I'm no athlete. I'm uncoordinated, my reflexes are slow. And team sports, I'm certainly no champion player.

Regardless, I signed up to participate in a Sports League.  A friend encouraged me to sign up, as did my counsellor - it offers opportunities to meet new people and a chance to step outside of my comfort zone.

Each week, before the game, I am filled with dread and anxiety. Between my lack of confidence in my athletic skills and all the doubts of my old self trying to clamor and push their way back in, I struggle with the urge to stay home and hide.

Tonight was no exception. I was tested on so many fronts - physically, mentally, emotionally and socially.  As I laced up my shoes and faced the other team, I felt the anxiety within me crescendo, building momentum, drumming and pulsing louder and stronger.  I thought I was going to be sick. I felt like I was going to have a manic episode right on the volleyball court. I could feel my body begin to quiver, my hands ready to wring in the air, my heart beating, my breathing going erratic. My flight responses were cued and ready.

And then...I took a little moment. As my counsellor would say, "Slow down."

I acknowledged the anxiety.

I used my frenetic feelings and energies to my advantage by channeling it within me as needed - to my feet, my arms, my vision, my voice, my lungs. I became more focused and ironically, I also became aware of a different feeling - the sense of inhibition and freedom.  That simply acknowledgement enabled me to trigger a fight response, and for the critical mind to sit out this round on the bench and letting the body and instincts to take the lead to accomplish what needed to be accomplished.  This awareness to me symbolizes my transition from survivor mode to thriver mode. And this makes me all kinds of happy. I found myself fearlessly flying after the volleyball, I found my voice to call the ball or to ask for help and my body memory quickly came back with my old serving routine - bounce the ball three times, spin the ball in my palm three times, and then recalling my father's voice not to let my eyes leave the ball as my fist made contact for the serve.

As the cliche goes, it's easier said than done. A year ago, I would have been discouraged and frustrated with not comprehending how to process my feelings, how to overcome my anxieties, or how to move forward. With time and space, acceptance  is like a Zamboni - it clarifies and cleans the surface, making it safer and level for the self to come out and play. And once that happens, there is a greater purpose for one to jump onto the court and kick, catch, and throw your way through the process. It forces the body, mind and heart to work together as a team, to let go of what they can't control, and to trust and be in awe of the unknown.

I'm grateful I've chosen to fight my way though my anxieties because through each experience, I've gained so much more in fighting than if I had chosen to flee.

My fingers are poised over the keyboard.  My eyes closed and I'm simply listening...waiting...being...

I'm waiting for that source of inspiration to hit....but all I hear are the lyrics to John Legend's song "All of me", mixed with a bit of Hoobastank's "The Reason", my original anthem song.

My sessions with my counsellor are nearing an end...the ending of a chapter.  As in any journey, one always gets a sense when it's time to move on...that it's time to leap and move forward on your own.  In my sessions, I sensed greater positive energy, strength, courage and hope within myself so I knew...I know it's time to step out and venture on my own.

I'm feeling apprehensive and anxious. But there's that nagging feeling within me...an edge.  The whimsical me who has been hiding behind the full skirts is now tugging at the skirt, trying to get my attention and she's got her hand already on the doorknob, ready to sprint from the brick house and into the world beyond...to explore, to discover, to chase, to simply be.  But I can also see now that this girl I'm looking at isn't merely the innocent girl full of whimsy that I've been protecting and hiding - no, she's a woman with a sense of curiosity, wonder, and adventure. She's aware of the risks and obstacles she may face, but she's is bright and resourceful enough to figure things out as the situation arises. She doesn't need a cage or an armor to protect her. She is her own champion who has learned to voice and express what she wants.

Regardless...I know that I'll be here a little longer yet on this blog...this chapter may be ending, but the start of my next journey is only beginning...

It's been a fairly dreary, wet and cold summer, but now that we've reached the last week of August, Summer has finally perked up and the hot humid days and nights have returned, drinking in every last minute of what time remains of Summer.

I don't blame Summer - I'm doing the same thing.  I've been reflecting on all the adventures I've enjoyed these past few months against what I had hoped to do, what I've learned from the experiences, and what more can I do with what is left of Summer.

At the start of the summer, I created my Summer of Bliss list as a way to reconnect with my whimsical self and to embrace the present:

1. Jump off a Bridge (incomplete - a few weeks after I completed my list, the local police posted a warning - $200 fine for anyone caught jumping off the bridge into the river - need to find a new bridge).
2. SkyZone (incomplete - but activity scheduled for this week - I'm going to jump on the trampolines until I am breathless).
3. Water Park (incomplete - but I plan to attend before the park closes for the season).
4. Speeddating (completed - I committed myself to get out of my box and challenged myself to meet new people. Matches lined up and moving along my personal journey to engage my authentic self).
5. Camping (completed - it was for one night, but it was nice to be surrounded by nature, kayaking on the lake, swimming at the locks and simply slowing down).
6. Read 10 books (incomplete - I've read one book so far)
7. Attend local festivals (completed - attended the Garlic Festival, Cheese Curd Festival and the Opening of a new Park).

If I were given the chance to repeat these past 8 weeks, I wouldn't change much...it has been the most rewarding summer for me in a long time...the kind of summer I used to dream of. I loved the time I spent with myself, re-connecting to both my essensual and whimsical selves and I have author Sarah Ban Breathnach's to thank.  Her book Romancing the Ordinary: A Year of Simple Splendors has been my main source of inspiration for my Summer of Bliss.

As for not completing all that I had planned, Sarah writes:

"Plenty of time left for a summer fling."

And so that is what I plan to do - to continue and complete as much as I can before the leaves change and fall beckons me to spend time with her.

For me to make a commitment to myself, I need to take a good, hard look not only at what I value about me, but whether I value me as a person...although I value myself generally and think of myself as someone with a positive sense of self, when it comes to romantic relationships all bets are off...when it comes to work of friends, I value me for me. When it comes to romantic relationships, my self-worth flies out the window.
As a person, I channel my positive energy towards my work, friends and family.

So why can't I commit to myself? Do I think I'm more trouble than I'm worth?  I fully admit that I am my own worst enemy. I have a habit of criticizing instead of praising myself; seeing the mistakes instead of the successes. 

We were raised to believe that we should give to everyone else -- take care of everyone else -- before we take care of ourselves...at the end of the day, we have nothing left to give...but if you can't commit to give to you, to take care of you, then pretty soon you have nothing left but a broken shell of who you used to be.

Up until recently, I went for the alternative to making a commitment to myself. I made commitments to everyone else...but to commit to me? No, thank you. if you commit to yourself and rely on yourself, when who are you going to blame when things go wrong...of course, I blamed myself anyway - for my own problems and everyone else's as well. 

• Making my home a home - after 6 years of living in my condo, I believe it's time I acknowledge that I am living here and not planning on moving anytime soon.  And if I do, who cares! I want to claim this space as my own - and as I browse and research different styles and designs, I'm learning to listen and trust my gut what I want and how I want to transform this space, as well as discovering my own tastes and personality.  I've started by declutttering, buying a few furniture pieces but more importantly, I've put a nail in my wall to hang a picture - this to me has always been a representation and test of what commitment means to me.
• Shedding the pounds - I'm nearing the big 4-0, and so I've made a commitment to lose 40 lbs before my milestone birthday. I've reached 25% of my goal so far and it's been an amazing feeling to have that goal and also having the dogged determination to want it as well. I've faltered and fallen off the wagon, but I'm not going to let myself stand there as the wagon drives off into the far off distance. I'm totally capable of catching up to that wagon and jumping back on. 
• Connecting with my self - This is a category that I've grouped a number of hobbies and interests but with the main thread of connecting to my self and continuing to peel back the dead layers so that there is more room to breathe and grow - yoga as a way to connect me to my body and surrounding energies, reading to connect with my mind, writing/painting/music to connect with my creativity, wearing dresses to connect with myself as a woman, to go out at least once a week and do something without my dog so that I'm meeting new people, and so on. I'm doing this to honour a friend who has struggled but lives with such grace and had I been in her place, I don't know if I could have coped. And so for her, I use these daily practices to understand and perfect the art of imperfection, to be comfortable with my vulnerability, and to continue healing.   

• I've joined weight watchers. I've worked on creating a healthier approach to food and understanding that I am accountable with every food choice I make. The weight has started coming off and I am proud of it, even giddy when friends and colleagues mention it. It's certainly helped to get a better grip on my emotional eating.
• By understanding my relationship with Guilt and Shame, I've learned not to let my secrets hold me prisoner. I'm learning to see that my own desires, wants and needs are valid, and that I am equally accountable to nurturing them so that I can enjoy life's pleasures free of guilt and shame. 
• I've been traveling down memory lane these past few months, trying to reconnect with my lost self from a time long ago - trying to reconnect with her whimsical passions for reading, writing, the outdoors, debating, and reconnecting with my friends close, afar and from my childhood. By remembering my lost self, I'm remember what centers me and the destiny that I once longed for and realizing that there is no better time than the now to take those steps and go after that dream.

But from time to time, I am plagued with doubts and I fall back a few steps. There's a trigger and I experience a flashback. An acute attack of anxiety has me spinning and I feel out of control.  I fall back into old patterns of self-sabotage - eating until I am numb, wanting that pack of cigarettes, wanting oblivion, not wanting to do anything but sleep and never wake up.

This method doesn't always work. It's my mind's way of grasping control in anyway it can.

Being vulnerable is part of the process and acknowledging the root cause of the agitation and anxieties is a far better approach and method to moving forward. Intellectually, I understand this concept and that freedom can be achieved by surrendering to vulnerability, but it's still something that I struggle with internally and to put into daily practice. And as a rape victim, I struggle with that on a whole other level.

So for now, this is my perspective - by surrendering to one self, it dissipates the conflict and the feelings of agitation retreats until one is left wondering, what caused it in the first place?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~
now...Now...NOW!
my mind tells me.
fly...Fly...FLY!
my instincts prompt me.
eat...Eat...EAT!
my body urges me.

...surrender, whispers the heart.

(Note: I've started reading poetry again and I thought I would use this medium to express myself.)

He had a fantasy.

He described in detail what he wanted...what he would do.
I told him no.

He kept pushing his fantasy.
And I pushed back - No!

He wanted his own key so that he could come and go as he pleased.
I said no.

He had come up to my door hoping that I had left it unlocked.
The red flags came up, but I ignored them.
I was in denial of the danger I was in.
I believed I could control the situation.

He would advance. I would parry. He would pry and ply me, I would dodge and counter.  But then what started off as something consensual one night quickly escalated into him fulfilling his fantasy.

I was pinned - literally - unable to make him stop.
And wondering where did it go wrong? How did I end up here?
I was left torn, broken, defeated, humiliated and shaken.

I was angry. This was never my fantasy.
He apologised - nothing short of passive-aggressive manipulation.
This cat and mouse game was over.
I severed all my connections with him.

But for the next few days, I would sleep in the spare room.
For the next few days, I would lie to my colleagues each time I winced in pain.
For the next few months, I would silently endure moments of anxiety and panic.
For the next few months, I would slowly withdraw into myself.

It's been 23 months since he last walked through my door.
I wish I could say my healing journey is nearly over...
I wish I could say that memories of that night no longer affect me...
I wish for a lot of things...

But it can't be undone...
For now, I struggle with the rising tide of emotions as I relive that night. It gnaws at my gut.
And I struggle equally to stay in the present and to keep moving forward.

Spring,

It's been a long winter and I haven't looked forward to your arrival with this much anticipation in years. Winter looked as if it would stay, and yet, you've arrived with such grace and charm that your fashionably late entrance is all but forgiven and forgotten. Ah yes, the change is nothing short of refreshing.

Needless to say, during old man winter's visit, I took a little hiatus from this blog. The endless cold didn't help my mood or disposition. There were many things I wanted to explore, but I couldn't bring myself to the task of writing. And so I avoided it, leaving myself to muddle in the hole in my sidewalk. And yet, my time in the hole wasn't without progress. Something shifted while I stewed in my little rut. Nothing seismic, but significant just the same.  I now feel a sense of purpose. I feel lighter. I feel as if I've let something go...and that makes me immensely happy.

With the arrival of a new season, I'm welcoming a new challenge. For the past three weeks, I've been committed to spring cleaning, both literally and figuratively speaking. Carpet cleaning, laundering duvets, washing baseboards by hand, dusting each book on the bookshelf, decluttering, washing windows...it has been an exhilarating feeling. But spring has also inspired me to clean house within - to declutter the mess around my authentic self, to tackle my nemeses shame and guilt, and usher in the hope that this path will lead me to self-forgiveness.

Self-forgiveness has always seemed something unattainable - it is a word I have often used, heard others speak of, but never really understood. Friends and colleagues who knew of my journey have often asked me, "Do you love yourself?  Do you feel you are worthy of love?" and I would respond without hesitation, "No". Sure, I was and am grateful for the life I have and all the people connected to it, but I struggled to know how to feel love for my self - as a person and as a woman. The talk shows and their message of "You have to forgive and love yourself" weren't effective - they were words, but not an answer. Dating and finding a long-term relationship were equally hallow attempts to move forward, but I would end up feeling humiliated when men would say, "You have to loosen up," or "I want someone who can open up and be honest."

Even more heartbreaking was when I hurt someone I cared about and he blasted, "Why can't you love me?"

Because...I don't know why.  In part, because of fear and I don't trust myself.

But that isn't really an answer either. I know I am capable of love.  But how could I fully open up, commit, and give what I didn't understand? How does one self-forgive? I struggled to find inner peace in the pursuit of happiness. My Type A personality (Miss Fix-It) would silently scream at this faceless obstacle, which was often guarded by the imposing Shame and Guilt. But even if I did, I had no key, no element, no talisman to break through the obstacle.

I don't know what prompted me to buy the book Radical Self-Forgiveness by Colin Tipping, but this has been one of my self-help books that has sat on my coffee table collecting dust for years. Back then and up to a few months ago, I believed I would "get to it, one day." Well, I finally "got to it," and I have found the resource that provides me the perspectives and exercises to help me maneouver through this maze of self-forgiveness. To start, Tipping offers this perspective in what is required in forgiveness:

The term forgiveness implies that there has to be one who forgives as well as the one being forgiven. It requires a subject (the forgiver) and an object (the forgiven)...When we are forgiving others, that condition is met...but not so with self-forgiveness. [With self-forgiveness] The one who forgives (subject) and the one being forgiven (object) are one and the same...in acting as both the forgiver and the forgiven, we are trying to be prosecutor, judge, jury, witness and defendant all in the same case!

Ah yes, our inner court system with all the personalities that run the inner working of our mind, heart and spirit. Tipping identifies three members of our internal committee:

1. The resident judge: has the loudest voice, always says you are wrong, why you feel the weight of guilt
2. The critical parent: always scolding, withholding love as punishment, shames you, self-esteem suppressor
3. The inner lover: lives in your heart, loves you, tolerant, forgiving, compassionate, mediator

In learning about the interactions of these three sub-personalities, the words about the critical parent spoke to me the most and I realized, it was the secret that I have kept from myself for a long time:

Secret Reveal #7: I don't love myself because I withhold love as a punishment.

It's such a simple thought and perspective and yet, it held the power to shoot me out of my hole in the sidewalk like a cannonball. And I've landed on my feet. I admit, throughout much of life, I have done things to seek validation and approval from others, but I've never been able to do that for my self. This awareness has provided me unravel my past beliefs and begin remapping things with this new perspective. It's like playing a video game and I've gained a "power-up" for my healing journey. Self-forgiveness and loving my self no longer seem so daunting a challenge, but something possible and attainable.

And like the arrival of spring, the arrival of this new Self is refreshing.