Secrets...

A hallway covered in grooved linoleum paved the path to what would become my personality, my insecurities, and my self-image; a narrow corridor containing the doors to hell and only one for escape.  The perfect setting for recurring nightmares to invade my dreams; only one way to leave, but the door was always locked.  The second door on the left opened to a bathroom.  The décor was distinctive, 1970’s trailer house.  The tub, sink and toilet were avocado green.  The walls were paneled with gold flowers.; mass-produced shit with no individuality besides the occurrences contained in that metal box of a house.

This is where my childhood ended as quickly as it had begun; where I lost the beauty of being an innocent who knew nothing of the differences in human bodies, who felt that adults were supposed to protect kids. This is where I learned that nobody really wants to hear your story because then responsibility would be placed on them to act. How inconvenient and messy that would be. Just shut up and take it, no one really cares about you. Piece of shit, piece of shit, piece of shit….

So I became a carpenter. I built walls. My own shelter of protection and self-preservation. I began with my body. I put on an armour of fat; creating bulk between me and the world. Men don’t like fat girls so if I constructed a wall of unappealing flesh then I would be safe. Sugar became my drug of choice; the heroin of fattys.  It could make me comfortably numb while achieving my goal of self-destruction.

I built a wall of silence. I only spoke of things that others wanted to hear, wanted to know about me. After all, who would want someone so damaged and foul? I must become someone who deserves to be loved. So I will shut my mouth and be pleasant. Pleasantly generic and compliant.

I then constructed a giant wall of wit and sarcasm. I was always a warrior on guard for the next blow. I could counter attack with a creative insult or figurative gut punch that would stop a bully in his tracks. I had discovered that you could take another human’s weakness and turn it into a weapon. In striking the first blow, my opponent didn’t stand a chance. I never accepted a compliment because, frankly, everyone is lying and just waiting for me to put my guard down so they can torture me.

I don’t remember my breaking point; the actual moment that I decided that I could not live this anymore. It is not a date I can point to on the calendar, but rather a frame in my life when I began speaking honestly to myself. I stopped making excuses and decided that I was going to have to reconstruct who I am; building on truth and honesty, finding out what I am actually made of. It has been an adjustment for me as well as for others. I am sure that some people prefer the old me; generic, compliant, fat. Yes, that is a more pleasing combination. It is often easier to stomach than opinionated, liberated and strong.

But I choose to no longer be a victim, to find out who I am and nurture that person. I don’t have to hide my “secret” that I had no control over. I am working on forgiving and letting go of anger towards those who did not protect me and those who turned a blind eye to what was so obviously happening to me. I want to create worth in myself that comes from a pure place. No one else has to see it. I will know when it’s there.