Breaking my silence about domestic violence was so confusing. Conflicting. Humbling. Empowering. And everything in between. Before realising that my entire external community was tainted, I honestly thought there was something wrong with me. I believed the lies that I was the one with the problem. I had moments of clarity in recognizing that I’m having a normal human response to an abnormal human experience. But for the most part, I thought there was something wrong with me.
For 2 years, I threw myself into certification programmes. Took just about every self-help course I could get my hands on. Averaged a book a week. Consumed, reflected, purged, reflected, consumed some more. My life was being stuck inside my head. Trying to make sense of my heart. Observing the feelings rather than being the feelings and then being the feelings without awareness that I was lost in a sea of emotions.
Some days, the dots connected in positive ways. Other days the dots connected in very humbling ways. During times of high duress (whether actual or perceived), my default had been a physical connection. Often times lying to myself that what I craved was a connection to the outside world but really it was me being scared of disconnection with self. Society keeps preaching that one is only whole after finding their soul mate. But what if I’m my own soul mate? What if I’m all that I need? All that I desire? Rather than engage in physical activity with another, I learn to make love to myself? I’m not talking about masturbation. I’m talking about the art of making love, tantric love to self. Not in the physical realm but in the spiritual. Subconscious or super subconscious style…
I have extreme moments of celibacy. For me, it’s because I have a tendency to get lost in the emotion of things. I love being in love. I love the butterflies. I love the possibility. I love enjoying the exact moment whilst getting lost in the idea of building and sharing an adventure with another. Sometimes I enjoy the concept of being in love rather than actually being in love. And that’s when I recognize that I’m in a rabbit hole. It’s not that I’m hesitant of being in love, it’s that I’m still questioning if my love is being shared with a familiar soul or a kindred soul. It shouldn’t matter but it does.
Last summer, I was in Italy. After a triathlon, I was raped. Shortly after, my soul begged the Universe to put decent people on my path. I needed a pause to process what had happened. I couldn’t handle additional bombardments, negotiations or side steps. Being in the wrong company during a vulnerable moment could easily destroy me. So my soul begged the Universe for help. A few days after, I was presented with a series of men. Decent men. One that read parts of the bible to me. Another that became my local tour guide. An athlete that took me on a roadtrip to see some of the most beautiful churches (and learn where the Pope spends his summers). People that cooked for me. Love bugs that spoke to all parts of me except my body. The most important part was kindness. Empathy. Compassion. Self-control. I shared with all these men that I had been attacked. Rather than dismiss my experience, they held space for me. They reminded me that not all men are animals. Through actions, they took it upon themselves to prove it to me. Men that saw my heart and fanned my inner light. Men that could have easily tapped into my desire for physical connection but knew without knowing what was best for me. Space. Self-care. Sharing energy during a vulnerable moment can be super powerful. Sharing energy with the wrong people could be devastating. And all these men knew that even if my body was saying ‘it’s ok’ they felt my soul saying ‘not yet’. It’s not a matter of mixed signals, it’s a matter of hesitation. Hesitation of being unsure. Hesitation of knowing I want to do something but not sure what to do. Hesitation that for them, they laughed with confidence, unless you are fully present and 100% sure, what is the point? And that is what makes a lover, a lover.
With so many thoughts racing through my head. With another wave of male attention. I’m at a crossroad once again. Last night, after my support group meeting, I was riding my bike. Befriended by a kindred soul. We had a chat and somewhere throughout the chat we ended up talking about (me) buying land in Italy and (him) running an air b&b in Ireland. Then we talked about sheep vs goats. Rather than judge me for having such lofty aspirations, he leaned in with sharing his goals. Family, personal, passion projects. And the moment I realised that my soul had once again called out to the Universe, is when he invited me to church. My soul asked the Universe for another flow of decent human beings. People to reinstate my faith in humanity. People that hear the message in my heart. People that hear the words flowing and offer ways to support me levelling up. People bringing me into their community.
A message of “If you want to go fast, go alone. If you want to go far, go together.” and he knew the power of connecting good souls because that’s how to create magic and have a positive impact on the world…
Filled with love and basking in peace. I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be…
#Resilience #Trauma #Recovery #Love #Soulships #KindredSpirits #CreateMagic #SelfCare