Oh no...she's Unsilenced.
Once upon a time there was a tall dark-haired girl who grew up as the oldest daughter to a dairy farmer in the middle of Nowhere, Wisconsin. She loved to go to school, not so much because she liked school, mostly because there were people there her own age. She could talk there, although she didn’t much (she saved all her words for when she would become an adult). It was safer. Her favorite classes were recess and gym because she didn’t have to sit still. Once she got to high school, she involved herself in all kinds of activities, which became a way of being for her.
Because this girl found numbers more interesting then letters, she excelled in math over reading (again, saving her words for a later date, evidently). She lived more for the future than the present and looked forward to the day she could leave the farm and go to college. She ventured off to the best college ever (Go Badgers!) and after three years in pre-med, decided maybe being a veterinarian would be better than being a doctor working with such sick babies, so she got an Animal Science degree instead.
Then, she met Mr. Wonderful (ahem...remember this is “once upon a time”). They married and moved to the land of Minnesota Nice. Still stupid cold in the winter, and just as beautiful as Dairyland in the summer, so it was a good place to start, in theory. Vet school got ditched for working in an office in the commercial insurance world, mostly because she couldn’t type worth shit but aced the math test in the job interview. Plus, it was a job. She did her best to make an office life a fun adventure, too. Remembering that gym, recess and numerous ongoing activities were now “hard-wired” into this girl, the adult version of her craved the same kind of lifestyle. In addition to becoming a mom to 3 fabulous people, moving to a few different houses, and creating way too many “sanity” (i.e. therapeutic) gardens for herself, the futuristic tendencies of “is this really ALL there is?” kept gnawing at her.
The desire of some form of transformation seemed inevitable. Moving from an in-house sales job to outside commission-only sales (after 13 years of office restlessness); she also started her own direct sales business, and ran both consecutively for another decade. Enjoying raising those three babies into fun, contributing people, coaching in transformational training workshops and having tons of way-too-fun clients, although fulfilling, this life of hers still wasn’t “it”. Mr. Wonderful went away. (Well, sort of...which really should have happened correctly as this is her story, after all, so she should have been able to get that part right, dammit). Looking in the mirror, she realized that what was holding her in the only part of her world (besides her kids) that she was effective in was no longer fulfilling to her. So she quit her life in commercial insurance after more than two decades of success there and started her own coaching company, changing the letters behind her name on her business cards, and all that jazz. Again, being witness to her very cool customers bring forth their brilliance as her favorite reason for working, she ran that company for 10 years.
In the midst of all this, that same underlying “itch” continued to plague the girl: What’s next?
“What is the golden thread that runs through all the things that I have contributed to the world that I actually LIKE to do?”, she wondered. Then one summer, within about a 10-day span, she lost 4 of her accounts for different reasons that were not performance-related. She went into her backyard gardens and said to the Universe, “Ok, even I couldn’t “f” this up this badly if I wrote the script....what are You trying to tell me?!” Then she heard, “Go weed.” Which of course, she didn’t do...being told to do something isn’t something she responds to well. Well, that is, until a few weeks went by and her world got stalled – badly. She got over herself after a few weeks of not getting anything to crack open and set off to weed. Once in the garden, she got deluged with all kinds of “info” she didn’t want to hear. Being a master at “resistance”, she argued about not wanting to write “her story and the “work” she was to do as a writer/inspirer. Arguing with that “voice” that she could never make a living as writer, being a single mom with 3 kids, blah, blah, blah, wasn’t uncommon as she’s been hearing these voices giving direction since she was a little girl living in the country. Clue: listen when God talks. Resistance is futile.
Things that worked so wonderfully no longer did. Anywhere. She was in the midst of learning her life’s toughest lesson to date. Life started to unravel for her in almost every domain. She even started questioning if she lost her very natural ability to teach, sell and market. Life became dark. And still. And sad...Ok, “sad” for an eternal optimist might not look like “sad” to the rest of the world, but still. Worst of all, she noticed that she was really complaining. Who wants to hang around a complainer! Shit! Complaining really is a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Then something changed. “Houston” we have a problem.” She showed up at an Alanon meeting one day (another story) and her nice, efficient, co-dependent life of “shutting up” was started to fall apart, which “doesn’t sit well among these parts, don’t cha know.” Uh-oh...now what about fitting nicely in the land of Minnesota Nice (aka: Minnesota Passive/Aggressive) where she adapted nicely {cough}, given her background and relationship choices?
Diligently seeking an answer to the mess she created, she did her “homework” and additionally kept writing her damn “morning pages” daily. Yeah, journaling is revealing, which is the good news. And the bad news. Could her escape from this denial and argumentative fight about not writing “her story” be because, well, who would give a shit anyway? How could she come full circle to dig herself out of what appeared to be the bottomless well of ickiness? If nothing changes, nothing changes....as she taught as a coach for oh so long. After all, she taught her babies to “use your words!” for articulating what they wanted. Heck, they are ALL good writers now.
She started following her own advice. Genius, huh?
Being a teacher by nature, and a salesperson by trade, her innate storytelling abilities have been the common thread of her life’s success and happiness. Much of her writing is archived in droves of journals, because, after all, her private life was safer than having her talents “public”. Being silent, well for a highly verbal Gemini...let’s keep this in perspective...was the motto of the tall dark-haired little girl.
What’s next, I mean now, for her ever-evolving inspiring self is a “vision” she received that she is working on bringing forth to the world. It’s still private and is somewhere in fetus form, not ready for rest of humanity to experience quite yet. Now that her babies are all grown up, she moved to Pleasantville, so she can bring some color there (haha...and is lovin’ it) and has been complimented as a “bad-ass writer”. How much fun is that? Writing marketing stories for people who need let the world know about their genius.
Knowing that some flowers in life’s garden are destined to bloom later than others, she is happy. Or content...well, kinda sorta.
Written in the third person by the first person....thanks for stopping by!
