I woke up at 40 years old. And realized I, too, am a survivor.

“It’s not my job to protect the people who don’t protect me.” In the middle of my podcast interview Wednesday, that phrase popped into my head and right out of my mouth. Live on Instagram.
            And I didn’t stop there. For the first time, I publicly expressed that I, like my guest Darcey, am a survivor of emotional abuse. Ummm. There’s another first. Using those letters, typing them to form that gut-wrenching word.
            You, dear reader, have encouraged me with your personal messages, to GO THERE. So, I did. I am. I will. The alarm didn’t wake me. A whoosh of bold, brave, and bracing for what could be a triggering interview did.
            I, too, have cut ties with my abusers, which was one of the hardest decisions of my entire life. I am a connector and strangers become friends. Yet when you awaken, it’s tough if not impossible to unsee and unhear the reality of what is.
            During my Every Soul Has a Story podcasts, I rarely share anything personal. I want the focus to be on my guest, her/his journey, and it’s imperative to me that the person feels heard. Truth be told, I’ve been scared to share anything private, especially information that could unintentionally hurt another human being.
            After listening to Nona Jones last weekend at the Leadership Florida Conference in Orlando, I couldn’t stop thinking about her captivating presentation. She was abused, in a story all too familiar, and wrote a book about it.
            I told my story to a total stranger. I couldn’t believe how the succinct sentences flowed. Nona held my gaze with the wisdom of a shared experience. We understood each other—not many words needed. Then I asked her a question.
            “Is your mother still alive?” Surely, she wouldn’t stand on a stage in front of hundreds of people and relay the details of her experience.
            “Yes, she is.”
            And then Nona said it again.
            “It’s not my job to protect the people who don’t protect me,” she stated, calm and rooted in her faith. No edge, no bite to her voice, just clarity.
            “Aren’t you worried this will upset her? I can imagine you going there after she dies, but now?” I tilted my head, curious about her reply.
            “I have kids and I won’t have her around them,” she said. We kept talking, and I left knowing this fierce, loving force appeared in my life at just the right time. After exchanging phone numbers, we hugged tightly. Typically, I’d prattle to my husband with self-doubt, worrying if I’d (gasp) divulged too much.
            This time I didn’t. In fact, I felt empowered and emboldened. As I wrote in a newsletter earlier this month, freedom is the birthday gift I’ve chosen to give myself. I trust the timing of life’s synchronicities and my inner wisdom. Just as I can also spot duplicitous people, I immediately sensed Nona’s authenticity.
            So, on Wednesday, I realized the topic about why it’s not just okay but healthy to cut ties with people who hurt us was no accident. When I’d asked Darcey what she’d like to discuss, she wanted to talk about her father from whom she was estranged. She wrote a powerful essay in HuffPost on this subject. The first estrangement with Darcey’s father was in her late teens, and by twenty-nine years old, she’d severed ties permanently. Less than a year later, her father died from an illness. 
            I asked her during our Every Soul Has a Story podcast about regrets. I told her how incredibly courageous she was to leave and wise to know how toxic this relationship was for her. I also asked about how other family members reacted to her choice. As I suspected, Darcey said that was tough. We discussed how much people judge what they don’t know.
            And I shared more. Not too much but enough that my head throbbed for a bit after the interview ended. It dissipated within a few hours after I ate. A win. This wasn’t a trauma reaction; my communicative physical body needed nourishment.
            You know what? I used to swell in my abdomen for weeks after speaking about the people from whom I’ve disconnected. There were days I literally could not stand up straight. I realize that in sharing my own story, bit by bit, I  hope to empower others. And I’m also healing the deeper layers within me, the ones that formerly felt inaccessible.
            Though I awoke Thursday morning with a “holy moly did I ACTUALLY say that?” squeeze in my chest, it was fleeting and rapidly replaced with an epic exhale. I decided to stay in bed for a few extra minutes to reflect on not just the podcast, but the ensuing texts and calls with dear friends. I am grateful for my village and friends who I call “framily;” they’ve been cheerleaders, truth speakers, and confidants. I share unfiltered and fully offline with loved ones; but doing so in a public arena is way out of my comfort zone, to say the least.
            I’m thankful for freedom of speech. And those who don’t get it, those who’d prefer to concoct false narratives, I have compassion. People who do not live an authentic life are incarcerated. It’s not my responsibility to unlock their shackles. I lead my life with integrity and love.
            As July 4th approaches, I’ve read rants about how we don’t have freedom in our country, and the holiday should be canceled. I disagree. Yes, we undoubtedly have a fight ahead of us. Yes, I am also worried about where we are headed as a nation. While anger can be productive for progress, sitting in that space is septic for the spirit.
            I’m damn proud of choosing freedom this week. And it is just the beginning.


As always, I have questions and would love to hear from you:
 
How do you live freely?
What does freedom mean to you?