It Goes Like This

It Goes Like This

First off, as a someone who just joined the Twitterverse, I would like to extend a huge thank you to the #WritingCommunity and #VirtualReality community for taking me in as I journey on through the healing process. I am still trying to catch onto all of the group tags, the witty word games, and Twitter lingo you all seem to have. Plus, I’m super behind in following through on my #writerslift, but I will make my way to you. 


Now, directly onto the serious stuff because nobody likes a wordy blog...I wanted to try and keep my posts upbeat, but let’s be real, healing is painful (and also worth it!). 


The fact is, I’ve become extremely sad for humanity lately and how we exist on this planet. Nobody told me that becoming a parent would trigger things from my own childhood trauma and fill me with bitterness, rage, and fear that spews in every direction. Nobody told me that raising a child would crack my heart so far open with love that my eyes would bulge from my head seeing what’s going on in the world around me. At first, recognizing these truths drained me of energy, leaving me absent and unavailable to most.


As I heal and regain my power, the universe seems to have sucked me into it when I realized my direct connection. I’ve been taking time to recenter my energy and when I reach a certain point, I definitely want to help women who have had similar life experiences. In the meantime, I will strive to be the “light” for others and “show up” each day, as Brene Brown would say (btw, the Netflix documentary, Call to Courage, is fabulous). 


I’ve muddled through existence for so long. One thing is clear, anything I have left must go toward building a better future for humanity. I will not burn out, and I will change the game...dragging all my GenX’ers with me. I cannot settle for simply “existing” in this world, I must live, and it goes like this...


Part I. Breaking the Silence.


The hardest part about being a writer in a time of healing (amplified by pandemic pandemonium and everything that is 2020) is that my thoughts are continually evolving to the point where the idea of sharing them is paralyzing. It just feels like words on a screen become permanent (don’t they?). When I re-read my prior blog, I thought, “Eek, I could have delivered THAT better...perhaps with more compassion and a less privileged tone; which I totally acknowledge and it’s a discussion for another time. It’s just that I want so badly to move the needle on the wholeness of humanity, but please know, I really am coming from a place of LOVE, even if my delivery sucks. 


As I’ve been more vocal on social media lately, too many times I’ve looked back at posts thinking, “okay, DELETE. Why would I post THAT...I’m embarrassed for myself.” Then I remember to take it easy because my emotions are high for countless reasons, and I’m literally evolving into a new person while undergoing uncomfortable change; it’s awkward. I want to be a voice to raise awareness for childhood sexual abuse (and all things related like PTSD and Co-Dependency, Suicide Awareness) but I’m still finding my way, and that’s okay because my intentions are pure. 


Part II.  Committing to Healing.


Look, traumas shouldn’t be compared but I can appreciate that there’s a spectrum and part of the reason why I never spoke up earlier is because some overconfident voice in my head told me, “I’m fine. I let this happen to myself. Keep things in perspective. Keep up the image. Stay extra busy. There are people out there who have it far worse.” The voice that kept me going is what started to destroy me until I sought the help of a naturopath and a therapist. I also realize that not everyone has access to these professionals, so I hope one day to be able partner with those people and organizations in my network to extend mental health resources to other trauma warriors, either pro bono or at a reduced rate. 


Anyway, it’s been two years since I first told my Mom what happened to me as a child, and it’s been just over a year since picking up my pen as a creative writer again. While I am proud of my progress in this healing process, I just want it to be over and to be “healed!” It’s frustrating how long it’s taking to retrain my brain and restore my nervous system to a healthy state even though I seem to have permanently changed my DNA over the years. My brain and body have definitely suffered.


It’s not that easy to undo a lifetime of damage all the while trying to live in the present moment and be the parent my child deserves. Choosing to heal is a long-term commitment you make to yourself. You can’t just check it off the list, and that’s hard for an overachiever to comprehend. It’s literally depressing to open old wounds as an adult and process exactly how warped the reality was around you as a child, only to awaken and realize how twisted our society’s priorities really are. I am finding my authentic self and unsubscribing from the things in my life that no longer align with my values, and so far (while uncomfortable at times) it feels great.


Part III.  Keeping Poetry Alive.


I mentioned earlier I had paralysis around writing recently. The irony of all this is that many people are turning to writing right now because it calms the mind and helps release emotions; However, my inspiration to write remained bottled for various reasons. It’s almost like I have this sense of urgency to get everyone onboard with healing their childhood traumas, to start living for themselves, and to dig out of the shithole of existence. Clearly, I don’t know how to put that eloquently but I can’t hold back anymore, and I just want to scream. This blog is supposed to be a “light” place, and my heart has been feeling not-so-light (to say the least) with the events taking place in this country and around the world. 


I recently came across an article from The Atlantic, “How Poetry Can Guide Us Through Trauma” wherein the author says, “Whether by conveying the scale of national grief during a pandemic, or exposing the relentlessness of racism, poetry has already created new ways of experiencing, and surviving, life’s darkest chapters.”


As a child I LOVED writing, reading, and memorizing poems, so it’s only natural to get back to my passion that fills my soul, especially since it can help with the healing process. Just to take the pressure off, I’m not putting myself out there as the Maya Angelou of the century here. Simply put, I’m an emerging poet on a healing journey, committed to raising awareness, encouraging women and children to speak out, and keeping poetry alive while I do it because I love it so. Hopefully I can help a few women along the way, too.


In conclusion...


For all those who are suffering, I see you. Feel free to connect and say hello if you’re struggling with mental health as a result of childhood trauma. I may not have all the solutions or answers at the moment, but I can be an ear and share some tools. For example, I enrolled in the “Introduction To Inner Parts Writing Workshop” on Saturday, September 19th at 1 PM EST. In this 2-Hour Live Interactive Video Workshop with trauma recovery coach, Elisabeth Corey, “who will introduce us to Inner Parts writing and together we will begin to open the door to the powerful messages that are keeping us from our best life!”


I am living to unite trauma warriors and build a community for the greater love of women (aka GLoW). Let’s have the courage to break our silence, commit to healing, and glow through poetry. 


In this spirit, I would like to share one of my poems, “The Glorious Chance.” Check out my social media to read the poem and to hear the reading that I did in a Virtual Reality poetry slam (bear with me for the first 45 seconds of technical issues)!


GLoWing Links:


Blog: www.glowagain.org

Facebook: @GreaterLoveofWomen and @dynawrites

YouTube: The GLoW Project

Twitter: @Dyna_Gwen

Instagram: @Dyna_Gwen


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