From the time of that Pj party forward, my self image felt mightily confused. My mindset ‘saw’ a chubby girl inside me fighting to break loose while the pants I’d purchased at Dodie’s parents’ clothing boutique had whittled down, along with my waist and hips, from size 10 to size 6 (no ridiculous size, like 0, was to be seen back then. Seriously, who wears a size zero? A skinny girl’s shadow?)
You see, having felt too ashamed of my body to stand next to my slender club sisters and bare my chubbiness in a bathing suit at the beach, I’d spent the summer after my freshman year followed by both semesters of my sophomore year, dieting seriously, so as to enjoy a fun filled summer, sunning and splashing around with my friends when at sixteen, resultant of my self restraint concerning weight loss, a fun beach ball summer was certainly mine to enjoy, barring a very embarrassing mishap and a very scary experience, both with boys, both scenarios to be described at a later date ... and though most of that summer felt like fun and games—
A Major change was about to take place at our high school, which, proving beyond my classmates’ control, saw our class of 900 juniors feeling downright sad and mad once the school board made a highly unpopular decision, which caused the tide to turn against our girls’ social club remaining intact as September of 1961 came into view… and in addition to that change for the worse, my defense system was forced to endure secreted abuse at the hands of a predator )who’d won my trust at the inexperienced, highly vulnerable age of five) …
And thus, during high school, my role in life took such sudden twists and turns that, once again, my unidentified contradictory traits (of being a nurturing mother hen with my peers while simultaneously bowing in subservience to authority figures) offered my budding leadership skills sound reason to experience mental turmoil, based in inner conflict wrestling for dominance within my mind—no wonder why that gerbil ran this way and that inside my head, during most nights, when lack of inner peace denied my wearied sense of self any semblance of restful sleep, over most of my life … so now, you can easily see why I thank goodness for having been introduced to EMDR therapy, which guided me toward understanding the human brain’s innate capacity to arouse intuitive trains of thought that offer my conscious mind strings of inter-related insights, which serve to heighten my connection to the inner strength of courage, which proves necessary to make personal changes for the better that may not be popular with the status quo until the passage of time proves my brain capable of healing itself from experiencing episodes of PTSD once the traumatized, two sided portions of my thought processor regained such a whole/some outlook on life and love as to see me resolve inner conflict by considering my personal needs as well as contemplating the common good of one and all before I decided which fork in the road was best suited for the existentialist, whom I, now, naturally continue to choose to be ...
Tis important to note that each change for the better that takes place, currently, is based in my ability to make straight forward decisions, because I’ve worked toward identifying childhood’s latent conflict concerning my leadership traits vs my fear of being abandoned by any established group, whose membership feels differently about certain issues than is true of my deeply considered, personal opinions. And none of the above is ego talking. Just as with every post penned, today’s string of insights continues to highlight the voice of intuitive experience—speaking through me to me.
Still feeling Skeptical? Just ask anyone who knows me what he or she thinks of the on-going development of emotional maturity with which my well oiled, complex thinking machine encourages my family and friends to understand their need to take successful leaps of faith over life’s classic hurtles, based in my having chosen to muster the courage necessary to leap over various hurtles of my own and land on my feet (details described in stories yet to be penned) … but as I’ve digressed, it’s back to high school for us, because twas during my senior year that my future husband received my phone number from his friend, and my intuitive pen has not as yet revealed stories concerning my junior year, sooo—please stay tuned, because the best is yet to come … Annie
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