jaunakay

[jaunakay]

On Making Decisions

I’ve never been a pro/con list maker. Not because I don’t benefit from the structure, or because I can’t get my thoughts together long enough to put them on paper. It’s more because I’m a rebellious sort that balks at the tidiness of decisions made based one column of bullet points outweighing another. Decision making is more nuanced than that, and true to myself, my decision making process is equally as precise as a list, without being nearly as tidy.

Most of this year has been spent in flight. I made a choice to challenge myself professionally in January, and almost instantly that choice set off a spark that instantly turned into a full fledged conflagration. All year the fire has been far beyond the control of my best efforts, which is no small thing. I’ve known from the first month where this pusuit was going to end, so I’ve found myself chased to the edge of a precipice. Fire raging behind me. Foggy, seemingly bottomless abyss ahead. Phone calls are made to best friends, my mom, my mentor. I’ve taken comfort in verbalizing all of the emotions that have been swirling around in my head and knowing that these people can hear the sense between the blubbering jibberish. Evenly weighed discussions, not leading me in one direction or another have been equal parts insightful, and infuriating. But in the end the decision is made within myself. In a quiet moment, where there isn’t anything but peace. For me that moment came last night in a snowy road in the middle of the country. Pine trees, heavy with snow, bowed to wisdom that a perfect moment like that can harbor. And inside of myself I heard my voice speak clearly and without hesitation. And now I take a step into the nothingness, and wait to see if I’ll fly.

[jaunakay]

#Metoo

I don’t want to talk about my assault. The feelings I experienced in the aftermath have evolved. They never disappear, but they morph into something more manageable so you can keep living your life ever day. Nevertheless, I’ve been shaken by the news recently of men exploiting their positions to prey upon women. It’s taken me some time to formulate my reaction because I wanted to share something informative, that may help shine a light onto how situations like this happen. I don’t want to talk about my assault, I want to talk about what happened after. Many people question how these stories remained “secret” for so long. I’ve heard people question the veracity of the victims statements simply because of the amount of time that has passed before they were willing to come forward. I hope that sharing my experience of the aftermath of my assault will help those who haven’t lived through it empathize a little more, and hopefully stop judging the decisions of the women who stayed silent so long.

The immediate aftermath there was what we consider the “usual” response. Questions about how I was dressed, how much I had to drink, whether or not I was dancing to provocative were raised by friends and family. Let’s be clear, none of these things factor into an assailant’s decision. He would have put his hands on me if I had been wearing a coat, standing stock still, dead sober. Excuses were made for his behavior. The music was sexy... he was stinking drunk. These excuses were made for the purpose of protecting his character, and devaluing my experience. He would have assaulted me anyway, but that’s not something people wanted to believe. The events of that night caused quite a stir, my assailant was a close family friend who we had all come to trust and love. Our group was known in our small community. And suddenly that all changed. As word of the schism got around in the days immediately after, his wife reached out to me. I sat across a table in a dive bar from her, and detailed what had happened. She was collected, but stated that “there’s just no way”, “ he’s such a nice guy”, I must have misconstrued his behavior. I was asked to disappear. Told that accusations like mine would ruin him. Or worse, ruin me, since nobody in our circle would believe them. After she left, I was struck by how politely she had called me a liar. And so I did disappear. I vacated that circle, I stopped going to my childhood home. I lost pieces of myself that may not ever come back. Even today I’m still nervous to play the coquette, lest I be accused of bringing someone’s unwanted advances on myself again. Instead, I’m overly assertive and go out of my way to act in a way I hope is more intimidating than endearin with men. I distanced myself from the people I thought I hurt. Sitting here now though, scrolling through the hashtags, I’m not convinced that I did the right thing. In my heart I know that this man abused the trust of other girls just like me. I don’t know if my voice could have broken through the culture that continues to protect him to this day, but I wish that I had tried.

To all of my fellow survivors out there, I’d like to say, I know that today you are hurting. Stories like the ones we are hearing now rip the scabs off of our wounds. The aftershocks of your experience awaken as you relive one of the darkest moments of your life. No platitudes can take away your renewed fear, and pain. Telling you that you are not alone won’t make you feel any better, so I won’t. What I will say is, I am here for you. I will hear you. I will fight the nightmares with you. If we band together, we may be able to send our demons back to hell.

#metoo

[jaunakay]

#Metoo

I don’t want to talk about my assault. The feelings I experienced in the aftermath have evolved. They never disappear, but they morph into something more manageable so you can keep living your life ever day. Nevertheless, I’ve been shaken by the news recently of men exploiting their positions to prey upon women. It’s taken me some time to formulate my reaction because I wanted to share something informative, that may help shine a light onto how situations like this happen. I don’t want to talk about my assault, I want to talk about what happened after.

[jaunakay]

An Excerpt from a Letter to a Friend

I wrote this in a letter to a friend who needed encouragement recently.

"Something you don't know about me is that my favorite book of the Bible is Matthew. Contained in its verses is a passage called the "beatitudes", a passage I try and incorporate into my decisions and interactions every day. At the core of its meaning is the idea that what you put out into the universe will ultimately be returned to you in some way. This principal can be found throughout all different belief systems, and for that reason it resonates with me. Two verses come to mind when I think of you: Matthew 5:7- Blessed are they who are merciful, for they shall receive mercy". Remember, everyone has a story, a past, a weight they are carrying. All people bear scars from pain they have experienced. You may not always know what the burden someone carries is, or how that burden affects the decisions some people make. We serve a power who's purpose it is to judge a mans heart, and character. Our purpose is to forgive the flaws, and look past the scars to try and bring light where there may be darkness. Trust God to complete his purpose, serve him by completing your own. Matthew 5:9 Blessed are the peacemakers: for they will become the children of God. We have shared many conversations about our experiences with depression. I don't know what your road looks like as you try and navigate your life while dealing with this. I can tell you that I have largely escaped it myself by remembering the verse above. Everywhere you go, try and sow seeds of peace. Do this through the words you choose, the way you react when tried, and your interactions with people that may challenge you. Make it your mission to bring peace to troubled situations. It's so hard for people of action to feel like they are helpless in chaotic situations. You cannot control other people, you can't always control your circumstances. You can control how you respond to them. If you try and create peace through your response, you will feel more mindful, and calm. The noise will start to die down, and you will be able to hear God's voice calling you to who you are meant to be. "

[jaunakay]

I'm watching Ron load our bikes onto our truck. We will be taking them out for a ride in a little while. When I was little my mom would say "it's time to go", but my siblings and I knew that it would be another hour before we actually walked out the door. There was always some other task standing between us and pulling out of the driveway. It drove me crazy. Alas, Ron is possessed of the same minor flaw. My mom once said of Ron "he's a good man, he takes care of his stuff". Watching him put air in our bike tires, pack a backpack, and make sure we have an extra helmet (which I would surely have forgotten in my haste to leave immediately), I realize he's not delaying. In fact, in the way he best knows how, he's taking care of me. He's paying attention to the details that would almost certainly have escaped me just so I can better enjoy our outing. I'm sure he feels me watching him, he's actually blushing a little. But I can't help but be filled with pleasure at the sight of him fastidiously preparing for our departure. I'm not anxious, or annoyed. I'm pleased, and grateful for the blessing of a good man in my life.

[jaunakay]

F is for Forgiveness

I've been grappling with my mistakes. As a rule, I'm harder on myself than others (and "others" would say I'm pretty hard on them). I've lost several people in my life recently that I cared for deeply. They didn't move, or pass away, they just didn't want to know me anymore. It's left me doubting myself. Trying to understand what I've done that's so terrible that I could drive them away. I've dragged all of my flaws to surface and I live in them daily. I look in the mirror and recite them to myself in my head like I can somehow move on from them by constantly reminding myself of their presence inside me. I'm vain, and selfish, and bossy, and intractable, the list goes on and on. I want so much to be forgiven by them. To be given another chance to show them that I can learn. I can be better! The thing is, how can I ask them for forgiveness if I can't even forgive myself?

[jaunakay]

A Garden

I have a garden that I didn't grow. This garden brings me so much delight that words are hard to find. Leaves tinged around the edges with gold float above me. Natures kaleidoscope. Bathing loved ones in a soft flattering light. So different from the hot, harsh light of summer. Music washes over. Complimented by the sweetness of rum, or whiskey. Words long known, but seldom spoken. Notes and bars that lift my feet from the earth. Peace abounds in my garden. Birds, butterflies, and music come together to create nirvana. An escape from noise and sorrow for a day, or a moment.

[jaunakay]

Weights

Today I gathered up all of my mistakes. I sat down on ground, Indian style. I held each one in my hand. Felt it's weight on my heart. I've put them in a basket. To be carried over my arm. An uglier basket I've never seen. It's heavy, my ugly basket. Cumbersome. Overflowing with grief, and pain for wrongs that I can never undo. I've forgotten how to set it down. And fear I must now carry it with me forever.

[jaunakay]

I've never written a blog post, though I've thought about it for a long time. I would like to think that somewhere out there people care enough about what I think to read my thoughts on things like life, friendship, work, and love. It seems like so much more work for the consumer of my words though. It's a little voyeristic, isn't it? Like reading someone's diary. When it's done correctly, the words are true, and intimate, but not so much that they make you uncomfortable. Or maybe they do when they hit just the right note on your heart. Hopefully I can strike some notes. Even if I don't, I will be honest.