Digging in.

Its been one of those days. And tonight after eating too much gluten at the local pizza place, I knew what I needed before I hit the sack here.
A tub. One of those put the meditation music from you tube on your phone full blast so you cant hear the boisterous teenagers and hyper puppy. Fill it hot, with some Epson salt and essential oils that your body is craving.
And that’s just what I did. As I was laying there, zenned out with my head supported on the old porclain back of the oldie but goodie tubby of mine, I practiced cleansing breaths. Thoughts came and went from the “I’m sorry body, I will eat healthier tomorrow”- to remembering the husband and I have a possible lunch date in the AM.
Thats when it hit me, the words- write your truth.

So here it goes.

First, I have a dear soul friend who has taught me, to always do things first for you. This is why I write my truth. No, I’m sorry is needed, I spent years feeling sorry for myself. Now, looking back- I never would’ve grown into me, if this truth never happened. So, as sick as it sounds- I am grateful. Writing, is like speaking to me- and each time I do, I feel- well, empowered. And, if just one person reads this with a like story- and feels not so dark and alone, then its a double bonus for me.

So, grab a cup of coffee- possibly a Kleenex, and dig in.

I’ve always hated the dentist. And, especially a few years back, an old man dentist who wasn’t kind and gentle. Who made me feel guilty and shameful that my mouth was full of cavities, and had the beginnings of gums disease and wisdom teeth that had to come out.

So, when I head enough guts to quit seeing the old dentist guy,and called up my dental hygienist friend to refer me to a gentle dentist, I was tickled pink when I found him. He didn’t make me feel bad for my neglected mouth, he hymmed when he worked on me, and after a few visits I new- dog gon it, I trusted him.

I remember a couple years ago sitting on his chair, and deciding I was going to not cross my arms and feet when he worked on me. I was going to open up. I trusted this guy. He was, well good. So, as I layed in the chair and closed my eyes I was shocked to feel my body start shaking, and to see a vision of an elderly man in my mind. I remember the sweet dentist saw me crying, and told me gently, something about being done for today, and coming back when it felt right. I remember leaving out of there, driving home as fast as I could- to lay in bed in the arms of my husband- wondering what it all meant.

You see, a few people around me that I love had started remembering sexual abuse a couple months prior. I spent hours, doing online questionares wondering if I too had been a victim. I knew either I was, or else I was left traumatized feeling guilty by association for it happening to them. Then, I read the book “Waking the Tiger” by Peter Levine. Which explains how your body disassociates trauma, and how to peal apart the layers and heal your life. I had just finished the book, finally convinced that had went to sexual abuse war,(it felt like to me many around me had been sexually hurt) and just didn’t get shot at. Then came the dentist appointment and picture of an old elderly man- and my mind was left with a thousand questions.

I spent hours playing detective. Tearing apart baby books, to feel my childhood. I took a trip by myself to see a licensed somatic experience therapist to help me uncover my truth. I needed to know, how big it was. Did he rape me, or did he just tickle torture me with a gun in his pants?

I started slowly recovering more. I remembered a time sleeping by myself at there home, and getting “tucked in” and me not feeling safe, so I lied and told them that my belly hurt and I needed to go home. I can still hear them hollering at each other, with my Barbie nightgown on as they were trying to figure out what side your appendix is on, and if I should go to the hospital. I also remember my dad shortly later picking me up, and giving me a puke bucket incase I was going to hurl on the ride back to where my family was. I remember falling asleep that night feeling sick from lying about being sick.

Fast forward years, I Then I remembered a puberty ridden boy asking me to touch his privates, and not to tell anybody. And, my voice shaking telling him no- I was so proud.

And, the rest- well I don’t remember. I just remember a lot of darkness, and feeling alone. Abandoned.

Soon, my friends and I were experimenting with each other. I would learn how to play boyfriend/girlfriend with one and then I would teach another. To this day, I am still healing shame on not knowing boundaries myself. I am still learning to let go, that it was what I knew- and (this is hard to write) but, its okay if it felt good.

You see, I was raised believing that the “boogie man” was going to get me if I went outside alone in the dark. That Sunday after the noon meal was time for the old elderly man to steam roller you (which consisted of him rolling on the floor on top of you) and that it wasn’t uncommon for someone in the family to tell you, that you were chubby and ate too many cookies. I wasn’t raised with or learning good boundaries.

And, well- my life has been teaching me that.

I am the first to say in years pass, I would crack a raunchy sex joke to a group of men and women. I would always take my words, my actions- a step too far. Looking back I never left my intimacy to just my husband and I. Sacred, as I believe now, it should be.

And now forward, forgiveness. Is a big one. Having to let go of playing the victim and knowing that your parents, your family- did the best they could do, with the tools they had. And they did. Its very humbling to me, as a young parent myself that I didn’t teach my kids about there sexuality. About boundaries. About good touch/bad touch. About owning there body- until I started healing the missing link to my own. Knowing this, is part of the reason why I write this. Awareness.

The truth is, I don’t know the truth. Its like a puzzle, that you possibly might never get all the pieces too. Sometimes you feel as if you took someone elses piece, sometimes you get a flash and can fill in the middle with a big chunk. All I know is how it made me feel. Shameful. Terrified. Alone. Abandoned. Betrayed.

And, I believe because of this I have hid my body- and I have felt shame, for my sexuality.

What I do know is my life has showed me,(by life experiences and boundary breaking) the healing that I have needed to do. And, I believe that’s Gods way of bringing you to the truth. I also believe that the more we heal, the more we are modeling our kids to heal . And, lastly kids will possibly not tell you what went wrong (I never wanted to hurt my mom or cause her any pain) they will show you. An example being me teaching my friend how to “play boyfriend/girlfriend”.

About a year ago, I met a holistic dentist out west. I hadn’t been to one for almost 2 years (since the flash). There I vulnerably told him my story, and why I hadn’t found dental care until I had a raging abcess, I told him about my last experience. And, he listened. He gently put grounding rods in my hands, and showed me how to raise my hand if I wanted him to be done. Then, he slowly started fixing my mouth. With tears rolling down my eyes, and the dental hygienist (who looked like my mom) holding my hand, I let him.

Fast forward to a couple weeks ago. Dead teeth removed, cavities filled, and a partial plate made for my top mouth, I had graduated, I was done! As, I slid the partial in my mouth, and looked in a mirror- I made it. My mouth was healed.

Last weekend my friends and I were at the local Mexican restaurant enjoying dinner. After a late night I arrived home and realized that my partial was left in a napkin on the table, at the Mexican joint. The next morning I called them trying not to be frantic about losing my mouth piece. After a trip to the dumpster and digging through soggy tortilla chips and sticky beer bottles, I realized it was gone.

Today, my teeth have three open spots where the fake teeth on the partial were. And, I had to sit back and reflect to, see what life was teaching me with this highly spending lesson.

What I got out of it was,

No matter what you lose, you are precious. No thing you put in your mouth or person can take that away from you.

And, the truth is- I don’t know what the truth is.
I just know I will spend the rest of my life filling in the few open dark spots, with love.

Till next time friends, lets bring darkness into the light. Lets share our stories, knowing we are all in this together. Lets teach our kids, vulnerably by talking about the hard stuff. Lets practice safe boundaries. Lets be a little softer, kinder- to each other.
Lastly, lets never forget that we are all precious.
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xoxo,
Michelle, the girl who is learning to run with dresses on.

Comments

  1. The knowing of sexual abuse as a child is hard to learn and discern; for our child mind and body experienced it. How can a child know what it doesn’t know? Introducing a child to anything sexual is far beyond the reaches of a child’s mind and life experiences. Truly, and sadly, a child just isn’t ready for anything sexual; but it is….and sadly still with a trusted family member or friend.

    It is confusing as an adult….never mind that of a child.

    And, it is sanctioned by the parents; for typically they are there or they brought you there.

    How can a child’s mind make sense to this and then live out life without affects.

    The betrayal bond….when you love someone who hurts you.

    Mostly, and most often it isn’t the memories of childhood; but the lack thereof. And, the odd moments as the affects make themselves known….that we know.

    I am sorry you experienced this…and I love that you are brave enough to want to know the truth.
    And braver still for saying it out loud. I personally, feel there is great strength and power, to begotten from breaking your silence and sharing the fractured pieces of your darkest places.

    The shame for your sexuality isn’t something that is natural; it is the affect of sexuality being introduced as a secret. We take forth the shame…when the abuse isn’t seen for what it was and correctly addressed.
    We somehow blame ourselves for the game we participated in and not the adult who knew more.

    Finding our innocence is a beautiful thing.

    Thanks for sharing!

  2. Aleena Torola says:

    Thanks for having the courage to share, Michelle.

  3. Thanks for sharing and being vulnerable Michelle! I too can relate and my heart aches when I hear of friends that have gone through the same thing.

    • Michelle Massie says:

      Emily,
      Thanks so much for your love and support! I think of you often, and wish you and your family well! xoxo

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  1. […] (Excerpt from another blog) I’ve always hated the dentist. And, especially a few years back, an old man dentist who wasn’t kind and gentle. Who made me feel guilty and shameful that my mouth was full of cavities, and had the beginnings of gums disease and wisdom teeth that had to come out. [Read More >>] […]

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