…On Becoming
By: T.R. Nouvel
Tags: Life, Creative Writing, Life Lessons, Women, Lessons Learned

Photo by Ava Sol on Unsplash

As I uncover the protective layers that have developed over the years, I realize my calloused heart has, yes, protected me, but an unintended consequence is that it has numbed me, muted me, and created a chasm between who I am and who I am meant to become. This canyon created a detachment and disconnect from myself that kept me alive, yet created a ripple effect through my life that carried me further and further away from who I AM.

My nature is to question the boundaries of thought and society with curiosity, creativity, and contemplation. However, I quickly learned there were rules. In life there is a hierarchy; I was to be seen and not heard. Compliant. Amiable. Pleasing. Questions swirled in my head. Creativity stalled in my heart. Contemplation was completed in isolation. My body and mind filled with thoughts, ideas, and questions with nowhere to go. My parents called me reflective. Friends and relatives called me respectful. Teachers called me responsible. My abusers called me love. They all found me productive, useful, and reliable. I didn’t understand any of it. My best and most memorable moments were in nature, with animals, or within the presence of beauty; beautiful people, places, and things I met in the make believe places in my head or in books. Questions, conversations, and comments caused conflict. So I began placing layers of protection over my heart and mind to ensure survival. I moved silently in strength of character through childhood. Becoming less and less of who I was. Searching for acceptance. Searching for love. Searching for a place to call home.

As I aged, I began breathing the fire of rebelliousness with alcohol, sex, and education. The quiet chameleon transformed into a dragon with increasing freedom. The fanciful dreams of childhood were long gone. All my imaginary friends left me. And nature no longer brought me freedom. Instead I found myself in friends, fun, and philosophy, and lost myself in dancing, drink, and dating. I began asking questions again as a contemplative and curious student, somewhat timidly and still too trusting of authority and men. I embarked on new ventures with friends that took me across the country and that allowed me to challenge the status quo in the name of human rights and justice. I found a piece of that young girl who had been muzzled for so long. This allowed me to remove layers of my callous as I found pieces of my younger self; however in my youthful ignorance and fervor, I created new wounds. I was still seeking affirmation and validation outside myself. Pleasing others; believing I was self-aware and healed.

In my 20’s I met a foreign man with kind eyes, an eclectic fashion sense, who opened doors for me, and who didn’t want to have sex with me immediately. I thought I had something. So I “fell” in love and didn’t let go. There were blatant signs, internal and external, that this wasn’t “love”. In my dysfunctional self-aware indignation, I ignored all of them because….it was destined to be and I jumped in head first.

We were living together, planning our wedding tour when I found out I was pregnant with our first child. I bawled for days when I found out. I never wanted children. I never wanted to get married. So how did I end up here? Ignoring myself….my needs, wants, and desires, had become commonplace. I had been programmed to please others. Pleasant self-sacrifice, centering others, and compromise for the “good” of the team, was how I had been trained. Anything less was mean, bitchy, weird, strange, and a good reason to be ostracized. Married life and motherhood were inevitable now. Things were locked in from now on. This was serious. Duty, responsibility, and obligation were things my mind understood. I was now responsible for another life.

My daughter was born that February; 4 years later I had a son, and 4 years after that I had another son. I worked full time and in between sons I went back to school for my Master’s degree. People-pleasing became more complicated and taxing on my personhood. I had a husband, 3 kids, 2 sets of in-laws, a highly critical mother, and extended family siblings. I didn’t recognize myself as a pleaser because all my life people had labeled me differently. I saw myself as fiercely independent, outspoken, and competent. I loved learning and sought opportunities to improve myself, my marriage, motherhood, and as an educator. I attended workshops and took on projects and extra duties. I remember one of my good friends often saying, “Aren’t you exhausted?” I looked at her incredulously (and probably somewhat in shock or an overworked trance) and said, “No, why would you say that? It’s just what ya do.”

In all honesty and upon reflection, I realized I hated my life. It never fit me. I never fit. I was working so hard to please everyone else I had completely lost myself. My creativity was poured into lesson planning and celebrating my students and children. My hopes, dreams, optimism, and love were poured into them and vicariously lived through encouraging them to pursue and be their own authentic self. I admired them. They were everything I wasn’t. And eventually, with a little outside push, they inspired me to take my pen back and begin to write my own story.

My first act in this new chapter was August of 2016. My husband returned from China and I shared with him, via a letter at dinner, that I wanted a divorce. He was flabbergasted and asked if we could “work on it.” As a pleaser, I wavered a little in trusting my heart. “What if I was wrong?” My mom and sister thought I should stay for the kids. His family pleaded with me to stay for them, “Don’t break up the family.” I was fortunate to have my dad, brother, and friends in my corner, because honestly, I almost lost my way. So after 5 months of couples’ therapy, luckily, he was the same selfish emotionally unavailable man I married. He threatened me and stormed out of our last therapy session and that was it. I had “tried” hard enough and he had crossed the boundary and threatened the people I loved the most, my children. All bets were off and I was done. Saying yes to myself, became a little easier after that.

What I soon realized after our split was that I had no idea how to have a healthy “normal” relationship with men. Returning to the woman I was in my 20’s at almost the age of 50 was not enticing and frankly would be “hazardous” to my health and to everyone in my circle. So I entered therapy to process my failed marriage and my relationship with my mother. I had many hurtful, helpful, and hopeful realizations and thought I was “healed” and ready to move on. However, after a year of processing my “mother” issues, followed by a series of seemingly random incidents, I recovered memories of childhood sexual abuse beginning at 4 and lasting through the age of 12. I was in shock, depressed, confused, and angry. Memories trickled back over the next year and half. How was this real? If it’d been hidden for this long, why can’t it stay hidden and I just move on? What’s the purpose of it coming into my awareness now? I withdrew and functioned on autopilot while processing and integrating this life shattering secret that had come to light.

Uncovering this piece of my life caused a catastrophic upheaval. I spent the next 12–18 months questioning reality. Questioning life. How had these known and unknown experiences shaped my identity, my decisions, life? I reflected and examined my perceptions, decisions, and actions. I mined memories, I studied, I searched high and low for a foothold. A small semblance of the life I had and knew. No matter how hard I tried, nothing made sense. These invisible hands had unknowingly altered my entire world. I finally gave up and surrendered to becoming.

Surrender required courage and sacrifice. I had to have the courage to examine myself and life in a way I never had before. I had to be honest and truthful in opening my heart and ripping off the layers that had built up over the years. I had to rid myself of self-destructive coping mechanisms and toxic people. I had to give up people-pleasing and seeking validation outside myself. I had to begin to reconnect with MY soul and things that brought me joy. I had to give up the shame, guilt, unworthiness, and self-loathing and connect to my soul, heal my heart, and become whole. I had to learn to be present with myself in a new way. This is when I found my power. When aligned with my authentic self, my highest self, my soul came alive. What I gained was myself. I found that I AM a powerful presence, who was created to bring to this life curious creativity, everlasting joy, courageous compassion, and unconditional love for myself and others. This is my odyssey. My experience of Becoming.