fame or money in the world to get me to play that sad character again. It makes me sad that they won’t let me play a different role, one that’s more suited for me. I don’t need to play a princess that gets to go to the ball and meet her Prince Charming. I’d settle for them just letting me be the authentic me, and loving me anyway. Not sure they know what that means, though.
(This updated scapegoat role sucks. If you’re not careful, it might drive you crazy. Or literally crack your heart into pieces)
Anyway, life is not a fairy tale. So I’m moving on, trying to manage my own production company. It’s not too complicated. There’s only one actor to manage. And no script. However, the entire world is my audience…
This post was written in response to Linda G. Hill’s Stream of Social Consciousness Saturday