A Love Letter to My Dancer

I remember you walking around talking and talking and talking.  Always on the move and always wanting to socialize.  A little bit difficult sometimes for this introvert parent.  But, you gave me a light in my heart that was not there before.  I remember your first dance performance in 4th grade.  You were nervous, and even nauseous before the performance.  I secretly wondered if this really wasn't the 'thing' for you if it made you so ill.  Afterwards, I remember driving home and you were exhilarated.  You loved performing.  You were hooked. 

As time goes on, dance takes more and more of your hours.  I feel like I have 'lost' you sometimes.  My endless talker is gone.  Filling up the few hours at home with homework or sleep.  I feel like a hotel with really good service.  I miss you, my light.

When you started driving, you were gone more and more.  Socializing with your peers and dancing. I know it's all typical for a teenager, but that doesn't make it any easier. 

I wonder if other parents grieve this loss like I do?  The loss of that child who accepted who you were and loved you with all your flaws.  Who would hang out with you and make you laugh and think and grow.  That child turns into a teenager, who would much rather hang out with friends.  That child turns into someone hidden, who does not talk about everything that comes into her head.  That child slowly turns into an adult, naturally separating from her parents. 

It's all part of growing.  That separation.  And watching that growth is beautiful.  I have seen you turn into a leader who is thoughtful and compassionate.  I have seen you embrace art and dance and throw your heart and soul into both of them with passion and creativity.   I have seen you love your friends through hardship.  And, when you do talk to me, I see that you are a deep thinker who truly tries to understand things in a holistic way.  I see your big heart grieve for people going through hardship and reach out to help.  I couldn't ask for more. 

The time does go by in an instant.  And yet, it seems like such a long time ago that you were born after a long night of labor.  When we bonded together alone in that hospital room.  When me, you and Lucy would go on various adventures.  When I would watch your endless trek back and forth across the monkey bars.  When we would play at the lake together.  When we would dance together in the living room before my feet became too screwed up to do that.  When we played games and laughed together as a family.  Some of those things still happen, but it is rarer and rarer.

As you grow and soon leave home, I have to learn who I am apart from being your parent.  I will always be your parent, but the relationship changes.  I have to accept that you are not my little girl anymore.  I have to find my own self apart from you two, my girls.  It's grueling.  This other grief that is not often talked about.  Is it obvious that I have a hard time letting go of almost everything?

You push me to write.  You push me to live, to grow and love.  You push me to think. I hope that I can always be your safe harbor, your resting place, your venting place when the world gets hard.  I hope you can always celebrate your life with me and that we can grow together through this crazy life.  And when I watch you on that stage, I watch in awe.  I created this beautiful person.  This person who can make beautiful art through dance.  This person who can channel her emotions into beautiful pieces of art in all mediums. This person who can lead and love and laugh. Instead, of grieving what I have lost, I will learn to celebrate who you are right now, a young adult passionately launching her way into life.  As I continue to find my own light, your light will always help guide my way. Wherever you are, my heart and my love will always be with you. 

Our Trauma Lives

As you leave jail today, you leave the place that kept us safe from your harassment for a blessed 6 months of not worrying about what lies around the corner or on the other end of a phone.

The legacy of trauma that you left our little family lives.

It lives in the sleepless nights of one you traumatized.  It lives in the ways that I learned to numb myself.  It lives in dreams deferred. It lives in our anxieties, in our sadness, anger and depression.   It lives in the ways that we have all learned to protect ourselves in our own unique ways.  Sometimes we learn healthy ways and other times, we don't.  We shut down, we get ill, we get tense, we get angry.

And it's a funny thing about trauma, I think that I have moved on and found peace.  Then, something hits me and my rage and resentment comes back. It comes back and consumes me.  I try to breathe and let go.  Forgiveness does not come easy.  I know that holding on to that rage is only punishing me, but it comes, without warning.  Then, if I am not aware of it and work through it, it turns into all consuming depression. 

The legacy of trauma that you left us lives.

It lives in our strength sometimes.  The passion and creativity that one of us has used to heal and dance through the pain.  It lives in the beautiful writing and creativity of the other.  It lives in my ability to help others through that pain when they are going through similar issues.  It lives in my deep respect and compassion for others.   My deep pain has opened my heart to others in a way that it might not have opened without the trauma.  It has given our girls an awareness of others struggles and with that, compassion and respect. They have not let that trauma turn into hatred.  Instead, they love others with open hearts.  Their trust of others may not be completely intact, but at least they can still love deeply.  You have not completely destroyed our tender hearts. 

The legacy of trauma that you left us lives.

But, we will not let it take us down.  We will keep putting one foot in the other.  We will dance through it.  We will write through it.  We will love each other through it.  We will take the ugliness and transform it into something beautiful.

You will not destroy us.  We will not let you. 

On the Brink of History for Wyoming

I woke up this morning, nervous and excited.  My home state of Wyoming is on the verge of deciding on full marriage equality.  This fills me with emotion as I think of people I know who have lived whole lifetimes in the closet, who have never been afforded the equal rights of other couples, who have lived in silence.  I could not make it to the rally for marriage equality in Casper this morning, but am there in spirit and solidarity with my fellow Wyomingites on the brink of this momentous event. 

Growing up in a small town in Wyoming, I was not exposed to a lot of diversity.  When I was around 8 or 9, my mom took me to a concert in Salt Lake City.  As I looked around, I remember vividly feeling a little confused.  My mom has told the tale before and I apparently said something like 'what is wrong with these people?' after looking around the audience.  The audience was predominantly lesbian and I was so confused.  Not sure what her response was, my guess is that she just avoided the question and let me wonder.  All I knew is that I loved the feeling of solidarity in that concert.  Little did I know that when I was older, I would become one of' 'those people'.

In Wyoming, when I was growing up, I could not imagine that a mere 25 years from my graduation from high school, we would be looking at the chance of full marriage equality.  Wyoming is a quirky state.  There is homophobia, racism, and sexism, as there is everywhere.  There is a bit of a 'live and let live' attitude that is still also tempered with a quiet acknowledgment that its all fine if you keep it to yourself.  It's been 25 years since I lived there and I know that my friends who were out and gay in my small town later actually ran into a great deal of acceptance.  This was not the case when I was growing up. 

My family attitudes and the attitudes of the society I grew up in kept me pretty closeted for years. My closest friends knew I was gay, but it wasn't something I would disclose in the workplace or to anyone outside of a very close circle, up until very recently.  I still feel discomfort and fear about public displays of affection.  Some of this is knowing that in my current state, Colorado, and in Wyoming there is still some pretty deep homophobia. I think the memory of Matthew Shepard and others who have been murdered, harassed and brutalized still breeds fear among all of us who identify as something other than heterosexual.  Even in my family, my partner,  of almost 14 years, would still be described as 'my friend' by some family members.

Still, I have the models of the people that came before me. Twelve years ago, I had the model of a close family member who came out to me at 15.  I watched him grow and be totally out and comfortable with who he was with his family, friends and community.   The models of people that were out and proud to be who they were helped me open my closet door wider and wider.   

And now, same sex marriage equality is sweeping the nation.  In a mere 24 hours, I was stunned to watch my current home state of Colorado have full marriage equality.  A picture of the first same sex couple to marry in my county was printed on the front page of our local paper.  Someone responded to this picture by writing a letter talking about the 'inappropriate' image for children on the front page of the paper.  Does she not know that a lot of us have children? That her hurtful attitudes affect them more than a picture in the newspaper depicting love between two people?  There was also someone in the comment section who talked about 'perversion' and the moral decline of our society.  However, the vast majority of the comments were supportive and railed at the hurtful attitudes expressed by the writer of the letter and the commenters.  The change has come thanks to so many who have given so much to see this happen.  The hurtful homophobic rants are still there, but they are being drowned out by a much bigger voice of acceptance and love.

Tomorrow, I hope and pray that the federal court rules in favor of marriage equality for all Wyomingites.  My home state is a jumble of contradictions, with little diversity, but a lot of love, strong communities and natural beauty.  May Wyoming choose to embrace all of its citizens and validate who they are with full marriage equality.  May my home state and its citizens accept others so that they can be who they are, fully, and without reprisal.   We are the Equality State, let's prove it.

UPDATE: Wyoming did it!! In just 7 days, same sex marriage will be legal in Wyoming barring any appeals.  The governor said publicly that he will not appeal, so I think we are 'in the clear'.  Seriously, did not think this day would come in my lifetime.  Change is here and it is here to stay.  

I Survived..

In honor of Domestic Violence Awareness month, I have decided to share my story and break the silence that accompanies domestic violence.  This post is in honor of someone I knew who lost her life to domestic violence.  Domestic violence is deadly and I hope that no-one ever forgets that.  I am lucky enough to be sitting here writing a blog post, but many are not that lucky. 

Going away to college when I was 18, I was filled with big dreams.  I was filled with excitement to get away from the small town I grew up in and experience life with new hope away from the troubles of my teenage years in high school. I never had a romantic relationship in high school and I looked forward to maybe finally finding someone.  Things did not start well the first few months in college due to a few very traumatic events.  However, the one thing that came out of these few months was my friendship with my 'soul' sister, my best friend, Heidi A. whose friendship still endures to this day even after her untimely death almost 7 years ago. 
 
At the beginning of my third quarter in college, Heidi's friend, X came up to visit.  I was immediately drawn to him.  He and Heidi were not currently in a romantic relationship, but had been in high school in Texas.  Why I was so drawn to him, I am not sure.  Anyone meeting him at that time would immediately sense that something was 'off' about him, but I thought he was charismatic, funny, sweet, and was so different than anyone I had ever met. Don't get me wrong though, I also knew he was 'off'.   Within a few short weeks, he and I were romantically involved.  He was traveling and living in his car with his dog.  The three of us took trips to the ocean and explored the Northwest together.  Heidi and I were left several times in strange cities, for many many hours, wondering where he had wandered off to.  We wondered at some of his behavior and our roommates even staged an intervention to try and get him banned from our apartment.  This early time was also punctuated with weird mind games that he loved to play on Heidi and I.  Looking back, I wonder what I was thinking, but at the time, I was swept up in some romantic ideal that told me that he was just 'misunderstood' and had so much to offer the world with his creativity, his music and his ideas.

My first quarter of my second year in college was a quarter of growth and friendship.  Heidi and I lived in an apartment together and would hang out for hours and hours every night with our friend, Matt listening to music and talking.  X was gone for this semester.  He had traveled to Kansas and then back to Texas.  My parent's divorced during this time, which caused some upheaval and strife.  I ended up going to Texas with Heidi for Christmas and re-connected with X.  I loved his 'nonconformity' and the fact that he would not adhere to any social norms.  After we returned to Olympia, he followed shortly after.  What followed were several months of tumult and strife that culminated in me leaving college and taking off with X.  Within several months, I was pregnant.  X started physically abusing me the summer before I found out I was pregnant.  He was increasingly paranoid about everything and often this paranoia led to hostility towards me.   At the beginning of this pregnancy, I once thought the child had died because he hit me so hard in the back that I started bleeding the next day.

I went back to college and isolated myself from my best friends, Matt and Heidi and from everyone else, including my family.  I know now how concerned they were about me.  I knew I was living a nightmare, but I did not know how to get out of it.  I thought I could somehow help or change him and that he would be better. Ironically, my mom was the director of domestic violence programs for the state of Wyoming.  My family knew what was going on, but felt powerless to stop it.  I remember vividly a letter my mom sent me early in my pregnancy, pleading with me to leave him and sending a big packet of handouts about domestic violence.  I ignored them.  X was becoming increasingly delusional and paranoid.  Violence was an at least weekly occurrence.  On my birthday that year, I came home from school and he held a knife to my throat.  I broke free and took the bus to a movie and stayed at my worried friend, Heidi's house that night.  Of course, I told no-one the extent of what was happening to me.  The pregnancy culminated in X becoming almost completely catatonic, me having the baby and both of us leaving Olympia and going to our respective parents houses. (One thing to note about this time period was that there was a doctor who I saw regularly throughout my pregnancy who had to have seen bruises, but never said a thing.  I do not know if him saying anything would have helped, but I would like to think it might have.) 

Amazingly, after all that, I ended up getting back together with X when our daughter was around 6 months old.  During our absence, he was hospitalized and medicated.  Alternately, I went with our daughter and lived with my dad and recuperated from the nightmare that was my pregnancy.  That winter, the three of us headed back to my college.  Some of this time was somewhat of a 'honeymoon' period for us.  However, although the violence had stopped, the narcissism and mind games were still there at times.  Deep down, I knew that I wanted more than this.  I knew that he hadn't really changed.  Even though some thought that his mental illness caused his violence and abuse, I knew that it did not.  I knew that even when he was medicated, he could still be self centered and hurtful.  He did not work and his grandiose dreams of being a musician were never realized.  We moved to Portland, and that summer, I fell in love with three different people.  I obviously was trying to get away from him, but did not know how.  I did try to leave him after falling particularly hard for the last of the three people, but he left and X was still there.  Within 2 weeks, we were back together.  I do not know why I kept being drawn back to him, but I do know that my self esteem was shattered.  I do know that perhaps I felt that there was nothing better out there for me and that perhaps, he was all I had and all I deserved.

Fast forward several years, we were living in Fort Collins and my oldest daughter was about to start kindergarten.  I was relieved as I felt that I could start working again and maybe get on the path to finally leaving X.  The summer before my daughter started kindergarten, I found out I was pregnant.  This was extremely hard for me as I did not know how to survive on my own with one child, let alone two. At the same time, X was told by a psychiatrist, who saw him for 15 minutes every 6 months, that he could go off his medication.  X became increasingly paranoid and verbally abusive.  One thing I did know is that I could not put my kids through this anymore.  It was enough for me to go through it, but to have my kids go through it was another thing.  My youngest daughter was born and things were not any better with X.  In fact, they were getting worse.  I started to go to an incredible domestic violence support group and therapy with the leader of that group.  The light came on.  Finally, I realized that not only could I get out, I had to.  Our lives depended on it.

I told X he needed to leave.  It was several months before he finally left.  However, he did not stop his abusive behavior towards us.  He would not leave us alone. I still cared for him as if he was a child and worried for his physical safety now that he was on his own.  I cared for him for years and it was hard to let go of that. But,I slowly started to let go.  Without the financial support of my family in these early years, I do not know if we would have made it.

Many of these periods throughout our relationship could comprise a book, instead of a mere blog post.  I will be spare in details, but, I finally started to move forward, in spite of all of the hurtful things he continued to do to us.  It wasn't easy.  I was not easy to be in a relationship with while I healed.  Today, we all still feel the effects of the things he has done.  His abusive behavior did not end.  As recently as this year, we had to get another restraining order due to harassing phone calls.  But, we move on.  The effects of domestic violence last a lifetime and there is never a time that I will be completely 'over it'.  Nor will my children.  It is like a scar that is healing, but never fully healed.  For  my children and others, I would impart the lesson that there is hope.  I would also impart that no-one ever deserves abuse and that you cannot change your abuser even when you desperately want to and think you can. And for those who love someone who is being abused and/or see or hear it happening, act.  Do something to help.  Offer financial support.  Offer emotional support.  Call the police.  Do something.  Most of all, do not abandon someone who won't leave their abuser.  Their staying may baffle you, but your support and the support of others could be the key to them finally leaving.  And finally, in spite of all this, I do not regret our relationship because it gave me two amazing young women that give me so much.  I would not trade that for anything.