Don’t Look at Me Now.

What if you can see all of me? You will see all of that I want to desperately to forget. But I can’t. It’s there just waiting to be looked at. It weakens me and makes my face red when I receive attention from people I don’t know well enough to predict. Unpredictable people scare me. I can’t know if they will humiliate or ridicule me. This is true. I am so deeply ashamed of myself. I have even received a mirror person in my life, with almost the same amount of shame attached to them, to really highlight this. Massive ‘look here!’ sign in a form of  a colleague.

What has my shame made of? There is so much subconscious, I can’t even tell what it is. Sure there is time when my mum called me in from playing outdoors when I was six. I had soiled my underpants earlier that day and tried to hide them in the laundry basket only for mum to see and my sister to ridicule me of. But sometimes six year olds shit their pants, right? But I was so, so very ashamed with me. I still keep it with me. There is also that time when I was four and my dad told me that I smelled like pee when he lifted me up on his shoulders.  But sometimes four year olds pee their pants, right? Why not forgive myself for being a child and not knowing how to do everything. After this I suffered from urinary infections for many years. i was carried around from doctor to doctor to sort out my peeing problem. After that subsided, I got the crown jewel of shame diseases – psoriasis. It screams, look at me!!!

I’m a classic dad issues woman. Daddyyyy didn’t pay attentiooooon…. and so on. He was not much interested and if he was it was pretty negative. And the other thing he liked to do with me was to take silly photographs of me pulling faces. So as I was a young budding woman, I got my attention using my body. I was pretty good looking young lady, so it wans’t particularly difficult to get boys into bed. In fact I had a lot of them on one year only. I got drunk on weekend after weekend and had sex. The boys treated me like a cheap slut and I couldn’t understand why. My group of friends started to become sparse. I had gone from the quiet sporty college girl with good grades into a slut whore, who couldn’t possibly be successful. I learned that my sexuality was disgusting. I cried to my mum how my friends have started to reject me and she responded by stop sleeping with so many guys. My sexuality had become the most shameful thing about me. I went into college day by day hiding myself more and more. And to zero my head, I would get drunk and sleep with more guys. Also my sister was doing exactly the same. But she had better friends who didn’t dump her because of that. I felt that nobody in the world wanted me around them. And seriously, I don’t think anyone did. There was nobody around.

I have become so single minded about my focus on spiritual awakening that my thought uttered out loud to someone who isn’t going through the same feel full of weirdness. I want to be speaking my truth and that only. But I am worried about some imaginary consequences that isn’t really even clear to me. I guess it’s being laughed at. Or when I’m joking, not being laughed with. I worry about the silence I create around me and how uncomfortable it makes people feel. That’s why I generate bullshit just to keep the noise going. Just so that we don’t see the pain we are really in. And at the same time I’m raving on about honesty and truth. Holy contradiction Batman! Want more daddy issues…here they come. I wasn’t allowed to speak to my dad when I was a kid. . Unless I was being entertaining him somehow. Ok. That’s it. Doesn’t sound too traumatic, now does it. But still I am here thinking that what I say to someone can be only valuable if I’m entertaining or giving some wisdom nuggets. Otherwise I feel like a kid in the adults world wondering what the hell are they all on about.

So holy, beloved shame. Show yourself in your entirety and I promise I will listen to you and you can be finally in peace. Thank you, thank you, thank you.



Woman A


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