Last night, I was chatting with a bestie from childhood. As I recounted my misfortunes, she started to laugh. Not giggle. Not chuckle. A full-throated, belly-laugh with snorts and gasps for air included. "OMG," she exclaimed, "you're a Stanford grad!"
"That doesn't guarantee a problem-free life! What's your story?"
She proceeded to share all of her mess, and we both started laughing so hard, that yes, we were crying. Here I was contemplating driving for Uber, while she was thinking about packing it all up to move in with her sister 300 miles away from a city she'd called home for 30 years. What the hell had happened to us? We got serious... real serious, and started to peel back the layers.
She said, "I know it's all about the 0-8 years. I don't think I felt loved and cared for...of course, I know I was loved, but not in the way I needed to be...and because I didn't feel valued, I sought validation from external places...from other people...So I never lived my truth, and that's why I didn't come out until I was 50...yea, everyone suspected that I was gay, but I thought I needed to be straight...I thought I needed to be straight to be loved...and it almost killed me. I gave my sexuality all this power, and at the end of the day, NOBODY cared. Does that make sense, Stace?"
"Yes, perfect sense. I know I've given my power away many times...to my parents who needed me to be a good girl in the midst of their chaos...to my half-sister who needed me not to exist on the Stanford campus...to coworkers who bullied me into dimming my shine...to men who I loved more than they had earned. I know it all too well."
I think it helps to know that the power was never taken...it was freely relinquished, and can be freely reclaimed. We didn't cry about how we'd been victimized, we cried realizing how much power we possessed, and sought ways to help each other harness and reignite the fire within. Not in lofty, hypothetical ways, but in concrete ways with assignments and deadlines and scheduled check-ins.
That's real power...the comfort of a life-long friend who can laugh with you through the pain, and help navigate you back to the light.
Do you have a special friend with whom you can laugh through your pain? Share your story.
PURGE AND SURGE
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