Brave Enough To Be Bliss

my dad on a vacation to Table Rock the summer after the divorce. It was a fun trip, but for some reason, I was upset at some point and frantically started cleaning the condo we had rented. Later that evening, my friend gently asked if I was aware I started cleaning anytime I was upset. Of course, I wasn’t. If I could think of all the times, he asked me if I was upset, if I was OK, if something was bothering me, and how many times I said, “No, I’m fine,” it could fill another book.

“If she just randomly starts cleaning everything, just let her. Once she’s done, give her a hug. It’s not because the place is a mess…it’s because her mind is.” @dearmamadiary

I was so grateful she asked that question, though, because after that I was able to ask myself when I grabbed the antibacterial Windex ® and paper towels if something really needed to be cleaned or if I was actually upset about something. I wouldn’t be able to ask myself really hard questions quite yet, but it cracked the window on self-reflection and the impact of my behavior on others. I vividly remember sitting in a Mexican restaurant having a late lunch with a colleague who had become a friend, when he asked me, seemingly out of the blue, if I had ever been sexually abused or assaulted. I was taken by surprise and remember thinking, as I always did before speaking, and then hesitantly saying, “I don’t think so. Why do you ask?” He said he was just curious and wen t on to tell me about a couple situations when adult men had tried to molest him when he was a child. I was surprised he had the courage to share that with me, but even more I greatly admired him for doing so. I remember as I drove away from the restaurant thinking about that question and how brave he had been to share with me. While I wouldn’t remember anything for a number of years, I do believe that one question and the fact he owned his story instead of hiding it created a tiny crack in the walls my brain had built to protect me from the memory of having been raped. A couple years later, the relationship with my husband had become more strained, but if he instigated sex, I would generally comply. However, at some point after that question had been asked after we would have sex, I began feeling like I had been raped. It didn’t make any sense , because how would I even know what it felt like to be raped? A nd he wasn’t raping me if I was a willing participant. It was a disconcerting feeling, and I was very confused, but after feeling that way several times, I began to reject his advances without explaining how I was feeling. I hadn’t ever talked about sensitive issues at all, so I certainly wouldn’t have been able to share this strange feeling I was having. As awful as it sounds, it never occurred to me how badly the rejection could have felt t o him. I don’t recall the timing of everything, but eventually I even told him he was welcome to go elsewhere for sex because I just couldn’t do it, but again, I didn’t explain what was behind it . It pains me to think of how that could have hurt him now th at I’m aware of all the things I wasn’t back then. It is very difficult to share this part of my story because looking back, it seems so clear my behavior would have felt very hurtful to him. Back then, however, there were other things going on, including the resentment from keeping the peace that easily could have made me feel justified in not wanting to have sex. Even though it feels awful now, I think these are vitally important examples for everyone to understand how much our behavior can be influenced by things we aren’t discussing because we don’t eve n understand them ourselves. It takes a great deal of trust to share deeply intimate thoughts and feelings with someone else when we aren’t even fully aware of what is going on within our own minds and bodies. Additionally, it is an excellent way to show that many of us internalize another person’s behavior as a reflection of us when oftentimes that isn’t at all the case. If my husband would have known my behavior was only a reflection of what was going on within me, he wouldn’t have had to feel any rejecti on and perhaps could have asked probing questions that would have led me to uncover more about what was really going on. We didn’t have that level of deep trust for that to happen, but that is the ideal: for partners to be able to openly share the most intimate details of their hearts and minds. There would have been many issues for us to resolve outside of this issue, but in my opinion, this might have been the nail that sealed the coffin on our marriage. “Owning your own story is the bravest thing you will ever do.” Brené Brown

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