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Donna Mae DePola - Guest Speaker Chat ...May 25th 2013 ... for more information please read this!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
There is still plenty of time and spaces if you'd like to sign up for the Guest Speaker Chat scheduled for this Saturday!
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A friend of mine told me I looked pretty today. A close friend, a woman, someone I trust an care for, who knows my stuff and has been there for me. She told me this in a completely safe and normal way.
My outward response is to say thanks and change the subject, but inside, I want to curl up into a ball and die. I feel scared, I feel dirty, I feel disgusting, I feel ashamed, I feel lied to and manipulated. I feel terrified and vulnerable. It feels like a pretty extreme place to go, but it is my experience.
I know why the feeling is there. I know where it comes from. I know why. But knowing does not make the feeling go away, knowing does not make it easier.
What I need to do is somehow separate, somehow separate the past from the present, help myself to realize that in these moments I am responding to the past, not the present.
I struggle, so much, with being able to see that I can be seen, that it is okay to be seen, heard, even seen as...a woman, as a sexual person. Even writing those words make me cringe, make me want to disappear. Because part of me believes I cannot feel this, that feeling it is wrong and bad. That is somehow means I wanted what happened to me to happen to me, that it was my fault.
I know this is not true. Logically I get it. But emotionally...not so much.
I am realizing a shift now, now I want to be the kind of person who could enjoy a haircut. Rather then being the person who gets her haircut once a year, if, and practically has a panic attack during it. I would like to be able to let them wash/blow dry my hair. I would like to be the type of person who could imagine a manicure being soothing. I would like to be able to imagine, being pampered.
Before I looked at these with disdain. Saw these as negative, anti-feminist. I still feel this way, but with a longing. That my choice was really a choice.
It feels like one more thing that was taken away from me. I am tired of feeling all of the things that were taken from me, and not being able to fully enjoy what I do have.
My outward response is to say thanks and change the subject, but inside, I want to curl up into a ball and die. I feel scared, I feel dirty, I feel disgusting, I feel ashamed, I feel lied to and manipulated. I feel terrified and vulnerable. It feels like a pretty extreme place to go, but it is my experience.
I know why the feeling is there. I know where it comes from. I know why. But knowing does not make the feeling go away, knowing does not make it easier.
What I need to do is somehow separate, somehow separate the past from the present, help myself to realize that in these moments I am responding to the past, not the present.
I struggle, so much, with being able to see that I can be seen, that it is okay to be seen, heard, even seen as...a woman, as a sexual person. Even writing those words make me cringe, make me want to disappear. Because part of me believes I cannot feel this, that feeling it is wrong and bad. That is somehow means I wanted what happened to me to happen to me, that it was my fault.
I know this is not true. Logically I get it. But emotionally...not so much.
I am realizing a shift now, now I want to be the kind of person who could enjoy a haircut. Rather then being the person who gets her haircut once a year, if, and practically has a panic attack during it. I would like to be able to let them wash/blow dry my hair. I would like to be the type of person who could imagine a manicure being soothing. I would like to be able to imagine, being pampered.
Before I looked at these with disdain. Saw these as negative, anti-feminist. I still feel this way, but with a longing. That my choice was really a choice.
It feels like one more thing that was taken away from me. I am tired of feeling all of the things that were taken from me, and not being able to fully enjoy what I do have.
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I'm typing this with ragged fingernails, looking down at feet that would make a podiatrist blush, so please don't take this as some form of, "Oh-honey-you-should-get-a-mani-pedi-you-would-look-so-pretty-blah-blah-blah...." Think of it more of a thought experiment. I don't place a lot of inherent value (positive or negative) on a manicure or a wash and blow dry at the salon, it's just that it seems kind of... anti feminist in a way to look at it as anti feminist, just because it is an experience that is more accesible to a woman than a man.
Rambling and random thought experiments aside, I'm sorry this is so tough for you. I have my own "things" that will send me into a similar kind of irrational panic, and I know it's not fun at all.