I believe in equality, if I blame someone for a part of my life’s suffering, I must also blame them for some of my inner strength.
I also believe in a thing called a paradigm shift…have you experienced one? Maybe this will be your day to experience one…
During my childhood, I was consistently taught and modeled to, the very best victim role any acting earthling could play on this planet and a level of low self-esteem unparalleled by most humans I have met on my journey so far. Everything that happened in their life was someone else’s fault; other people were always to blame for how the giants acted, what the giants were feeling, if the giants were even happy and so on.
I used to blame anyone I could for what I thought, for how I was feeling and even for things I did when no witness was around. But blaming is like saying they have power to control my thoughts, feelings and actions, although, all those things originate inside my own body, not outside of it.
It has been said that all the world is a stage and we are simply the acting characters in a play called “life on earth”. As I glance back I can see the many roles I have played; a student, to a drummer, song writer and vocalist in traveling country music bands, a rodeo cowboy for a while, a teacher, a contractor in home construction and many other roles before Charley shifted to Charlene, the name originally picked for me until I was born, then it quickly changed to Charley. A few years ago, to Cherlene for a time, then Charey, Charee’ and today I prefer Char, pronounced with a soft C like Shar.
I have witnessed my life consciously since around the age of 6 when I saw my little sister being spanked senseless by the giants who fed us. I was cute, funny, girly and a total shame to those giants. I was the prissy son who wanted to walk on his toes and who sat with his knees tightly together in elementary school. All my friends were girls.
I recall each of the shaming comments that would be made, Oh, look at that limp wrist sissy, he probably squats to pee, was one that stung every time I heard it. Oh, there goes another fella-girly look, was another.
Being born into a military family came with it’s fair share of challenges no doubt and I never felt safe enough or trusting enough to ever speak my truth in that environment, so I didn’t, I remained silent and played the roles they needed me to play or as long as needed.
But I did say equal opportunity and something about a paradigm shift earlier, so…
In 1967 a bill was introduced and passed, later in 1969 by then-Justice Minister and Attorney General of Canada, Pierre Trudeau, Justin’s Daddy, (who later became the 15th Prime Minister of Canada).
Up until that point it was illegal to be gay in Canada. A prissy son was immediately a predator or sexually demented offender, whether he was gay or straight. The list goes on as we all know and still feel the weight of, to far too great a degree.
I couldn’t see for the longest time that the amount of gay ver-bashing and shaming comments, were not spoken out of a hatred for me the cute and giggly one who cried at the drop of a hat.
All the hostile actions were done to save my life.
To send a cutesy little boy of 125 pounds out into the world prissy and all girly in those days was like sending that child to the front lines only a few years earlier. The hardest thing my giants had to do was convince me that it was far to dangerous to act so girly and one would surely not survive a life time of being hated on by others; at least not one as gentle as I. This is what happens when you “act” like that and we love you enough to show you this so you will be better equipped to handle the world and its cruelness; the world they had come to know.
When I told the soldier, my Dad, that I was dressing up and share pics with him, he said “Well, if you’re wearing jeans when I come visit we’ll go fishin’, if you’re wearing a skirt, we’ll go shoppin’, I’m good with either, I love you as you choose to be.” It wasn’t until after his passing on that I was told of a few other “men” in my family who shared this experience of feminine expression, although much more secretly than some of us today.
Sometimes the story we tell ourselves, the narrative in our head about what happened “to” me as a kid can be a weakening and victimizing feeling. It’s not too late to rewrite the emotional experiences of the past.
While I cannot change the events of our childhood, I can change how I remember them and repeat them to myself, and this changes what I feel inside, in the present.
I choose to see the actions of those giants as a life saving attempt, and very difficult actions for them to take; they did so out of love for me and the desire to provide me with the best survival skills for the time.
The intention of the giants does not matter really, what I believe the intentions were, is what makes the difference. The story each of us currently tells was learned, and a story we choose, can and will be learned by our mind. When we have told it enough times, it becomes our truth. That is why the current story now feels like truth; it’s been told enough times to crystallize into a belief.
If I believe the giants actions were out of hatred for me, a girly child, I feel one thing. If I believe the actions were made from a place of love for me, I feel another. Since one truth that I have learned is, no blame for anyone, not even the self, only acceptance of respons-ability for one’s own thoughts, feelings and actions.
I now tell myself a story that serves to empower and support me; it’s my story, my part to play and when I accept responsibility, I can then shift from feeling like a victim, to feeling like a creator and that role is wayyy more fun to play.
Your Weekly Reset this week, is to remind you that as Elinor Roosevelt said, all of the water in the world’s oceans cannot drown you unless you allow it to get inside of you…
Create your own story and be Empowered Sisters, I Am…
No Blame, only acceptance of one’s own thoughts, feelings and actions.
More Articles by The Author
- The Gift Exchange and the Playpen…
- A Witness at My Door
- One Step More than Yesterday…
- To Blame, or Not To Blame?
- It Must Be Hard to Be Gender Different Hey?