Post #840
[Private journal entry written on Saturday, May 5, 2012 – continued from previous post]

After dinner, Sara decided to ride with James in his vehicle. Cindy took me back to my studio – which is where my car was parked. In the few minutes we had alone in her truck, I took advantage of the fact Sara was not with us (this was the first time I’d ever been with Cindy without Sara) and I had a conversation with her that was similar to the conversation I had with James during dinner.

She asked me how long it had been since I had done the partying thing. I told her that it has been four or five years since I’ve gone out to a bar and hit on men . . . and probably two years or so since I’ve had any alcohol.

She said that alcohol is not a big part of her life although they do enjoy, for example, having a glass of wine with dinner. She inquired if something like that would be a problem for me.

Me: I don’t seem to have the full-fledged alcoholism thing going . . . it’s not like I’ll go off on a two-week bender if I have one drink. In fact, I probably would do fine with a glass of wine with dinner as long as the social situation didn’t trigger some emotional crap.

But, for example, if I had a glass of wine while on a first date, there is a good chance that trying to maneuver my way through a first date would bring up my stuff around men and sex and fear of rejection . . . so that would not be a situation in which it would be wise for me to have a drink.

Cindy: What might happen in that case?

Me: If things got stirred up for me emotionally, I would find it hard to stop at just one drink . . . and then there is a chance I’d throw caution to the wind and would end up driving drunk or having a one-night stand.

On the other hand, if I went out to dinner with an old friend and I knew there wasn’t much space for my emotional crap to get triggered, and if I were in a emotionally stable place overall that week, I’d probably do just fine with a glass of wine with dinner.

However, in order for it to be safe for me to have a drink, I have to try to predict how all the details of the social event would fall into place . . . and that is pretty hard to do. I don’t always know what might trigger me or what might happen unexpectedly that could throw me off balance.

It isn’t worth it to me . . . it is too much risk just for the pleasure of having a glass of wine with dinner. So, I’ve decided to just not drink at all.

Cindy: It sounds like a smart choice!

Me: Thank you . . . I think so.

Once she dropped me off at the studio, I jumped in my car and drove the six blocks home. And that was the end of a very enjoyable evening.

So, today, I’m processing my feelings around the evening . . .

I still find myself wanting to share the details of my journey with people. It makes sense on one hand . . . the last ten years have impacted who I am at my core. The difficulties I’ve faced have changed me because I had to change in order to survive. And, I believe that change has been for the better . . .

Of course I would want to share that whole experience with people with whom I feel emotionally connected. How better to let them see my true colors?

Photo by Martin Chen

I’m not sharing the details of the dark times as a way to be a victim or to gain sympathy or to excuse the parts of “who I am” that I have not yet embraced . . . no, I’m sharing those details because I am amazed with myself . . . I am amazed that I survived and that I am finding a way through.

I think I got emotional when Sara performed because it made me so very aware of how far I’ve come . . . that seven or eight years ago, I was routinely getting drunk and sleeping with strangers . . . and now, I’m conducting myself honorably, I can be trusted to behave myself around men, and I’m sharing talents that were almost strangled by my molester . . . and, I’m making a difference in the lives of these kids . . . I’m really making a difference . . . and last night was about the honoring and celebration of my contribution to the world . . . and that I’ve arrived at a place in my journey where I can contribute to the world in a meaningful way.

As I’m thinking about that this morning, I’m almost more emotional now than I was last night. Tears are freely running down my face as I’m journaling.

It was a really meaningful night for me. It left me with a strange feeling . . . it’s a good feeling . . . it’s a sense that I’m a normal person and that I “belong”. I think I’m in awe of how far I’ve come. I really do feel like a normal person. I feel like I’m doing normal things and contributing in normal ways and I don’t have secrets anymore.

Maybe that’s it . . . I don’t have secrets anymore . . . I think that’s it . . . I don’t have any shameful secrets now. I’ve always felt dirty and disgusting and shamed and ashamed and shameful, and that’s going away.

I’m starting to embrace the idea that I am respectable now.

Maybe that’s another part of it . . . last night vividly confirmed for me that respectable people consider me to be respectable. Not only do I know I’m respectable, but other people see me that same way.

That’s huge.

Anyway, it’s just kind of a strange, new place for me to be, but I like it. It’s a good feeling.

I wanted to share a sense of this experience with Edward, so I had the following email exchange with him this afternoon:

—————

Hi, Edward -

Another share-worthy moment . . .

Last night, the cop/paramedic couple (James & Cindy — the husband and their eight-year-old daughter are both piano students of mine) invited me to attend the Charter Academy’s student talent show as their guest. Their daughter, Sara, was performing an arrangement of Fur Elise by Beethoven that I arranged just for her.

(Six other of my students were also performing, so on the way into the show and as we were leaving, I got mobbed by kids and parents . . . I was so popular that we had a hard time getting out of there, LOL!)

After the talent show, James and Cindy took me out to dinner (just the four of us).

During the evening, Cindy (the paramedic) told me that she appreciated how my efforts with their daughter has allowed her to blossom and to be able to get up on a stage, all by herself, and perform in front of 200 people. Then, James (the cop) thanked me for allowing them to spend the evening with them — he said they don’t have a lot of close friends that they socialize with and that they consider me part of their family and value the chance to get to know me better. It was a very impactful statement for me to hear.

It took me until this afternoon to figure out why I was so impacted by their words . . .

I am learning what it feels like to be respected and (loved?) by respectable people . . . I am learning what it feels like to behave in a respectable manner around men and by doing so, I’m now getting to establish emotionally intimate relationships with quality people. And, I have no secret behaviors that cause me to think of myself as “shameful” and “disgusting” . . . I’m able to live my life in an “open book” way. I’m living life as a respectable person — I am respectable now.

It’s a whole new world . . . one that feels really good to me.

- Marie

—————

Dear Marie,

Welcome to your whole new world. How wonderful!

Warmly,

Edward

Post #839
[Private journal entry written on Saturday, May 5, 2012]

One of the public schools in our little town is a charter academy. Last night, this charter academy held their student talent show. Seven of the students in the talent show were piano students of mine.

One of those seven students was Sara, the daughter of the cop (James) and paramedic (Cindy). I had created an arrangement of Fur Elise by Beethoven for her, which she played at the talent show.

To show their appreciation for my work with Sara, James and Cindy invited me to go with them to the talent show (they paid for my ticket) and then to go out to dinner afterward. I was tickled to accept.

Sara had a lesson right before the talent show. After the lesson, I rode with Cindy and Sara to the talent show – James was coming from work and met us at the school. The four of us walked into the school together.

I didn’t think about the possibility that I might become emotional during the talent show. I should have been aware of that possibility . . . obviously, I know how emotional I get during the recitals in my studio . . . and that’s the case even though I’m always very focused on making everything happen as planned, which allows me to be distracted from my emotions to some extent.

Photo by Martin Chen

I should have known that, in a situation like this talent show where I’m not focused on making things happen, there would be plenty of brain space to allow for intense emotions . . .

And, as soon as we walked into the gym, I felt the emotions rising up . . . a mix of emotions . . . pride in my students, gratitude for my friendship with this family, appreciation for how different my life is now compared to ten years ago . . .

And, as soon as Sara took the stage and started playing, the tears spilled over. Of course, there weren’t just a few tears . . . there were many . . . I just lost it.

When Sara finished playing, both Cindy and James turned to look at me with big grins on their faces . . . I smiled back, trying to show my pride and pleasure . . . James looked surprised to see my tears. His face quickly dropped into a sober expression and he asked me if I was okay.

I assured him I was . . . I whispered to him that I get emotional so quickly when I see my students do so well . . . when I am reminded of how proud I am of them and how blessed I am to have them in my life.

Cindy happened to have one tissue with her and she gave it to me . . . I used it until it became a soggy lump. Then, I just wiped my tears and snot away the best I could with my hands . . . a bit messy, but, oh well, LOL.

Anyway, the talent show lasted a long time . . . almost two hours. People with little kids started leaving before it was finished – I don’t blame them! That was too long.

After the talent show, all the parents/adults pitched in with putting away the chairs; then the four of us headed out to dinner. It was getting pretty late by then, but none of us had to get up early the next morning, so the late hour was not much of a concern for us.

At dinner, the conversation was pretty light and fun . . . all topics that would be appropriate for Sara’s eight-year-old ears . . . I didn’t contribute much to the conversation . . . I was content to mostly listen to the easy banter among the three of them.

At one point, we got to talking about food . . . what each of us likes and doesn’t like . . . I told them about when I didn’t have a job and I didn’t have any money . . . I moved into my sister’s basement . . .

There were several months during which my family bought groceries for me. Without that help, I wouldn’t have had food to eat. One day, my sister told me that a nearby grocery store was going out of business. Each week, they were dropping the price on anything that was left on the shelves. On that day, the prices had dropped to something like 75% off, so she took me there to go shopping . . . she gave me $100 to spend there.

Of course, by then, the food had been pretty picked over. The stuff that was left was the worst of the worst . . . it was food I didn’t like and would normally not be willing to eat. However, beggars can’t be choosers . . . so, I selected $100 worth of food from what was left on the shelves . . . and I was grateful for it.

Over the next few months, I would eat whatever food I had on hand that I liked . . . for example, food that my mom cooked for me . . . food that was given to my by friends . . . and, when that “good” food ran out, I would go into my little kitchen area and look at those cans and jars of “yucky” food sitting on my shelves . . .

How hungry was I, really . . . ?? Was I hungry enough to eat that yucky food?

Some days I was that hungry . . . other days, I was not . . . some days I just didn’t eat.

When I told them about that experience, I told it in a light-hearted way . . . I was laughing . . . I wanted to share part of my story with them, but I didn’t want to get too heavy because Sara was present. It really wasn’t a light-hearted story, but the only way I knew to share it in that situation was with a humorous flavor to it.

At one point, Sara and Cindy headed off to the restroom, which left James and I alone at the table. For some reason, that made me nervous . . . it is easy to make conversation with him when we are at the studio because we can talk about whatever until we run out of things to talk about, and then we start the piano lesson . . . or, if we are visiting after the piano lesson and we run out of things to talk about, we see it as his cue to leave.

To be sitting with him at a dinner table where we were “obligated” to find something to talk about . . . well, that made me anxious . . .

So, I launched into the first topic I could think of . . .

Me: You know . . . this kind of thing is new to me . . . I mean, socializing with people, hanging out with people . . . I don’t really know how to do it . . .

James: What do you mean?

Me: I spend a lot of time with people in professional settings . . . teaching, networking meetings, business meetings . . . but I don’t just “hang out” with people . . . I’m kind of rusty at it . . . it has been a long time since I’ve done that . . . I’m not sure how to behave or what to talk about . . . I’m not sure what topics are kosher . . . I don’t know if I’m supposed to always keep it light or if it is okay to get into heavier topics . . . I don’t know what is “normal” . . .

James: I think you can talk about anything you want to with us . . . well, I mean, we have to keep it age-appropriate for Sara. But, other than that, you are welcome to talk about anything.

Me: Okay . . . that’s good to know . . .

James: What has kept you from socializing with people?

Me: In my 20′s and 30′s, I went out a lot . . . but, that involved getting drunk . . . having one-night stands . . . it involved high-risk behavior . . . it involved me doing things I’m not very proud of . . .

So, when I got into the therapy process and started dealing with the trauma in my childhood, I knew I had to stop that destructive behavior. I was behaving like that as a way to numb the pain . . . I knew I had to stop that behavior and start dealing with the pain.

I didn’t know how to develop and maintain healthy friendships . . . I couldn’t trust myself to behave in a healthy way when I went out with people . . . so, I stopped going out at all. I pretty much became a recluse. That was the only way I knew to stop the destructive behavior.

So, now, I’m just now starting to venture out into social situations again . . . the people I’m hanging out with now are high-quality people . . . they are people who conduct themselves honorably. But, hanging out with honorably-behaving people in a social setting is a whole new experience for me.

I know how to engage in risqué conversations . . . I know how to be inappropriately sexual in my behavior . . . but this business of hanging out with quality people and conducting myself appropriately in social situations is rather new to me. I’m still figuring it out.

James: You’ve never done anything with me that I would consider risqué or inappropriate . . . you are doing very well handling yourself . . . I would have never known you were struggling with it!

Me: (Grinning) Thank you!

James: Are you comfortable hanging out with us?

Me: Well, yes . . . I mean, as comfortable as I can be, given the fact I’m learning a new skill . . . I really enjoy you guys’ company. I’d rather be stumbling my way through the learning process in front of you guys than with just about anyone else!

James: You know . . . you are family to us . . . we consider you as part of our family . . . I hope you know that.

Me: (Struggling to keep my emotions steady) Wow . . . no, I didn’t know that . . . that means a lot to me . . . thank you . . . it is an honor.

[Continued in the next post . . . ]

Post #838
[Private journal entry written on Wednesday, May 2, 2012]

Yesterday, I sent an email to Edward in which I recounted my “heavenly cave” dream. I went into some detail, although not as much as I did in my journal entry.

Today, I received a response from him:

Dear Marie,

Thanks for sharing the dream.

I’m quite touched by the warmth and reassurance it offers.

I look forward to seeing you soon, and talking more about this.

Warmly,

Edward

—————

I attended the conscious business group meeting this morning. Since our big reorganization a little over a month ago, they have introduced a coaching activity into the program. Every third week, a professional business or life coach comes to the meeting and provides 20 minutes of one-on-one coaching for two different people in the audience (two separate 20-minute coaching sessions, one after the other).

These coaching conversations usually are very private. However, we do them in front of an audience. We handle the privacy issue by making sure everyone in the audience agrees to maintain confidentiality around the coachee’s identity and the subject matter being discussed.

I wasn’t sure how effective these coaching sessions would be, but I’m learning they are very effective . . . very transformational. It is very powerful to watch a transformation occur right in front of us.

Today, our coach was Taj Steiner, who lives in Oregon. He is the founder of “Heart Circles”. According to his website, here is how he describes Heart Circles:

Our culture needs new ‘social structures’ that support personal awakening and community connection. The Heart Circle is a powerful pioneer in this field. Its elegant simplicity works to create a ‘resonant social field.’

Heart Circles are deliberately designed to support people in finding out what each person wants in order to be more open-hearted and connected to one another in community.

They are all-member facilitated and self-sustaining. Instead of using techniques and rigid formats, they encourage people to come into the moment to discover what wants to happen next. By meeting weekly, friendship and social support becomes available on an ongoing basis.

Because he is not in Colorado, they decided to do the coaching via Skype. I was surprised by how well the Skype arrangement worked . . . it was still quite powerful.

At the start of the coaching, the Skype connection had a lot of static in it. Then, after a few minutes, it cleared up.

Photo by Martin Chen

Then, about 15 minutes later, it started coming back and Taj made a comment to that effect. Amanda, the group leader, laughed a little and said that she had been holding the space for a solid connection and that she had gotten a bit tired and needed a break . . . she had lost her focus which is why the connection developed static again.

No one had realized she was holding that space for us . . . and once she said that, I asked if she would like some others in the group to help her hold that space. She said that would be nice . . .

Several of us formed that intention and, immediately, the static cleared up and the connection stayed solid for the remainder of the coaching time.

I find it so interesting that this kind of conversation is commonplace in our group. It is so refreshing to be part of a business group that is comfortable recognizing and operating with that “paranormal” space.

For whatever reason, I was very emotional today in the meeting. I was the note-taker for the coaching sessions (so the coachee can better recall what was said in the coaching session), so I had to stay very focused on what was being said. I was taking notes and wiping tears at the same time . . .

Because I was taking notes, I was not able to participate in the conversations that Taj had with the group before and after each coaching session. But, at the very end, before we ended the Skype session, Taj went around the room and asked each of us to give a brief description of what we experienced, thought or felt during the coaching sessions. When it was my turn, I told him that, even though I hadn’t had a chance to speak up during the group discussions, I still felt seen and heard by him by proxy. I felt there clearly would have been space for me to be seen and heard had I spoken up.

At one point in the meeting, it came to light that one of our members was struggling with being able to meet some basic needs and that she really needed some help with a variety of day-to-day responsibilities. Immediately, several of the group members piped up with offers of help . . . it gave me a warm, fuzzy feeling to know our group members really care about each other in a very practical way.

I really like this group. I’m so glad I found it.

Post #837
[Private journal entry written on Tuesday, May 1, 2012]

Last night, I had a very vivid dream . . .

I was in a big house with all my family (mom, dad, siblings, nieces/nephews, a few cousins). All the sudden, I became aware I was pregnant and delivery was imminent. I went into labor and had the baby (a five minute process with lots of fear of pain but no actual pain). I felt absolutely no connection with or love for the baby, which bothered me a lot because I believed I should feel a connection with the baby. As a result, I fell into a deep grief-filled depression and cried and cried and cried.

My family kept trying to help me develop a connection with the baby and to resolve the depression. But, they couldn’t. I didn’t know the cause or the solution, either. I didn’t want to be bothered by them so I kept hiding behind furniture and in corners and under stairs, but they kept finding me and trying to help me.

Photo by Martin Chen

I cried out, “Leave me alone! Leave me alone!” But, they wouldn’t.

Finally, I ran out into the backyard and into a very beautiful garden with trees and rose bushes in full bloom and birdbaths and little benches designed for resting and thinking . . . I found a safe hiding spot near a tree and sat down. All of the sudden, I fell backwards into a time/space warp . . . much like Alice in Wonderland did . . . I found myself in some other-worldly dimension . . .

Once I landed (quite gently, by the way), I found myself in this rather dark, closed-in space . . . maybe a cave . . . ?? And, I found myself in the company of a handful of not-so-human beings. They were considerably shorter than I am (which is saying a lot because I am quite short). It was obvious they were the kind of beings who live for hundreds and hundreds of years . . . maybe forever . . .

I’m not sure if they were angels or good witches or what . . . but, they were kind-hearted and gentle-spirited . . . and very wise. They weren’t very “pretty” . . . they were all gnarly and had stooped shoulders . . . wrinkled faces . . . I swear at least one had a huge wart on her nose . . . but I could see the color of their souls was very white . . . very pure and good . . .

I think this place was a “heaven” of sorts . . . although it didn’t fit the traditional vision of heaven put forth by Judeo-Christian teachings, the ambient energy in the place felt safe, warm and welcoming to me – and that is how I hope heaven feels . . .

One lady with waist-length, wispy, grey hair stepped towards me and greeted me warmly. She introduced herself as my mentor. I got the sense that she is a spirit guide who has had regular communication with me throughout my “real” (non-dream) life.

In my dream, she conversed with me . . . sometimes with words and sometimes with emotional impressions . . . the first impression she gave me is that the sadness and grieving I have been experiencing (in my dream and in real life) is part of a temporary state and that the uncomfortable state will pass.

She gave me the impression that there is no need to stress out about the uncomfortable feelings – even if they last the remainder of this lifetime – because this lifetime is simply one quick lifetime in a series of many lifetimes . . . this uncomfortable season is very brief when put against the enormous size of timelessness.

She assured me that someday I would totally understand what had happened and I would see its purpose, and I would understand that things are unfolding exactly as they should be unfolding.

I allowed myself to be comforted by her words . . . and then I moved on to another topic . . . concerning something she had said that piqued my curiosity . . .

“Have I been alive for a long time?”

“You have been around for a very long time.”

She picked up a stone tablet . . . it looked somewhat like a tombstone, but it was obviously not a tombstone. It was similar to the stone tablet on which the ten commandments were recorded in Biblical times . . .

It was a record of when I was born. She showed me the date . . . the month was “01″, the day was “01″, and I think the year was “01″, although I don’t remember actually seeing and reading the year.

She said, “You have been here since the beginning.”

“What century would that have been?”

“It was before centuries were even measured.”

“Can you give me an idea of how many years it has been since I was created?”

“You came into being about 15,000 years ago. Not too many people were created on the same day as time was created, but you are one of those few.”

“What is the date of my ending?”

She showed me a date near the bottom of the stone tablet . . . the year was something like 2498. So, I knew I still had a few hundred years left.

“And then I will be gone?”

“No, that is when you stop going into human form. You’ll continue to exist, but you’ll come here and be with us.”

I stood quietly, thoughtfully . . . I soaked in the sense of calm that surrounded me . . . this place had a sense of forever . . . of being part of a grand, universal purpose and plan. While I had no idea how all the pieces of infinity fit together, I was aware that the beings around me had full understanding.

My mind went back to the house from which I had just traveled . . .

“What about the baby . . . I don’t understand why I don’t have any sense of connection with the baby.”

“It is okay . . . just trust that it is all okay and that your reaction and your emotions are normal and that it will all work out for the best.”

I nodded to indicate my willingness to assimilate her wise words.

Without using my voice, I extended the question: What about a significant partner . . . ??

(I mean, you know . . . I figured I might as well make use of this opportunity and ask something I really wanted to ask! LOL)

She intuitively picked up on my question and piped right up with, “Oh, come over here!”

We rounded a bend in the “heavenly cave” and came upon this guy just standing there . . .

He was maybe 5’10″ or 5’11″ . . . the top of my head was about level with his shoulder . . . he had a stockier build . . . not really athletic, but not overweight either . . .

He had dark brown, curly hair . . . not very long . . . not a buzz cut . . . but long enough that his natural curls had sufficient opportunity to show their curl. His face was a bit round.

His spirit was rather quiet . . . not shy . . . just not loud . . . gentle . . . kind . . .

He seemed to be aware of us, but he was not interacting with us . . . it was almost like what I was seeing was a hologram being reflected from a “real” version of him located elsewhere.

All of the sudden, I noticed there were actually two manifestations of him visible . . . in one manifestation, he looked like he was about 35 years old. He looked like he was about 50 years old in the other manifestation.

Again, without words, I inquired as to why there were two manifestations of him . . .

“These are two of the ages at which you will be encountering him in your different lifetimes.”

“Which one is the one I’ll be experiencing next?”

She pointed to the younger one on the left, “Oh, this one.”

“What is his name?”

“Dwayne . . . with a ‘w’ . . . definitely with a ‘w’ . . . “

“And his last name?”

She gave me his last name . . . and I still had it clearly in my mind when I woke up from the dream, but it quickly started to fade. I do remember it was something like “Wickham” or “Rickmeyer”.

I stepped over to where Dwayne stood and hugged him. I felt an instant connection with him – it felt like I had known him forever and ever. I kind of melted into his arms . . . I felt really, really safe . . . peaceful and calm.

I actually woke up while I was in that position – in that hug – with him.

Once I woke up, it took me quite a while to return fully to reality. The dream was so real that it felt like I really did travel to that dimension . . . maybe I really did . . .

The thing with the baby was interesting . . . I wonder how much of that story line comes from my real-life abortion . . . the baby in the dream was a boy, and I’ve always felt like the baby I aborted was a boy, so maybe it is the same baby.

I wonder how much of the “baby” storyline has to do with my recent insights around my “womb space” . . . and the depression I’ve been fighting . . . maybe some of the depression is really grief . . . I don’t know . . . a lot to be sorted out, I guess . . .

It was a comforting dream. I came out of it with a sense of purpose – that’s there’s a bigger plan in place . . . that I don’t need to understand it from my current human perspective because, someday, I’ll be one of the wise ones, talking to other people about their experiences . . .

Post #836
[Private journal entry written on Saturday, April 28, 2012]

Yesterday morning, very early, I sent an email to Edward:

Good morning, Edward!

I just woke up from a dream . . . a gentle one . . . I was in a post office (not sure if I was an employee or a customer) and was having a conversation with an employee (a very effeminate male) about a computer transaction. Then, the conversation turned more personal and I mentioned I was looking for someone for something (I don’t remember for what) and asked if he knew someone who would be a good fit.

He pulled out a business card of a lady and strongly emphasized that she would be a great fit. In fact, he actually had tears in his eyes as he said it — I could see pain there as I got the sense he really wanted an opportunity for her to do whatever it was I was looking for someone to do. I got the sense I could provide an opportunity for this woman to show up in a way she hardly ever has had the opportunity to do.

As soon as I looked at the photo on the card, I could clearly see it was him dressed as a woman. I could see that feminine side of him was crying to come out and be expressed. I wondered if he was wanting to transition fully from male to female, or if he wanted to retain his “public” male expression as well as his “private” female expression so he could retain the dualism of the contrasting expressions.

And that was the end of the dream.

When I woke up, I realized that the guy was representative of me. And, I realized that my being revolted by the idea of having a “womb space” in last week’s business network meeting is related to that.

I also realized that I may have never told you about the ambiguity I have experienced all of my adulthood around my gender identity and sexual preferences — I’m not sure it has ever come up in our conversations.

As I’ve traveled along this healing journey, I’ve often wondered how much of that ambiguity comes from wounding/trauma and how much comes from natural expression — and I’ve often wondered what my gender identity and sexual preferences will look like after significant healing.

So, it seems this could be factored into our conversations around the “womb space” and about body memories.

I’ll see you in a couple of weeks!

- Marie

Today, he responded:

Dear Marie,

Thank you for sharing both your dream and its significance.

I look forward to including issues of gender identity and sexual preference in our future sessions, and to support you in this healing journey.

Warmly,

Edward

Post #835
[Private journal entry written on Wednesday, April 25, 2012]

Note to self: Before putting the digital recorder back into bag/purse, make sure to move the power button to the “lock” position . . .

Yeah . . . earlier this week, as I was standing and conversing with someone from my professional world, I bumped my bag against my leg . . . which caused the “play” button on my digital recorder to be activated . . . which caused my bag to start speaking quite loudly, in my voice, sharing my most intimate journal entries with those around me . . .

Photo by Martin Chen

You know how – when your phone rings in a very quite moment during a well-attended, very important meeting – it takes forever for you to find your phone in your bag, then it takes even longer for you to find the “vibrate” function on your phone . . . and you know how your hands shake terribly and you drop everything and make a fool of yourself while you are trying to quickly silence the phone because you are horribly embarrassed . . . ??

Well . . . it took me three times longer to find my recorder and get it to shut up . . . it took FOREVER . . .

I’ve come to the conclusion there is no graceful way to save face after one’s bag suddenly starts having a loud conversation with itself about masturbating and binge eating . . .

Yeah . . . that dang “lock” switch is pretty important, I’ve discovered . . . especially if I’m going to continue my habit of capturing therapeutic insights on my recorder . . .

It wouldn’t have been so bad if it had only happened once . . . but, of course . . . it happened twice within as many days . . . broadcasting the same recorded journal entry . . .

Fortunately, it was with two different groups of people . . . although, it might have been better if it had been with the same people both time . . . maybe . . . I’m not sure.

Yeah, I really must remember that dang “lock” switch . . .

—————

Over the past few days, I’ve been having an email exchange with Jeff (my student who is a psychiatrist) that included the following text. He has been a bit absent from my world lately as he is spending most of his “spare” time with his daughter in a hospital in Denver . . . she was born two months premature and is fighting for her life.

Me: I don’t make this offer to too many people . . . but, if you are interested . . . last October, I captured my “life’s story” (as it stood at that point) in a 13-page document. I can email it to you if you are brave enough to read it . . . it’s pretty raw, but I don’t think it’s anything you haven’t heard before . . . I just don’t know if you care to hear more of that type of stuff after hearing so much of it in your practice – but there are some “yahoo!” parts in there, too. Either way, it won’t hurt my feelings . . .

Jeff: Sure, I would check it out. I’m pretty good at having a firewall in my head between thinking like a shrink and just being interested in people’s stories. It sounded like your story is an interesting one. And people’s stories always teach me things.

Me: I’ve attached it . . . I guess the “firewall” thing is helped by the fact I already have a therapist, that I’m already doing so well as a result of working with him, and that I’m not looking to you for professional/clinical input. Thank you for being interested!

After he read it, he wrote:

It’s funny. I read your story one day when I was sitting in the hospital holding [my daughter]. Maybe it’s not that funny, as that’s where I am, mostly, unless I’m at work. But anyway, it seemed weird to be holding my little daughter, who doesn’t even understand language yet, while reading about someone who was flooded with too much too soon.

I love that you broke the kid’s eardrum.

What a perfect response.

—————

This week, I’ve been focusing on planning out the use of my resources over the next year. I really enjoy the planning process and I’m looking forward to all the cool things I’m hoping will occur in the next year.

The planning process gives me hope. I like having hope.

—————

I went to a conscious business group meeting today. We did a group exercise during which the leader demonstrated the power of keeping our attention focused on our own perception of what is happening rather than worrying about how other people are perceiving the experience.

For example, I can keep my attention centered in my body while observing what is happening around me. That is a much more powerful choice than trying to imagine what other people are seeing and feeling and thinking as they interact with me . . . because, when I try to put my eyeballs into their head, I am tempted to try to manipulate what they are thinking and feeling about me by changing my behavior. I am tempted to try to bring their experience of me more in-line with what I want them to think and believe about me.

That is a waste of time and energy . . . it is much more powerful to focus on my own experience and keep my eyeballs in my own head . . . it keeps me more grounded, centered and authentic as I interact with people, which is always a good thing.

Post #834
[Private journal entry written on Sunday, April 22, 2012]

Whew! Another round of piano recitals are completed and “in the history books”!!

We had three recitals: one yesterday afternoon and two this afternoon. Including all three recitals, there were 33 student performers and around 135 audience members.

In yesterday’s recital, the cop (James) played a solo and then he accompanied his daughter (Sara) as she sang, Star Spangled Banner. I had mounted a large American flag on the wall next to her “stage” area . . . and her dad held her hand as she climbed to the stairs to the stage, and then he held her hand as she climbed down afterward. Of course, before she began her piece, she asked us all to stand and honor the flag . . . so, the whole room had our hands over our hearts . . .

James got totally lost during the song and had to just quit playing (he is not experienced/skilled enough to improvise) . . . he laughed and told Sara to just keep singing . . . and she did . . . and he was able to come in again at the end to give her a strong ending. It was the cutest thing in the world!!! And, James could not have been a more proud daddy . . . LOL.

Photo by Martin Chen

Fianna, the Irish harper (as opposed to a “harpist” – two very different titles), brought her large harp (large enough that it sits on the floor) and a couple of smaller lap harps. Towards the very end of the recital, she took the stage as my guest artist. She talked about her harp and about Irish music, then she played a few Irish pieces, including Greensleeves. She even wore her Irish renaissance festival outfit to give us a complete Irish experience . . . she was awesome! After the recital, she let the kids come up and play a few notes on the various harps. The kids were in awe!!

As everyone was packing up to leave the recital, James came over to me and asked if he could give me a sideways hug (with the two of us standing side-by-side). I said, “Of course!” It was a big, demonstrative hug . . . a very nice one . . . it left me feeling a bit buzzed . . . in a good way . . . I guess he was tickled how everything had unfolded and thankful for the work I put into the recital . . .

Anyway, after the recital, my mom took me out to dinner (she attended the recital then took me out afterward) . . . she knows only too well that I usually am so preoccupied getting everything set up for the recital in the morning that I don’t think to eat until the evening. So, I took a break and had a nice meal with her.

Here is the really cool thing . . . in the hour before yesterday’s recital was scheduled to occur, I managed to get everything done and I was able to take a few minutes to catch my breath before unlocking the doors. I still had not found a guest artist for the two recitals scheduled for today. I had pretty much given up since I was down to the eleventh hour. However, in those few minutes during which I was catching my breath, I decided to put out a few more phone calls . . . a “Hail Mary” move, I guess you could say.

Then, while my mom and I were eating dinner, I got a phone call . . . the harp professor from our local university (a university that is internationally known for its outstanding music program) said she would be happy to come over to my little town and perform a piece on her concert harp for my students at both of today’s recitals – no charge. (I did have a token gift card for her, but it was really only enough to cover the cost of fuel for the trip over here.)

I about fainted! That is more awesome than I could have imagined!!!! When I went back to the table and told my mom the news, I almost couldn’t contain my joy! I was so excited!

So, today’s recitals went awesomely, as well. My three oldest students (three teenage siblings) played a piano/keyboard trio of Star Spangled Banner that I had arranged for them. They used my one acoustic piano and the two digital keyboards. Of course, we had all the audience members stand in honor of the flag again . . . and, the kids played their piece flawlessly. It was COOL!!!

So, anyway, the harp professor and I had a few minutes to visit before today’s first recital and she told me her motivation for performing for my students . . . she is opening up a classical harp studio about 15 minutes away from me and this would be cheap marketing for her. I encouraged her to talk about her studio during her presentation/performance . . . hopefully she can get a student or two from the exposure! I am happy to help her out in that way, especially since she was giving my students and me an awesome gift!

In between the two recitals, I was a bit behind on getting things done . . . and the professor jumped in and helped me with the photocopying and distribution of the programs. When I thanked her, she stated that she has one-handedly put on enough recitals that she can appreciate the last minute panic that can occur, especially with an effort as large as the one I undertook this weekend.

She was an incredible performer . . . you can tell she has taught for many years . . . she has a big personality – a lot of fun – and her passion for harp became obvious to everyone in the room. And, the piece she played was breathtaking . . . I didn’t know harps could be played like that! It was awesome!!!

After the recital, she asked me more about my work with students with special needs. I told her about some of the issues I see in my students and some of the approaches I take in order to better support their learning. She said she has two special needs students (one autistic and one dyslexic) and she wants to get together for coffee sometime soon and pick my brain about it . . . she is really struggling to know how to effectively work with them.

Of course, that made my day . . . here is a university educator with decades of experience in teaching music . . . she has a doctorate’s degree in music . . . and she wants to pick my brain because she can see I have something to offer her! Hah! Take that you sticks-in-the-mud who said I’m not a legit music teacher . . . hah!

So . . . I’m home now, relaxing after an insane but incredibly fun weekend . . . I might go to sleep a bit early, if I can get my brain to shut down, LOL . . .

Post #833
[Private journal entry written on Wednesday, April 18, 2012 about a conversation with my therapist – continued from previous post]

—————

Me: Now . . . here’s something that I find very curious . . .

Edward: And what is that?

Me: Kyle is very good looking . . . and charming, successful and outgoing . . . he gets hit on all the time. Yet, I am not infatuated with him.

I respect him . . . I think he is a neat guy . . . I am fond of him in a platonic way . . . but, I have no feelings of infatuation . . . I don’t feel a sense of connection with him on a spiritual level . . . not at all like I do with Luke.

The good news is that I’m not worried if I’m “sexy” enough for him because I’m not interested in him sexually. That makes it easy to relax around him . . . it is easier to be authentic.

Photo by Martin Chen

Edward: And why is that curious to you?

Me: Well, I don’t know why I would feel pulled so strongly to Luke and not to Kyle. They have similar priorities and mindsets . . . although Luke feels more “evolved” than Kyle . . . maybe that is the difference . . .

I would like to understood the reason for the difference.

Edward: Do you think it is something on their part or something on your part? In other words, are they doing something that causes the difference?

Me: I don’t think it is anything they are doing . . .

I feel pretty self-confident when it comes to non-romantic / non-sexual relationships with men, which is what I have with Kyle. I don’t feel a need to have approval from men with whom I’m not interested sexually or romantically.

However, I don’t feel confident when it comes to the romantic / sexual stuff, which is what I’m hoping for on some level with Luke. I am wishing for someone like Luke to approve of me in that way so I can feel better about myself . . . which, realistically, isn’t going to help things, but, it’s what I wish for . . . it’s what I wish my dad had given me.

So, I think the approval stuff is based on that . . . I pretty much understand how that all plays out . . .

What I’m really unclear about is why I’m interested in the two of them in different ways. I suspect it has to do with what you said in our last session – that Luke has the ability to see me in the way I most desire. I’m guessing my “gut” or my soul, or whatever, knows that Kyle can do that at some levels, but that Luke is capable of doing that at deeper levels.

Edward: That sounds like a reasonable conclusion to me!

(After a respectful pause) Marie, can we go back to something in the last document you read?

Me: The one about what might trigger me?

Edward: Yes . . . can we go back to the last scenario?

Me: The one on being instructed on body movement?

Edward: Yes . . . can you tell me more about why that scenario might be triggering for you?

Me: For a long time, just the thought of working with a personal trainer, male or female . . . just the idea of it . . . would affect me to the point that I would become very emotional – even to the point of weeping – even when I was by myself and just considering the idea. It took a while to get to the point where I could even think of it without crying. Then, it took some more time to the point where I could talk about it with someone I might hire as a trainer without totally disintegrating into an emotional mess. When I talked to Kyle about it, I cried a little bit, but I was still able to have a conversation despite my tears.

I’m concerned that I’m going to be overly emotional while in a training session with Kyle. I might get triggered because of being that close to him, taking direction from him, being in vulnerable positions, having to move my body in the presence of another human . . . the related emotion might come up, take my breath away, and make me cry. The good news is that I think he could handle it.

However, I would rather process the body memories as much as possible here in therapy so that I can focus on fitness stuff with Kyle. I’d like to keep the trauma therapy stuff in therapy.

Edward: The fact that you might become emotional as you are working in close proximity with Kyle is very understandable. Do you think it has something to do with a fear you might lose control and not have a voice with which to assert yourself and regain control?

Me: Ummmm . . . no, I think it more a fear that I’m going to be assaulted again.

Edward: Assaulted in what way . . . what might that look like? What I’m asking is . . . might it be a stranger grabbing you as you walk down the street, or maybe someone you know pinning you down . . . ?? Can you allow your imagination to “go there” and picture what you fear might occur?

Me: (Closing my eyes) Phew . . . um . . . I guess it would be like someone making me do something I don’t want to do . . .

So, it wouldn’t be like someone grabbing me or me trying to fight him off . . .

It would be more like I wouldn’t have the ability to do anything to help myself and to stop what was happening . . . I would be helpless.

Edward: Do you think you would be able to push the person away and tell him to stop?

Me: (Starting to feel anxious and a bit sick to my stomach) No . . . I mean, I physically would be capable of doing that, but I would be too paralyzed to do it.

Edward: Paralyzed by what?

Me: Terror . . .

(Struggling to keep my breath steady) I’m not allowed to use my voice . . . I’m not allowed to fight . . .

Edward: Is he holding you down?

Me: No . . . he is controlling me only with his voice . . . his voice is quiet and low . . . he tells me what position to assume and I have to do it . . .

Edward: Whose voice is it?

Me: Right now . . . this time . . . I’m remembering my dad’s voice . . .

(Opening my eyes) He never grabbed me or threw me around or fought with me physically. He would use his voice to make me go into a submissive position so he could whip me.

There was never an opportunity to fight back physically . . . he never held me down physically . . . he only controlled me with his voice . . . he made me hold myself down, I guess you could say.

I had to submit or the whippings would be even worse. If I showed any sign of not being totally submissive . . . if I held eye contact with him . . . if I took too long to get into the position to be whipped . . . if I dared to say a word in my own defense . . . it would be worse.

I think it was similar with Jerry. I think he knew he could just tell me how to sit and how to move . . . and I complied because that is what I had been taught was my role. I had been taught I had no boundaries and no right to use my voice to say no.

Even in my rape fantasies, the guy doesn’t hold me down. Rather, I submit and assume the position without saying a word.

Edward: So, if Kyle uses his voice to instruct you on how to move into a position . . . especially if he is directing you to move into a more vulnerable-feeling position . . . it reminds you of when your abusers did the same thing to you?

Me: Yes . . .

Edward: And your body still remembers what always happened once you assumed a submissive position?

Me: Yes . . .

I know logically that Kyle is not going to harm me or make me do anything I don’t want to do . . .

Edward: But your body doesn’t know that.

Me: No, it doesn’t.

(After a long pause) I already knew what was underneath that trigger . . . but, I think it is beneficial to process it some more in here, with you. I can feel that some of the stored energy has been released today.

Edward: I’m glad to hear that! I agree . . . it is beneficial to continue processing those memories until they no longer have such a hold on you.

Me: Thank you for creating a space for that.

Edward: You are very welcome!

You have been taking some very brave steps lately . . . that shows me that healing is occurring.

Me: Yes, I agree. It feels to me that my relationship with you is a point of security and reassurance . . . this is my home base, and from this point, I can take steps out into the new and unknown . . . if it gets too scary, I can return to this place.

Edward: Very well said! I love that you feel that way about our relationship and our time together.

Me: Thank you for your role in creating that place for me!

Edward: You are most welcome.

(We sat quietly for a few moments . . . then I changed the subject . . . )

Me: I attended the conscious business group meeting this morning . . .

Edward: How was it?

Me: Educational, as usual . . .

The speaker talked about finding strength and centeredness in our body as we conduct our business . . . how to ground ourselves in either our “woman body space” – if we are a woman – or our “dude space” – if we are a guy. Obviously, the “woman body space” applied to me . . .

Edward: (Tilting his head and smiling a bit) Obviously . . .

Me: She had us close our eyes and find the center of our body’s energy . . . she said that, in guys, it is in the “penis space”, which is low in their pelvis . . . I think that is right . . . I wasn’t really paying too much attention when she was talking to the men.

She said that, for women, it is about where our womb is . . . a bit higher than our pelvis . . .

My first thought was, “Oh, well, I don’t have a womb.”

My second thought was, “Wait, yes I do!”

I had literally forgotten I had a womb. I guess I’m that disconnected from my body . . . especially the feminine aspects of my body.

Anyway, as I sat there and pondered the idea I have a womb, I found myself revolted by the idea.

Edward: Revolted in what way?

Me: I’m not sure . . . I just felt myself energetically trying to separate my womb from the rest of my body . . . to continue denying I even have one . . .

Even now, it is really difficult to imagine a womb inside my body . . . it’s like trying to imagine I have some other foreign objct sitting in there. I really don’t want to have a womb. I don’t even like saying the word.

It’s just weird . . . I don’t remember this ever coming up for me before . . . I’m not sure what to make of it.

Anyway, it’s a new awareness that I thought we might examine at some point.

Edward: I think it is definitely something worthy of our time . . . however, we don’t have time today to get into it . . .

Me: Oh, that’s okay . . . the emotions around it are still pretty raw for me . . . I even had trouble bringing up the topic today. So, it would be nice to have some time to process it on my own before we look at it in here.

—————

With that, we began wrapping up the session . . . said our good-byes . . . and I headed back to my little town.

Post #832
[Private journal entry written on Wednesday, April 18, 2012]

I haven’t done much journaling in the past couple of weeks . . . I’ve been super busy!

During the time Kyle and spent together in my personal training session, he encouraged me to invest in a new heart rate monitoring device. My old one is maybe 15 years old and simply displays the current heart rate. The only way I can get an average heart rate is if I stay on one machine throughout my workout and have the machine capture that signal and calculate my average and maximum. The new devices keep track of all that themselves . . . and they store the historical data for the last handful of workouts.

I guess technology has advanced a bit in the last 15 years, LOL . . .

So . . . I went shopping and bought a really cool one that will warn me if my heart rate goes higher than a certain parameter (one set by me) and also when my heart rate drops below a certain parameter (also set by me). There are fifteen ways to Sunday to manage and organize and display the data . . . it all but does my laundry for me.

Of course, that got me all excited . . . I set up all kinds of spreadsheets around all those really cool functions . . . and I couldn’t wait to try it out at the gym and on a hike . . . it is SO COOL!!!

One day, at the gym, I saw Kyle and told him how much fun I’m having with my new toy . . . he grinned and said, “Yup, I knew that would float your boat! I knew it would motivate you!” He was so right!

—————

My in-studio recitals are schedule for this weekend. I’m getting so much more efficient with preparing for them . . . I have it down to a science. I know exactly where every piece of furniture and every piece of electronic equipment goes . . . I know what needs to be done on Friday evening and on Saturday and on Sunday . . . I have people lined up to help me with the stuff I need help on . . . it is far less stressful to me now that I have a few of them under my belt.

Photo by Martin Chen

The one hiccup that I’m scrambling to fix is that Lisa, the Irish flute/concertina player, who was going to be my guest artist for the two Sunday recitals, backed out a couple of weeks ago. She said she didn’t feel prepared well enough. So, I’m scrambling to find a replacement.

I’ve called every single musician I can think of . . . and I’ve called the people they have suggested . . . and I’ve called the people they have suggested. I have feelers out all over Northern Colorado. I guess it’s not the end of the world if I don’t have a guest artist, but the students will be very disappointed as they were looking forward to hearing the Irish music.

The good news is that Fianna is still going to perform on her Irish harp for my Saturday recital. She is very excited about it . . . very nervous . . . but very excited. She will be awesome!!

For my piece, I’m going to play the hymn, “It is Well with My Soul”. It has been one of my favorite hymns since I was a child. I haven’t found the time to compose a piece, and I haven’t taken the time to prepare a showy piece, so I’m going with something I can play without much preparation . . . I know it so well from playing it all my life that I can play it in my sleep, almost.

—————

And . . . today was therapy session day . . .

I most wanted to share with Edward the experience I had with Kyle. So, I dumped onto my tablet the documents I had prepared a couple of weeks ago for my consultation with Kyle. Once I had arrived at Edward’s office and we had gone through our usual greetings, and once we had gotten settled into our respective seats, I told Edward what all has happened with Kyle since my last session . . .

I told him how, after I bragged to him about having lost nine pounds, Kyle offered suggestions on how to rev up my cardio workout. While his suggestions were unsolicited, they were appreciated . . . but only after I wrestled with my fear around the idea of changing my program so radically.

Edward congratulated me on my ability to work through my fear and resistance, which allowed me to become receptive to Kyle’s input. He acknowledged the courage that required. I acknowledged that, as well!

I continue my update . . . how I found Kyle’s input so valuable that it motivated me to set up a consultation with him sooner than I had originally been thinking . . . and how the consultation had been so validating for me . . . how Kyle was so “tuned into” what was going on with me in general as well as in the moment . . .

I told Edward about the documents I had prepared for my consultation with Kyle. I explained how I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to put so much information into those documents . . . I was concerned Kyle might “glaze over” with that many details. However, I know he believes that our physical health is greatly affected by what is going on in our thoughts and emotions, so I figured that information would help him better help me.

However, the reason I put it into writing – as opposed to giving him a verbal rundown – is so he could read it, which would be faster than me talking . . . and, he could refer back to it later, if he cared to.

I asked Edward if I could share the documents with him. Of course, he said he would like that very much. We decided that I would read the documents out loud.

I started with the document titled “Marie’s Story”. When I got to the part about being sexually assaulted in my late 20′s, Edward interrupted me to ask how I feel now about the assault. I told him that I had been able to process it, for the most part, with Mark and that I feel pretty okay about it now.

I think what bothers me the most now is the collective somatic memories I still have resulting from what happened with my dad and with Jerry . . . I’m pretty sure that some of that somatic memory comes from the sexual assault, as well. I’m still working to rewire my automatic responses to outside stimuli – and that is my biggest challenge in working with Kyle.

When I got to the part about being financially devastated, Edward said he had not known that was part of my story . . . I know I have mentioned it in passing, but I’ve not made a big deal of it because I’ve pretty much processed it and am doing okay with it.

He also expressed surprised about the role my housemates, and their piano, played in getting me headed down the path to becoming a piano teacher . . . I mean, I never intended to be a piano teacher, it just happened . . . and it was one of the most fortunate flukes of my life!

After finishing the “About Marie” document, we moved onto the “Situations that can be ‘triggering’ for me” document. When I finished reading it out loud, Edward requested that I tell him more about the emotions I felt during and after my consultation with Kyle, especially around Kyle’s reaction to the documents’ contents . . .

—————

Me: I felt very heard, understood and supported by him. It seems he is willing to allow me the space to be wherever I am with things. I don’t think he will push me to change faster than I feel ready to change. I think he will place challenges in front of me, but I don’t think he will push me to change or criticize me if I don’t change.

He has repeatedly told me that he is all about creating lifelong habits that support health. He believes it is not beneficial when people make sudden, extreme changes. He is also big on the mind/body/soul connection . . . he believes emotional health and spiritual health supports physical health and visa versa. So, because he believes that, he is encouraging me to also tend to my emotional and spiritual issues.

I believe he will be patient with me, even if my progress is painfully slow. I love having that respect from him – I love that he respects my unique process and that he trusts that I know what is best for me. He is willing to follow my lead.

Edward: Congratulations on creating such a supportive partnership! It sounds like he is going to provide the kind of support you most need and want.

Me: Thank you. Yes, I believe he will.

[Continued in the next post . . . ]

Post #831
[Private journal entry written on Friday, April 6, 2012 – continued from previous post]

We began our tour with the ellipticals . . . we played around with pushing my heart rate up and then letting it come back down . . . what effect the different resistance and incline levels had on my heart rate and breathing . . .

Then, we went to the rowing machine . . . then we toured all the different types of stationary bikes, including one with a “video game” screen attached . . . you can go on all kinds of tours . . . long, short, curvy, mountainous, flat, steep . . . and you see where you are going on the screen . . . it calculates all your stats . . . it was pretty cool.

I was very busy checking out all the features and was not really paying attention to where I was traveling on the virtual race track. At one point, my virtual bike was skidding along the side of the racetrack. Kyle reached over and turned my handlebars so that I went back onto the middle of the track.

I laughed . . . and asked if it made any difference to my metrics if I was in the middle of the track or if I was skidding along the side . . . I mean . . . I was wondering, if I went off the track, would I head out across the grass and run into a building and “die” or would my bike basically stay on the track and keep going . . . ??

Kyle said my bike would stay on the track and basically keep going . . . it wouldn’t affect my metrics.

Photo by Martin Chen

I debated for a few seconds . . . the thought crossed my mind that in earlier days, I would have turned my attention away from exploring the cool features and focused on keeping my bike in the center of the track. The reason I would have done that is because I was locked in compulsive perfectionistic behaviors – because I thought I was loveable only when I was perfect, so I tried to demonstrate to everyone how perfect I was by doing everything perfectly . . . folding and stacking the bath towels . . . organizing my calendar . . . organizing my clothes by season, type and color . . .

I’ve worked so hard to relieve myself of the burden of having to do all those compulsive behaviors. I’ve gotten quite good at identifying when I’m getting ready to do something that is really a waste of time and energy, and I’ve gotten quite good at giving myself permission to not do it.

I quickly identified the task of keeping the bike squarely on the track as one of those unnecessary behaviors and I quickly decided it was something I was not willing to do.

I went back to checking out the cool features.

A minute or so later, Kyle reached over and turned my handlebars again in order to return my virtual bike to the center of the track. That’s when I realized that it really, really bugged him that I wasn’t keeping my bike on the center of the track. It bugged him so much that he was having a hard time not helping me steer.

That put a new spin on things, so to speak . . .

I realized that, in the not too distant past, I would have shifted my focus from checking out the features to keeping my bike centered on the track for a reason different from the first reason . . . because the man whose attention I had in the moment was indicating disapproval of my behavior . . . because I felt beholden to conform my behavior to whatever would gain his approval.

That’s when I realized that I was not at all concerned about his approval in this matter.

How interesting is that! I mean . . . he is a really neat guy . . . smart, really good looking, successful, charming . . . so . . . why was I not worried about his disapproval? It has become clear to me that many of the lovely ladies who hang out in the gym really want his approval and attention . . . why am I not driven to do whatever it takes to gain his approval?

Hmmmmmmm . . . very interesting!

I debated how to handle this . . . if it were simply a preference thing . . . for example, if he preferred that I contact him via phone rather than email . . . no problem, I’d be happy to oblige.

Or was this just a preference thing? I preferred to not steer the bike, he preferred I did steer it. I mean, it’s not like it would offend any moral code of mine if I steered the bike . . . should I do it if it makes him more comfortable? It seemed to me he was dealing with his own issues around a need for order . . . should I have compassion for him and do what I could to cause him to be more comfortable?

Then, I decided that, while it certainly was not a matter of morality, it was a matter of core values for me. I hired him to help me design a cardio program. This time is about me, not about him. Also, I have worked so hard to detach myself from my need to be so perfect in order to be loveable . . . if I did steer the bike, it would be taking backward steps, returning myself to an earlier way of thinking and behaving.

I decided I was not willing to steer the bike in order to appease his need for order. He would have to figure out a way to deal with his anxiety around that . . .

And then . . . I came up with a compromise that would not offend my core values . . . I made him an offer . . .

“You are welcome to steer the bike for me while I’m messing around with the screen . . . I can’t do both, but you could do the steering . . . it won’t bother me at all . . . “

He laughed . . . and declined . . . and said he would just stand on the far side of the screen so he wouldn’t have to look at it . . .

Anyway . . . as I was riding the “video” bike, I was pushing myself pretty hard and Kyle kept reminding me to back off . . . but, I was feeling really good . . . but, he was right . . . I shouldn’t overdo it, so I backed off . . . but, I was sweating like crazy . . . and Kyle commented that it was probably the first time I’ve sweated like that in this gym . . . yup, he was right! It was the first time I’ve felt free enough to go “there” in a very long time.

Anyway, in our last few minutes together, he took back into one of the yoga rooms and gave me some pointers on exercises like push-ups, sit-ups, pull-ups, etc. that I could do at home. He was very careful to demonstrate them for me and not ask me to do them . . . I’m really glad because I think I would have been very uncomfortable for me . . . sitting and lying on the floor when someone else is around feels very unsafe for me . . . even when I fully trust the other person . . . well, except for with Edward, I guess . . . but it took a long time before I felt safe to do that with him.

In order to show me the pull-ups, we had to go back out into the main room where other people were around us. He was using a low-to-the-ground pull-up bar that is designed to be used while the person is nearly prone on the ground . . . kind of like a reverse push-up.

I got a little freaked out thinking about doing that exercise with other people around . . . even though it was Kyle who was doing it and not me, just the thought of me doing it at a later time was freaking me out a bit. I started focusing on my breathing . . . telling myself that I’m just taking in information, not committing to using it . . . I’m not committing to doing this exercise, I’m just taking in information . . . no one is requiring me to do this particular exercise . . . it is my choice what to do with the information . . .

All of the sudden, Kyle said, “Okay, you’re getting that overwhelmed zoned out look on your face, so I think we need to stop for today . . . “

That pulled me out of my freak-out and I laughed . . . and thanked him for being aware and responsive to what was going on with me. I assured him that, while his assessment was accurate, I was actually doing okay with it. And yet, I told him, I was feeling a little overwhelmed and wouldn’t mind stopping anyway . . .

That’s when I noticed we had run 15 minutes over our allotted 60 minutes . . . I guess it was a good place and time to stop! I thanked him for spending the extra time with me . . . and thanked him for such a great first session . . . and told him I felt really great about our fit.

We wrapped it up . . . and I headed back to my studio to get cleaned up and dressed up for the talent show . . .