“How do you feel about guns in the house?”

A question that keeps coming up. “Jess, how do you feel about guns in the house?”

Such a loaded question, no pun intended… *awkward sigh*

Well, being a survivor of domestic violence, specifically gun violence, this question is rather complex. I do not have a straightforward answer. I’m not entirely sure how to address this question. I’m not sure how I feel about it. There are so many variables. So many layers. Spiritually. Physically. Emotionally. To what layer should I share my sentiments? You know I’m a survivor of gun violence right?! I’m simply not sure what thoughts to share and which thoughts to burry in the deepest part of my heart. You know, the place where I can protect myself from well, me.

Guns are guns. People are people. Guns do not kill people. People kill people.

So if the question, ‘Jess, how do you feel about guns in the house’ really means, ‘Jess, do you trust me?’ then that’s a bit easier to address. Do I trust others? Does it really matter if I trust others? Perhaps the question is do I trust myself? I mean, it’s NEVER about trusting other people. It’s always about trusting myself and my processing and my ability to remove myself from a situation that no longer serves me. Remove myself from situations that could cause me harm. Remove thoughts from my world. Some might call it failing at being an adult whilst others will accept my ‘law of attraction’ state of being.

Unpacking how I feel about the presence of guns.

The first man society taught me to trust is my biological father. My biological father is a man whom I love dearly. I do, if he completed his anger management courses and showed up with hat in hand and asked for a chance to rebuild our relationship, I would allow him back into my life. I would. He’s my biological father. But the truth of the matter is that the government took away both his guns and his FOID card in 2004. In 2004, he threatened my life by strangling me. In 2009, he put a [loaded] gun in my face. I am pretty sure that he still does not have his FOID card. So if the government doesn’t trust him, why should I? If the government hasn’t forgiven him, why should I? The ONLY rules that I told him, to be in my world are to speak to me with loving words and control his anger. So, a biological father does something that is essentially unforgivable and yet, I have forgiven him. Forgiveness is for me, not him. I accept that he does not think that I’m worth the effort. I accept that he does not love me in a way that I understand. I also accept that my heart is soft toward my biological family. But I also appreciate that my heart and my head are best friends so my boundaries are fierce. And to earn a place in my world, my boundaries need to be respected. My presence needs to be honoured. My biological father destroyed my faith in humanity. My biological father was the first man I was asked to trust. He broke that trust. He shattered my heart in so many ways by not only breaking that trust but telling me through actions that my life doesn’t matter. So do I trust anyone enough to have a gun? Such a loaded question… answering means that I have come to terms with the shattered relationship between me and the first man I was told to trust. I’m not sure…

Going a bit deeper… I believe in the law of attraction. I believe this law with all my heart. I believe that thoughts become words. I believe that words become things. I believe that what you put out into the Universe will come back. Applying this concept to guns… I think that having a gun means the Universe will give you a reason to use it. Irrelevant to whether or not I trust someone, the Universe will create an opportunity for this gun to be used. I believe this with all my heart. So from a spiritual perspective, I’m just going to accept this information and remove it from my space. My fate is not determined by another person. The gun is THEIR gun, not mine. Their Universal pull, not mine. I decided that it’s not a part of my world and I will give it ZERO thought or words after hitting publish to this blog post.

From a practicality perspective. A former lover and I were talking about family planning. He wanted a gun to protect the family. Logically, it’s a fear based mindset. Not magical. Fear. ‘A gun would make me feel safe.’ Such a sad world we live in where a gun is what can make someone feel safe. I understand but do not agree. I pity this mindset. My heart breaks for this logic. If you own a gun, the gun would obviously be in a locked box. Unloaded. Put someplace where children could not access. Bullets stored separately. So in the event that someone attacks the house, the time it takes to unlock the box, load the gun, and then come back to the ‘situation of home invasion’, the intruder has already silenced the children and had his way with me, sexually. Or a more PG version, the intruder made himself a sandwich and a pot of tea to patiently wait for the duel of the century. Makes perfect sense? *shakes my head* Clearly, my tree-hugging-hippy-lover-of-the-universe side comes out. My solution to protecting the family is having a dog. They are loyal. They can sense things that we humans cannot. More importantly, they love us unconditionally… so they can ease whatever fear is in our heart by laying in our lap, covering our face with kisses, snoring in our ear… or just wagging their tail in the unquestionable excitement that we are THEIR EVERYTHING.

“Jess, how do you feel about guns in the house?”

I think the answer is “Why do you feel the need to have the gun?”

More importantly, I need to ask myself. Since my heart would be so willing to allow my biological father back into my world, where do I need to focus my continued healing? Allowing him back into my world would not be healthy for me. I know this. Logically, I can understand this concept. Can I say the same thing, emotionally? I’m not sure…

The journey continues…

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #HealthyBoundaries #Forgiveness #GunViolence #DysfunctionalFamily #RedefineFamily #JourneyToPeace

 

Being a survivor of Domestic Violence

And every once in a while the Universe decides to congratulate me with a string of decent people. Or perhaps I’m always surrounded by decent people, it’s just when I’m at peace with myself and the world, that I can properly identify the decent people. I’m not sure…

Breaking my silence on domestic violence has been heartbreaking. It’s been scary on a few levels. To talk about domestic violence means to acknowledge that it happened. To share what was in my heart means others could take advantage of my vulnerability. (believe me, being taken advantage of during my healing has been more difficult to process than the domestic violence itself. I have seriously had to question humanity on VARIOUS occasions). To keep hitting publish and share my story (and my processing) was extremely overwhelming. Of course, at first, I was concerned with my reputation. Socially, I’m known as the biggest cheerleader and love bug. Professionally, I’m known as being super resourceful and accomplishing near-impossible tasks. To my family, nothing is ever good enough for them. To myself… I was lost in the chaos. I know I am a person of good character but I didn’t know what to believe because I shut down my mind and just poured out my heart. Emotions are not rational. Nothing makes sense when emotions are involved. Nothing. This last year has been my biggest life challenge. An emotional challenge to confront, accept, process, let go, forgive, and grow from domestic violence.

Yesterday, I made a comment that my radar was off. Familiar vs Kindred. I was still seeing things through a rose-coloured lens rather than as truth. I acknowledged I have been giving my heart to others in hopes they were cut from the same cloth. I often joke about #PrettyGirlProblems but the most heartbreaking moment still remains, when, I realise a guy wants nothing more than a piece of my body. Not my heart, but my body. Perhaps it’s a justified chip on my shoulder or perhaps it’s a sign of unprocessed pain. All I know is the last guy I dated, I was forced to remove sex from the relationship. He made a crude comment exposing his fear of commitment (shadow fear of abandonment) and I interpreted it as an attack on my character. So I communicated I was removing sex to create space to build a stronger foundation of trust. It was up to him to let me know once he trusted me. Disappointingly, it took less than 2 weeks before his comments of love turned into comments of well, not love. I cut and run as soon as I realised my vulnerable moment phone calls were no longer to him but to others. I was not being emotionally supported. I was not being honoured. I was not being understood. I was not being respected. I was not being loved. There is nothing wrong with my emotional processing or my being. I’m not better or worse than others. I’m just different. Through the last year, I’ve been able to articulate exactly what I’m feeling. I’ve bridged the gap between emotions and thinking patterns. I’ve bridged the gap between my head and my heart. They are best friends now… and it’s quite magical. Others have not embraced or travelled the same path and that’s OK. I know they loved me the only way they knew how…

Maintaining a state of detachment is not easy. I’m already very good at understanding various perspectives at once. For example, a few months ago, my mother was in a bad place. She was surrounded by people that were not celebrating her and she lashed out at me. He words cut straight to my heart. She said that my breathing was a problem. She said I was the reason for all of her problems. In the moment, I was hurt. A few moments later, I understood her words were how she was feeling about herself, not how she felt about me. My love language is positive affirmations and service. I am able to forgive people for saying horrible things but only if they approach me first. Admitting that something hurtful was said cannot be after I call out the injustice. They have to take the first step to reflect on their behaviour and fix the situation, not me. My feelings matter. My existence matters. I’m capable of tremendous love and it’s often dismissed. I would never leave the side of someone who acknowledges there is a problem but how can I stick around if I’m the one being accused of being the problem? It’s a terrible position to be in. It’s a constant state of lose-lose.

All of these moments come flooding into my head and heart space. My heart space is still my mother. My mommabear. All I want is for her to call me and reinforce that she wants to see a therapist together. To acknowledge that there is a problem and it’s NOT me. To be open to receive my love without judgement. I’m exhausted in proving my love towards her. I’m exhausted to remind her of her magic. Especially when she continues to allow others in her space that make life unnecessarily difficult.

The real challenge is to decide what does love look like? To me, it’s understanding all my garbage. It’s fighting for me when I’m not willing to fight for myself. It’s being a spicy meatball when I’m a wet noodle (sometimes I need to be vulnerable). It’s knowing when to just hug it out. When to apologise. When to talk and when to give space to breathe. To me, love is a conscious decision to show up every.single.day. Some days are better than others but just keep showing up. My life has been filled with moments of me fighting for others but not so many moments of people fighting for me.

What is love? Love is knowing that I could have been killed in December 2009; the world could be without a Jessica Marie Corvo. But it’s not. I’m here. I survived. And to me, love is honouring, respecting, and celebrating that I’m here. My existence matters. And I am worthy.

The day my childhood bedroom turned into a crime scene.

Cleaning up the fog with a soft heart and a strong mind.

So many things to say but I’m unable to find the right words. My heart is conflicted on a few levels. The last few weeks, it’s been cluttered with embracing being discarded by my mother, betrayed by my great auntie, emotionally dismissed by my great uncle, criticised by a lover, chased by kindred souls, supported by friends, and… loved by me.

I feel like the Father in Guess Who Is Coming to Dinner. I’m trying my hardest to make sense of everything when my default is to simply get lost in the emotion of it all. Get swept away in a tizzy of magic. But life has taught me that the only way to maintain a soft heart is to have a strong mind. To which events can I allow my heart to recklessly dance and to which events do I need to protect my heart with something fierce? Which words plant (or water) seeds to inspire growth vs which actions are being perceived with my foggy lens?

‘If you love something, let it go. If it comes back, then it’s meant to be.’ Perhaps that’s love but then how does the concept of putting yourself out there play into it? Since my near-death experience in 2009, I made a promise to myself to always express what’s in my heart (aka letters of gratitude). Even if I think I would be rejected, it was more important (to me) that others knew how much I cared about them or why I was grateful for their presence. To confess my feelings doesn’t cost me anything but it could cost me everything. To say I love you is not something that costs anything… but when considering the missed opportunity of a lifelong bond, that cost is something that I wouldn’t want to endure. Too many times, I hear about others with regrets “I wish I told him/her that I loved them” “I wish that I hit snooze just one more time to hold the person I loved” “I wish that I woke up to experience you witnessing magic” (this last one was said to me in the context of watching me get lost in Jess World… specifically observing me as I watch the colors of the sunrise/sunset dance across the sky… that said, the same person also thought that it was cute to see my nostrils flare when something bothered me all I could manage to say was I’M FINE). People crack me up.

It’s no secret that I’m a love bug. Perhaps self-proclaimed. Perhaps socially acknowledged. I’m not sure. I know that sharing my healing journey has allowed others to fall in love with me more freely. There is a certain magic that comes along with being naked. Soul naked. Exposed. Fully. After all, one can easily fall in love with my smile but one can only truly fall in love when they understand the pain in the deepest part of my heart. For this space is where my deepest love resides. And sharing my pain reveals the depth of my love. Who wouldn’t be captivated with such a tremendous vulnerability?

I’m trying my hardest to focus on the people that celebrate me. The people that create space for me. I’m still trying to take up space. As a matter of fact, my mantra (in my diary) for Monday-Thursday is “TAKE UP SPACE”. I’m not taking criticisms very well. Compliments are great but the criticisms are not good. Backhanded compliments are not compliments. Direct, slap me in the face “you have a beautiful heart’ ‘your soul is speaking to me’ ‘I feel your presence’ ‘I need to see you’ are the best type of compliments. They remind me that not only am I loved but I’m honoured, celebrated, and worthy.

There are a number of people that are reading my blog that will question if my words are directed towards them. If you think they are, then yes. Trust your gut. Follow the flow. Do more of whatever makes your heart beat faster. Surround yourself with what makes your soul feel at peace.

The last few weeks, I have made mistakes and have not been forgiven for them. I have been overwhelmed with emotions and when expressed, I am rejected rather than embraced. Each time, the rejection hurts less. So I take it as a growth. 3 weeks ago, the support structure that I invested 9 months building, collapsed. I know that I’m never alone but that was the first time that I felt completely alone. It’s during the moments of being alone that the mind is able to quiet the noise and listen to the heart. When this happens, my walls go up. If anything to create space for myself to reconnect. Disconnect from others to reconnect to self. At the end of the day, self-love is the best love. And figuring out what I need, not want, but need, is essential for wellness.

Life is magical. Fact. But it’s the people that cross your path that bring things to life. People are what give things purpose. People will come and go. Usually lugging their own garbage. Some will throw their garbage. Others will try to hide it. The most special people are the ones that show up, every.single.day. They acknowledge both their own garbage and mine. They never try to clean my garbage, they just sit next to me as I clean it up myself. They offer hugs when I want to collapse and a whisper ‘just keep going’ when I lose my way. 3 weeks ago, I lost my way.

Life is magical. Absolutely. Without question. And now, I’m in a space of people that say, ‘I see your garbage and I have some too. It’s all going to be OK because I believe in you.’

I’m proud to be the White Sheep in a dysfunctional (bio) family

Last week, I had an interesting phone call. It was from a person that was pretending to care about me and my healing journey. It was odd but expected. I didn’t entertain his judgements. As a matter of fact, it was easy to deflect and even easier to understand knowing that this was the first time that I stood my ground with ‘My feelings are valid’. According to him, my existence is not valid because he expected me to apologise for being hurt because someone betrayed my trust. Chances are he is reading my blog to see what I have to say about the ordeal. I assume this because that’s how dysfunction works, they provoke then stalk. They want to see if they are important enough to elicit an emotional response. To be honest, it’s nothing more than a game.

I can easily say that they have their own demons to fight. I can pity them for lashing out. I knew things would get ugly because these people come from the mindset that family is family. They think that holding the title family gives you the right to be rude, crude and socially unacceptable. They can walk away from others without a care in the world but when someone walks away from them, it’s a situation. It’s baffling but also understandable. I just wish that they didn’t use my Grandfather’s good name in the conditioning/mirroring process because they are NOT deserving of that honour. If my Grandfather was alive, he would be disappointed to know these people treated me in the manner in which they treated me. I did nothing to deserve to have my trust betrayed. They were allowed into my world for about 9 months. I allowed them access to me for 9 months and they were quickly removed after I found out they betrayed my trust. They confronted me. A bit of baiting during the confrontation. Easy decision to walk away. I’m proud of myself because my processing is improving. More importantly, my self-love is also improving.

In terms of defining family (society definition is DNA), it took me years to decide what to do with my biological father. It took me months to decide what to do with my biological mother. It took me a few hours to decide what to do with my Great Aunties/Uncles. Society seems to preach that family is family and one should always respect their elders and be seen, not heard. Perhaps those ideas are just in my family but still… I define family with love, loyalty, and respect. To me, these people are NOT family. I made a simple request. It was not respected so I walked away. Simple. Leaving resulted in being called Garbage (auntie) and that I need professional help (uncle). And for what? Because I left my mom’s house under protest to seek refuge with them? I left to avoid being bombarded by a game playing brother only to be bombarded by game playing (and deceitful) aunties. Classic Corvo move. Classic. I was clouded by the idea of Grandpa that I completely missed the fact that they are more similar to the dysfunctional part of the family as opposed to the functional side. Very interesting plot twist! Very important lesson. I did not expect that to happen. BUT as any good twist, there is always a lesson to be learned.

The lesson for this set of betrayals is writing a book. Redefining family. I’ve already been testing out some material on various social media platforms. I’ve also connected with some pretty amazing people in the Domestic Violence space. My creative juices are flowing. My energy is stable. My mind is clear. My heart still hurts a bit but it’s part of the process. The healing process. It’s amazing the amount of growth that takes place when surrounded by people that actually care. Love really does conquer all! And I keep proving resilience to myself. When I left the midwest, my heart was broken. I didn’t want to leave but I had to leave. I cried the entire drive to Florida at the thought that my mother was suffering or that she thought I didn’t care. She has the devil whispering in her ear and he’s been working on her for 19 weeks so staying would not have been productive for anyone. But I cried most of the drive south. My aunties had been trying to get me to Florida since the first week of July. It took me nearly 2 months to accept their invitation. 2 months. They offered hugs and love and delivered judgements and betrayal. This type of disharmony is expected when dealing with anyone in the family. It’s sad, but expected.

From a gratitude perspective, I’m actually relieved that things unfolded the way that they did. These people cannot manage a conversation without spilling the beans about others in the family. If they are telling me someone else’s business, they are telling others my business. It’s pretty basic. So realizing this now keeps my life simple and drama free. I’m grateful that I was able to see their true intentions.

From a spiritual perspective, the faster I remove toxic, the quicker I can be engulfed with love. Since I didn’t confront this situation, it was very interesting how quickly the Universe wanted to celebrate my self-control. I had a series of positive affirmations and ‘Earth Angels’ to show that I was on the right path. It was pretty magical.

From a healing perspective, the betrayal hurt. Betrayal always hurts. One of my soft points is shifting from freeze to flight. And from flight to fight. Silence is a response but when they confronted me, I was able to articulate to one auntie “I’m in an emotional state and cannot be reasonable. I am leaving for a few hours to collect my thoughts. When I come back, I will advise if I will stay or if I will leave.” Being able to articulate that is kind of badass. I was totally provoked and shut it down like a pro. The next day, when I was called by my uncle, I could have easily sent the phone call to voicemail. I could have also said a few choice words. Rather, I accepted his distorted view of the situation and asked if there was anything else that he felt I needed to work on. Being able to say that is also proof of my healing.

From an ego perspective, I didn’t argue or defend. I take that back, there was a moment where one auntie went on some tangent about me ignoring her emails. I showed her the emails where she failed to respond to me. Her projection put me on the defensive for a few minutes. She knew that she betrayed me and was trying to find a way to shift the blame. I quickly realised the game and disengaged. Liars lie and dysfunctional people don’t apologise. It’s pretty basic. It’s all a game.

Nothing more than a game. I’ve officially stopped playing. They were my last attempt at reconnecting with DNA based family. It didn’t work. I accept that. Now it’s time to refocus and invest my energy into people that are worthy of my time. My magic. My presence. My family is sprinkled all around the world. I have accepted my new title, I am PROUD to be the WHITE SHEEP of the Corvo family.

The family I created during my 11 years of living in Asia has shown me more love and support than anyone I share DNA with. It’s so simple and yet it took this last string of betrayals for me to accept that family is simply NOT family. Family is love, loyalty, and respect. Nothing more or less.

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #NoMeansNo #Betrayal #RedefineFamily #ItsOKtoNotBeOK #DysfunctionalFamily #UnhealthyBoundaries #Projections #HurtPeopleHurtPeople #NotTodaySatan #SmokeAndMirrors #JourneyToPeace

 

Devaluation and Discard

The last 17 weeks have been anything but easy. It’s been confusing, heartwrenching, and soul-crushing. I have continued to push out words but very selective on what to share with the world. I was convinced that the new evil I was dealing with was darker than anything I had experienced before. I needed to disengage from all things to clear my head and give my heart space to seek the truth.

Last night, I had a dream. I was at my mother’s house. Her closet was empty. She had lots of bags of clothing. I asked what happened and she said that she was getting rid of anything with a cowl collar, stripes, or (insert other criteria that I cannot remember). I remember thinking that these things do not apply to her so there shouldn’t be clothing to get rid of. Rather than focus on the details, I focused on my emotional state in the dream: CONFUSION. I was confused because her justification made zero sense.

Hours before that, I was having a conversation with a kindred soul. I had a breakdown because I was trying to connect the dots. I knew that I needed to do a tech detox but I found myself jumping in /out of support groups online. I was seeking validation or understanding of what recently happened. I was scolded. I was told that it’s not time to understand but to accept. It’s time to just be. No more influence from others… just disconnect from the world to [re]connect to me. But I’m still in the cycle… and part of the cycle is connecting the dots. I understand functional and I also understand dysfunctional. I did not understand what just happened.

Back to the present moment, I jump on Instagram and the first three messages from the Universe brought it all together. They were not messages from people but messages from my newsfeed. The first message: Stage 5: Failure (The Empath will have pure intentions on loving the narcissist and want to do anything they can to help heal the narcissist, because they don’t see that the narcissist’s wounds are different from theirs. The reality is that the narcissist doesn’t believe they are damaged and they are immune to love, and therefore, cannot be healed by the empaths honest and pure efforts). The second message: Stage 8: The Shift (The empath will finally raise their voice and speak up because they can no longer stand the devaluing ways of the narcissist. The empath will be feeling devastated, exhausted and drained because of how the narcissist treats them and will also realise that their own emotional needs are not being met. The delusion of the relationship will fall away and the empath will start to resist the manipulation cycle. The narcissist does not like this shift in the relationship). The third message: Everyone has something to teach you even if they show you how not to be.

Then my mind started to wander to previous conversations. Last week, a different kindred soul planted a seed. The seed was that each time I try to help someone and it bites me in some way, it’s the Universe telling me that I wasn’t in my lane. I wasn’t meant to help that person. I was wrong therefore I needed to increase my awareness of healthy boundaries. A reminder that my role is NOT to help others but simply shed light. They need to help themselves.

And just like that, I shifted from an emotional state to a rational state. The last 17 weeks have been absolute crazytown. It’s been consistent (and progressive) messaging that I am not worthy. Attempts at sliding boundaries to get me to accept subpar treatment. I was experiencing the DEVALUATION stage of the abusive cycle. The more I tried to help, the louder the criticisms were that I was not doing enough. I left the situation under extreme protest. My heart wanted to be there to help but my gut knew that even Jesus himself couldn’t do right in their eyes. Swallowing the false guilt and walking away was not easy. I still feel like a horrible person but that’s only because my perspective is still shifting between how I view myself vs how they view me. I know that I did the right thing for me. I know that staying there would have resulted in a spiritual split. I know that I’m feeling the way that I’m feeling because for the first time, directly related to this specific person, my words of ‘enough is enough’ is being supported by actions, my absence.

I connected the dots. I was experiencing the DEVALUATION stage of an abusive cycle. The last stage is the discard. And her silence is that final stage. The longer she chooses her ego and her pain, the more it all makes sense. Rationally explaining all of this emotional turmoil that I’m experiencing. My family has been devaluing me for about a decade and only now am I able to see it for what it is. Entering the stage of DISCARD.

Last year, I was discarded by my biological father. Now it’s time to embrace what is meant to come and be gentle with me for the final stage of discard from my biological mother.

Nothing makes sense but all the dots are starting to connect. Connecting the dots is the only way for my heart to let go. Understand what is happening. Understanding the depth of dysfunction. Remind myself that it’s not me, but it’s them. I did nothing to deserve this. My breathing is not the problem. My existence is not the problem. I was simply part of a system that didn’t love themselves, therefore, didn’t know how to love me. They didn’t honour me. They knew how I felt and yet they continued to cause harm. That’s not love.

I am being devalued and discarded by the people that society wants me to call family.

#WhyIWrite #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #FamilyDysfunction #Family #Narcissism #NPD #Devaluation #Discard #ConnectingTheDots #Rewire #Alignment #JourneyToPeace

Life doesn’t happen to you, it happens for you

Being a survivor of domestic violence is not something that one can necessarily talk about at the dinner table. It’s a dirty secret that is socially unacceptable. Part of the healing process is the ability to speak about your experiences. The more you talk about it, the clearer your mind becomes on what is functional and what is dysfunctional. The conditioning period for victims can take days, months or years. So standards of acceptable behaviour can be all over the place.

I had many sidesteps during my healing journey. To be honest, healing never really stops. Healing is a conscious decision to never give up. It’s a decision to put yourself back into the driver’s seat. It’s making sure that you find the lesson in the abuse and use that to fuel something incredible.

One of the most powerful shifts for me was remembering that life doesn’t happen TO me, it happens FOR me. Early days of realising I was being abused, I had a lot of anger. Why would someone want to hurt me? What did I do to deserve this? What was it about me that made me vulnerable? So many questions. So many things to think about… And then there was a period of digesting so much information. It was trying to classify what was happening. Giving it a name and context. Then there was a tremendous amount of guilt and what seemed like countless toxic cycles that needed to be addressed and broken. Lots of inner work…

Life doesn’t happen to you, it happens for you.

Such a powerful statement. Historically, there have been so many people that insist that I focus on gratitude. Other people insist that I stay present. Some people promote resilience… and my favourite group of people simply celebrate all aspects without judgement and allow me to be the one to decide on when to apply what to when…

I’m breaking cycles like it’s my job. My only mission is personal wellness and reinforcing the internal messaging that I am worthy. My head knows this but my heart is being stubborn. My heart still insists on putting others before myself. This is the most difficult cycle to break but I’m well on my way. I will not be defeated.

I am worthy of the same magic that I offer others.

#WhyIWrite #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #Rewiring #Healing #Resilience #Recovery #ItsOKtoNotBeOk #OneDayAtATime #Perspective #JourneyToPeace

Dear Right Hand, Thank you for being

Dear Right hand,

Thank you. Thank you for being you and doing the things that you do. During this season of healing, lots of growth has taken place. Emotionally, I have been processing some deep seeded pain. The only way to successfully complete this process is through an awakening. A spiritual awakening. You have been one of the most important connectors throughout this process.

When something feels off, without hesitation, you instinctively put yourself over my heart. You stay there for a few minutes. You feel our heart beating. You remind me of our purpose. You remind me of our love. You remind me that change happens one beat at a time.

The simple action is never planned. It’s instinctive. You know before you know. You just do. This action connects two worlds… even if only for a brief moment. It’s like you called a timeout and force the head to think about the heart’s perspective and force the heart to think about the head’s perspective.

Through this process, you encourage understanding and also being present. There is no attachment, just observation. No pain, just observation. No troubleshooting, just observation. No validating, just observation. So thank you. Thank you for working with the spirit and all the other parts to physically touch the heart. Your presence encourages understanding of different perspectives…

This is essential for growth. Essential during an awakening. Essential for ultimate healing. You have been doing this for years and only now am I aware of it. It’s such a small gesture but a VERY powerful one.

So, dearest right hand, thank you. When emotions start to run, the mind jumps down the rabbit hole, or the spirit just feels a bit fuzzy… thank you for getting involved.

Thank you, dear right hand, for bringing awareness back to my heartbeat. Nothing else matters other than having your presence to remind me of the power behind my own heartbeat. Thank you for helping me be. Just be present.

With love and admiration,
Jess

#WhyIWrite #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #Rewiring #CoreWork #Awareness #Abuse #AbuseRecovery #Healing #Awakening #Recovery #Grounding #HealthyAttachment #LetterOfGratitude #LetterToHeal #JourneyToPeace

Dear Spirit, Thank you for being

Dear Spirit,

Thank you. This season has been one of the biggest challenges I’ve ever embraced. It was bigger than climbing corporate ladders. It was scarier than moving to a new country. It was emotionally, mentally, and spiritually destabilizing… There were moments when I wasn’t sure if I had lost the plot or if I was still on the right path.

I was forced to destroy my entire core belief system and rebuild myself from the bottom up. I had to constantly challenge my thinking and brainwash myself at cell level. I had to identify, accept, rewire, and break toxic cycles to heal.

This challenge got messy. Really, really messy.

The one thing that stayed constant is you. Even during my darkest hour, you flickered. When others tried to snuff you out, you held your ground. When the walls came crashing down, you stood tall. When the dysfunction increased, you remained still.

So thank you. Thank you for just being. Being present. Being strong. Being soft. Being supportive. Being protective. Being confrontational. Being gentle. Being forgiving. Being understanding. Being firm. Being fair. Being love. Being light. Being honest. Being brave. Being resilient…

Your being allowed me to be gentle on myself. At least by my standards. Others still think I have room for improvement in this space. But yes, your being has afforded me the space to heal. You were the quiet whisper to just.keep.going. You were the creator of the affirmations to assure me that I’m never alone. Heck, you were even the one that kept reminding me it’s OK to trust others. Despite everything, the secret to healing is to never stop trying. You encouraged me to keep putting myself out there, day after day, just keep sharing whatever is in my heart. Share the good. Share the bad. Share the ugly. Eventually, all the pieces will fall into place.

Processing deep seeded pain is one thing. Realising that your support network was more interested in you remaining a victim rather than becoming a survivor was devastating. Your ability to mediate between my head and my heart was incredibly valuable. The tug of war between these two was often. Your intervention was difficult to understand at times but I trusted you, blindly. You have never steered me wrong so I didn’t think this challenge would be any different. So thank you.

Thank you for knowing what to do when I was flapping like a fish out of water. Thank you for having my best interest in mind. Thank you for knowing that going through the difficult stuff is the only way to get past it. Because of your strength, I was able to sit [relatively] still and embrace all these lessons. Seek all these truths. Heal the deepest wounds. Find my voice. Build my confidence. Connect with my tribe of love bugs.

Every few years, I embrace a new stretch goal. A challenge that I cannot do when I set my intention but I know I will always be able to grow into and complete because of your presence. This specific challenge was to save my own life.

Thank you for being… simply being present as I navigated through family abuse. Being present as I opened my wounds to heal. Domestic Violence is an ugly thing but you helped me find the beauty. The beauty is in the strength [and presence] of your unshakable being.

Thank you, dear spirit, for simply being…

With love and so much gratitude,
Jess

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #Recovery #Family #Spirit #Resilience #SelfLove #SelfCare #LetterToHeal #LetterOfGratitude #Gratitude #Day2 #JourneyToPeace

Dear Heart, Thank you for being you!

Dear Heart,

Thank you for being so strong. This rewiring process has been filled with some intense challenges. I know that you get scared but I hope you know how proud I am of you. There is tremendous beauty in this entire healing process.

For years, you were punished for speaking up. For years when certain people found your happiness, they tried to destroy it. For years, you learned to live a life by protecting and purifying.

You fiercely protected things (and people) that were in your heart. Without hesitation, you did things to ensure that your love or loyalty were never to be questioned. Your focus has always been on others and how they felt. You knew the pain in betrayal and made special efforts that people in your world never experienced this feeling. People in your heart were always in good company and protected. This was important for you.

You also spent a great deal of time purifying. When people harmed you with their darkness, you justified their behaviour as simply being a bad day. You gave allowances because you believed in humanity. You convinced yourself of magic when sometimes magic didn’t exist. You hated to see people in pain so you did what you needed to do to continually build tolerance and resilience.

Now we are stepping into a new season. A season to celebrate and honour. You know this space well. You know how to celebrate others. You know how to honour their gifts. The challenge is to consistently celebrate and honour all the beautiful gifts that are within you. I know it’s scary. Celebrating has led to betrayal. Celebrating has also led to criticism (or misunderstanding). Honouring has led to setting (and maintaining) healthy boundaries. Honouring has also led to truth.

You are beautiful. From the inside out. You are one of the most beautiful things in the world. You embrace and radiate love on so many levels. You have the ability to find magic in others and now it’s time to celebrate and honour the magic within. A few months ago, in your eulogy, you mentioned that you wanted people to know the depth of your love. You wanted others to know the purity of your heart. It was heartbreaking to read these words because it meant that you viewed yourself through the lens of people trying to harm you. You were a bright light that was surrounded by darkness. You allowed the darkness of others into your space. You were expressing yourself rather than being yourself. There is nothing wrong with you. You are a bright light in so many ways.

It’s time to celebrate this light. It’s time to honour this light. It’s relishing in the simple things. Whether it’s a half watermelon and a spoon at the side of a lake, sprinkles on your hot chocolate or simply having the ability to connect with a kindred soul whilst watching the world turn. It’s the simple things. These things are openly celebrated but on limited occasions. It’s OK to be in Jess World. Consistently. The world needs more of Jess World. It’s time to celebrate and honour all the magical things that are in Jess World.

Thank you for stepping into this space. Thank you, heart, for being both strong and gentle. You’ve been strong for so long, it’s ok to let your guard down. Pull down the walls and just celebrate and honour. When people embrace, you found your tribe. When people condemn, you learn a new truth. Thank you, heart, for having so much grace. You are beautiful on so many levels. So.many.levels.

Sincerely yours,
Jess

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #BreakingCycles #Rewiring #Corework #Gratitude #SelfCare #SelfLove #DearHeart #LetterOfGratitude #LetterToHeal #BeMode #JourneyToPeace

In a sea of sharks… I was able to swim safely.

Last night was a huge deal for me. After spending the better part of a year as a part-time recluse, I attended a massive networking event. I have actively avoided networking events because I know that healing from trauma messes with my vibe. Some days are good and others are, well, overwhelming.

In order to process my pain, I have had to keep myself in an emotional state as much as possible. My ‘flow’ is that the world is magical. This is essentially true but this mindset is also what kept me in abusive cycles. For decades, I refused to see things as they were. I only focused on the silver lining and embodied love. Pure love. Embodying love is a choice. It takes an incredible amount of effort to get into this state of being and a fair bit of work to stay in it. I’ve said before that my heart is an unparalleled superpower.

So last night was interesting for a few reasons. Rather than just attend this massive networking event, I opted to volunteer. At first, I didn’t know why I reached out to the organisers to see if they needed help. Being an event person, was I just curious to see how people in Chicago ‘handled their business’? Was I sabotaging myself from networking by hiding behind self-imposed responsibilities? Perhaps I wanted a safe(ish) place to profile the attendees one-at-a-time? (I was the welcome wagon… reception). Was I nervous? A bit. But this was old hat. I have been organising events for the better part of 20 years. I’ve been attending events even longer. My sweet spot is to just be. Just be present. Be open to the magic but not available. My friends in Hong Kong used to tease me because they said that I mastered the ability to appear to be single but never available. It was like seeing a Unicorn. Magical but very rare. (My friends in Asia are the best and have a very funny perspective of how everything is a dating opportunity).

The event was with the Asian community… mostly young professionals. The vibe was 50% predatorial. Many people were on a clear mission. It was entertaining in so many ways… After I completed my volunteer duties, I jumped head first into the pool of sharks. Mind you, I was on an unofficial date of sorts. Romantic or not, there was only one person that I trusted in the entire room (outside of myself and others knew this). This person has been consistent in helping me protect my heart. He fully understands my intention for my healing journey. Perhaps he doesn’t understand the weight of certain components but he’s been present and adding value in so many ways. He often brings me into situations that remind me of my magic and this event was no different.

I do not try to understand if men can smell fresh blood or if my smile was sincerely that captivating. Was it my dry sense of humour at the door? My sarcasm was thick with certain people. My compliments were heavy with others. I fully understand that the city is huge but the social circles run small. Business cards were flying and one guy even wrote me a love note saying “You’re gorgeous. Let’s grab dinner”. He made sure to ask my name and if one of the guys was my boyfriend. I’ll give him credit for asking. It’s not like anyone actually knew anything about me so he could not have asked others for insights. He also commented how he had been trying to grab my attention all night but there were too many guys with the same agenda. It was an interesting observation (and very true to be honest). Parts of the night, I felt like I was the only female in the room. Other parts of the night, I was just so tickled to see my dear friend. I always enjoy time with a pure heart.

Time wise, I arrived at the location around 450pm. My official volunteering duties started at 530. Doors opened to VIPs at 6. The main bunch arrived from 7. I was part of a 3-person team at reception. We manned the front of the house until 9. I dipped out at 1215 to catch the last train out of the city.

I was more-or-less the person to hand out the VIP wristbands so I guess that was another reason for people to be nice to me. Maybe. But the really interesting part of the entire night was the approaches. I forgot what it felt like to be in the wild. To garner attention in the most comical ways. When I was running global events for a commodities trading company, I would often have people jumping through hoops to get my attention. I was focused on my career so knew it was because of what I had access to, not because they were trying to date me. But again, being single but never available was part of the role I played. I had to make people feel comfortable to approach me but have fierce boundaries with a smile…

Presence is one of the most powerful attributes of a person. My experience is that most do not even know what to do with a fully present person. Especially nowadays, distractions are in abundance making it very rare to be with people willing to get lost in the moment.

I digress.

I met people in government positions. Small business owners. Professional networkers. Club promoters. A bouncer. Invited to join a dragonboat team. Some mental wellness people (a therapist working with autism and brain injury and then also a PhD level therapist that focuses on case studies of trauma victims). The last was NOT entertained by me being an advocate of mental wellness despite domestic violence. She promotes the need for family involvement as part of the healing process. I challenge her that domestic violence is typically family that is causing the trauma… Perhaps a conflict of interest because I do not support the concept of seeking support from the same people causing harm. My workshop is called #BeYourOwnHero for a reason. My interest is based on personal experience of overcoming extensive trauma. I offered to collaborate in some way but she was dismissive of other viewpoints. Theory vs experience. I get it. It’s such an unnecessary barrier of forward movement and a missed opportunity for me to learn something. I understand though because clinical therapists have a rather bad reputation amongst the many online support groups that I’m a part of. One can only truly understand narcissists or psychopaths from first-hand experience. One can watch all the youtube videos and read all the books in the world but until you have first-hand experience with one, in your heart space… (sigh) It’s a losing battle of recovery and advocacy.

Every survivor is a PhD in navigating (and overcoming) gross dysfunction but not every PhD truly understands their topic of expertise. (I accept that I’m being unfairly judgemental but it’s based on my experience and also the opinions of others in support groups that seem to emphasize that support groups are for SURVIVORS, not PRACTITIONERS).

I digress.

In a sea of sharks… I was able to swim safely. I was able to observe people in a way that I haven’t been able to do for quite some time. The journey home was with someone that had been abandoned by his family. His father died at a young age and his mother and siblings made a decision and my new friend had to adjust to some pretty hard realities. I admire his strength and the kindness in his heart. Abandonment is a form of abuse. It’s probably one of the harshest forms of emotional abuse out there… and trying to explain the grieving process of people gaslighting me was not only a challenge, but also shed light on an area that I still need to work on with my own my personal healing.

Everything happens for a reason. I’m exactly where I need to be. Another layer revealed… The journey continues…

#WhyIWrite #MentalWellness #DomesticViolence #EmotionalAbuse #Recovery #Rewiring #CoreWork #Reflections #IAmWorthy #ProcessPain #Healing #Revealing #Anicha #Equanimity #Narcissism #Psychopaths #Enablers #Abuse #AbuseRecovery #WhiteLights #EnergyWorkers #SoulShip #DopeSoul #DecentHumanBeing #JourneyToPeace