Healing is unpacking.
By: Alex Vaughan
Tags: Abuse, LGBTQ, Healing, Love Yourself, Narcissism

Have you ever fallen off your bike? There was this one time when I was about 10 years old where I was flying down the street on my hot magenta banana seat bike and I wanted to pop a wheelie like the boys next door did on their dirt bikes so I got to top speed, pulled up on my handlebars as hard as I could except my wheelie didn’t pop. The handlebars come out of the head tube and the front wheel squiggles all over the place like a mad snake. I surrendered to my fate as time slugged behind the furious front wheel. I became witness to the fall. The houses whizzed by and the wind whirled past my ears. In slow motion horror and I waited — -until the bike crashed and I went down with it. It was the only way out. I slid down the street on my torso, knees and chin exposing massive patches of raw pink and white skin. Blood flushed to the surface and the wounds throbbed with every heartbeat. The summer air seared the abrasions like a cold steak.

The body is an extraordinary machine and it will heal itself if you get out of its way. Does healing just come down to the simple acknowledgement that there’s a need for…something? Healing for me has been acknowledging who I am — as a queer person and as an abuse survivor.

I didn’t know I had been in a narcissistic and emotionally abusive marriage until after I left my ex-husband. I work to unearth extraordinary truths about myself, love, authenticity, connection, friendships and what it means to be brave. Everyday is a commitment to relearning certain things that some people take for granted. Giving myself permission to be messy and make mistakes and vowing to learn from them has changed everything. Despite any struggle, it does not define me. How I carry my story matters. How I tell it does too. I speak up to remove obstacles for others. If I can prevent one person from going through what I did, it is worth it. Parents need to have conversations with their kids about different types of abuse because what people experience is real. No one deserves to be dehumanized and devalued. Parents need to show their kids all different kinds of people so when their kids leave their front door, they see all the colors, all the beauty in the world. We tell our kids to “be nice” but do we model what that really looks like for all people, no matter the situation? I have a responsibility because my kids are watching, listening and because my wife and I value kind and direct voices. We teach them to be kind to themselves and others. Just because we don’t like what is happening gives no one an excuse for cruelty and abuse.

When you heal, certain key things have to change. Not everyone understands the difference between feeling hurt and causing harm. They often confuse the two and people always tell on themselves. I know because I’ve been on both sides.

Friends: In the very beginning, my circle of friends tightened up. I didn’t have the energy nor space for much. Healing can be all consuming. Over time, the circle of friends continued to evolve because though I was celebrating and felt tremendous joy, the space also felt fragile. People you think are friends will have no idea how to show up for you. And you might not know how to show up for them as you bumblefuck down this road. Losing them will hurt a lot but compromising who you are and what you stand for hurts more. Understand that not everyone is ready to witness someone else’s pain and knows where to put it. Not everyone will have the ability to sit with you and that’s okay. They are going through their own journey. Your journey will trigger others in ways they might not understand right away just as you have been triggered to evolve.

I had a long time friend, a mental health professional and a school psychologist, whom I thought of all people would understand what I was going through, sit and cry when I told her I was getting divorced and that my oldest kid was transgender. She was so distraught at the fact that my marriage to an emotionally abusive person was ending that she could not comprehend what I was telling her about my experience. I circled back later and she defended her position by centering her own discomfort using facts and data and psych school book jargon which infuriated me. But it also created an opportunity for me to see how regardless of a person’s education, experience can hold more. She showed up disconnected from an emotional world in which she was unfamiliar. When she asked if my child had been sexually abused; a common transphobic narrative people use to make sense of why someone is transgender, I knew I had to just let go. Another friend confessed she was uncomfortable about having our daughters have a sleep over and just didn’t know why. I asked her if she felt the same about her daughter’s cisgender friends. She ignored my message and pretended everything was fine. Friends will come and go. Space is necessary and try your best to not judge it. You will know who want to dig in with you, who is doing their own inner work and has the ability to communicate, listen and learn with you as you both grow.

Family: According to Psychology Today, we know that narcissism is a pattern of learned behaviors. It is difficult to diagnose because narcissists are masters of manipulation. Narcissists are created by their caregivers. They are emotionally neglected, abused children in adult-size bodies that have gone unchecked. They can snowball any untrained therapist into believing their bullshit. If any family member has not done their own healing, they too are part of the problem. Don’t expect the family of the narcissist to show up for you. If they defend them, they are still caught in the generational trauma. When you hear about people cutting off the narcissist, also consider what is best for your mental health if keeping in contact with the family is worth it.

The Covert: Covert narcissists are the extra sneaky fucks. It’s crass but true. I am gay. I am a queer person. I am nonbinary and transgender. I transitioned when I was 40. I would not be where I am without the love and support of my wife and therapist. Transitioning was brutal for everyone in certain ways and they held me up when I couldn’t hold myself up. It took me a long time to admit who I am and what I’ve been through because I was so scared of hurting someone’s feelings. I learned this is a symptom of the codependency I experienced. Being able to say I did not want a life with my ex-husband was difficult and not because I loved him but because I was scared. In the years leading up and following our decision to divorce, as I was called to do the work to uncover more of my true self, I also discovered this. His intense insecurity boiled over as I stood in silence in the kitchen night after night, explaining myself. He hurled insult after insult, “Why won’t you fight me?” then pretended everything was fine. The more work I did, the stronger I got, the worse he behaved. His attempts to get me to compromise my newfound boundaries were failing and he was spinning.

There was a moment when it hit me like a ton of bricks and I decided, no matter what happened, it was better to get myself and the kids out of the house than to stay there with a breathing, seething dark hole. It was not the exit I’d ever imagined but I was fighting the wrong fight. I was fighting for validation and I was done. I had married an angry, emotion-draining vampire. After 12 years of marriage, it had been months since we decided to divorce but we were still cohabitating “for the kids”. We had gone to dinner the Monday after my birthday weekend and he asked for sex. My stomach dropped and I put my fork down. I stared at him chewing and it disgusted me. When I said “that’s not going to happen”, his jaw tightened and he said, “well that sucks.” All the pathetic ways he knew how to communicate and connect with another human fully revealed. To him, I was and always had been just a body and someone to take up space. He was never truly interested in treating me with human decency. I had dismissed and ignored so much for so long but it was clear. Divorcing a covert narcissist is nothing like two normal people realizing they are leading different lives and just need to move on. Divorcing a covert narcissist is so emotionally draining because they communicate through conflict. They will drag you back to court as many times as they can. They will push you, the emotionally stable person, to the point where you might blow and they’re there with their phone recording the whole thing so they can say with filthy calm, “See how crazy they are!” This is called reactive abuse and another reason why healing yourself is so important. It takes inner strength to hold boundaries and respond whether it be no response or a simple yes or no. If you ask for reasonable support with the kids, they stonewall if it inconveniences them. Any emotional reaction holds energy which they need to survive because they lack the willingness to create their own sense of self. They will do anything and everything they can to deflect, and take zero responsibility for anything they do or say. It takes a lot of courage to take feedback, to look at yourself in the mirror. Since a covert narcissist has an intensely fragile ego, you are just not dealing with a rational person.

Divorcing my ex-husband deepened my ability to hold empathy for someone like him. As disturbing as his behavior is, I found myself pitying him as I saw a person deeply struggling to communicate. I possess strength, values, beliefs and characteristics that allow me to show up in the world to make it a better place. I am so grateful. I am awkward and messy but I do know I am brave. In the words of my therapist who would tell me pretty much every session, “Alex, be kind to yourself…” I know more and more what that means now. Empathy is a practice. Like a muscle, it needs to be exercised daily. Every moment is another opportunity to move from reaction to response.

The last 3 years living with my ex-husband felt like one giant slow motion bike crash. He was the bike with no handlebars led by the mad snake front wheel. We were meant to fall; one goes one way and the other goes another. I harbored resilience to give way to this massive undoing and allow myself to be wounded knowing I would heal. The bike? It flipped and thrashed and continues to slide down the street in some trajectory none of us knows which way it will go. Don’t ever chase after the bike. It’s too dangerous.

The feedback: The feedback from healing feels relentless and unforgiving. The concept of constant rip and renewal and repair is exhausting. Accept that pain and grief is like learning a new skill; the more you sit with it, the better you get at holding it. Spend time by yourself and with people who see you. The process is abstract.

Healing involves a complete surrender and who surrounds you matters. My surrender requires unpacking as much baggage as I can muster, laying it out on the floor day after day while saying, “I am responsible for all of this.” It’s the knowingness to be prepared for when, not if, when a shoe gets thrown in one direction or another. Piles and piles of junk, wrinkly shirts, dirty shoes that don’t fit, ragged edge pants and broken belts are strewn everywhere, a life nagging for mending. And just when it feels like those piles are in some orderly fashion and space is made, more falls out of another suitcase from somewhere else. Remember…the feedback is relentless. Wanting to heal is completely different than actually doing it. The work is brutal and it won’t stop because it is just not the way it works. You have to choose to throw yourself into every fucking pile because otherwise it was a certain suffocation I was not willing to endure any longer. The shadow side to healing for me has been the grief. Grief feels like a hub, layered with complexities of emotions that smear across your heart back and forth repeatedly. Grief is Grand Central Station and it knows where you live. Grief is joy, it’s relief, it’s sadness, it’s anger, it’s resentment, it’s happiness, it’s peaceful and it’s hurt. It’s all of it.

I got angry but I knew that meant something. I did not want to believe this person I married to be who he is. It’s easy to stay angry by telling yourself someone needs to take responsibility for their behavior, words and actions who refuses to do it. I thought I needed an apology and the more I stared into myself, I came to the painful understanding I am okay without one. Apologies don’t come from men like him. Apologies and awareness are for the strong. Apologies and awareness are for the willing to risk feeling something else besides the empty void. All you need to heal from this is the knowingness and the belief in yourself and the people in your life who truly love you. Be willing to risk it. Your healing is worth it.

When I started to allow myself to unravel to create anew, to lead with love, honesty and authenticity, I found my head to be down for long periods of time. You too will need people to lean on, not just in. I need the people in my life whom I trust, love and respect to poke me. We all have blind spots. Trust those supporting you that they will force you lovingly to pause and reflect in the moments when you are sorting frantically. Don’t forget to look up and around you. Healing does not happen overnight. I had moments when I would forget to look around beyond myself. I would forget to ask if anyone else needed help sorting their piles. It won’t always be like this though. Sorting your piles becomes easier to manage eventually. You will come out through the darkest tunnels into the brightest spaces of your life. Trust the process. Lean on. Look up and you will be okay.