Public Service Announcement

So, in recovery, I get to practice not telling people about themselves, under any circumstance, with the exception of my children. This, I can not yet resist, even when I’d like to. Like, unless I am a person’s manager and trying to help them develop, there really is no wholesome reason to do so. In recovery, I also get to learn to NOT (participate in or enable) gossip, which means when someone upsets me, not only do I tell them, when to do so is constructive and necessary, I shall not seek comfort and alliance by detailing for others the wrongs I feel were committed. Avoiding gossip feels easier for me than resisiting urge to enlighten a person–LOL. There are times when I must discuss an upset in order to process it, I share with a trusted other, with the purpose and intent: to work through it and to find relief and acceptance. Acceptance, being, I accept that the thing happened and also that I am powereless over it and dont fucken like it.

So with my painful haircut situation, I am struggling. Like maybe I do not publicly post about his conduct, but share photos of my hair before he handled me, the picture of what I requested, which he agreed to, and the photos of his results. I feel I owe it to women in my area. It is both the most and the least I can do.

I share here about hurtful schemes and maneuvers by my sister and the father of my boys, mostly about my sibling for reasons similar to why I will in fact post my experience with this local stylist. I’d bet money that since I began sharing about her unwholesome affiliation with my sons’ father, that she has begun treating each of her sister in laws and her one niece better (less alienating) than she had for the previous two decades, like being watchful of her step– As well as my aunt and any one with whom she works. I still cringe as i think of her glee-filled story about a woman named Allison whom she enjoyed shunning and reducing and then shrieked with laughter when Allison crashed her car into an ambulance on her last day of work.

Surely, it would feel less comfortable and safe to attempt, in any way to systematically diminish, undermine and shit-talk people(who frustrate her), as she has before…I know the details —only because of her smug sharing of them, with me, as either recreational(for her) gossip or as an intended warning shot to me. Either way, while I was unable to spare myself or my children, others may now benefit a reduced probability of similar underhanded mis-treatment by her. There are likely better ways to do this, but for now, it is the best I can do. Creating a detailed account of my experience of her behaviors is a public service.

I can’t undo or unknow the damage(to more than just my hair) by the stylist, I will do my part to prevent a similar upset for someone else. At first, I felt fearful and ashamed. Like awwww—poor Maggie—the common variable in all of her own pain. Because that is what abusers groom you and others to believe. It is factual that abused people frequently continue to show up for and stay for abuse. It is not a coincidence. Equally true– Even if I were a giant piece of shit, I do not cause or earn or deserve abuse. There is one thing that makes a person abuse… ***that they are an abuser. Only an abusive person would disagree. Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney

And to clarify, before recovery, I too practiced abusive behaviors–exactly as I had learned, fully believing that if a person was upsetting or displeasing enough, that they earned and deservedcaused me to do or say the harmful things. Like I 100 percent was confident that: My harmful actions were brought on only BY THEM. They were responsible!

It is what I knew. I have not chosen to do or say abusive things for 13 years– since learning to do better…not deliberately, anyway. I have surely reacted in harmful ways and promptly made necessary amends. Reactions are hard to manage. Fortuantely, I have a spritual practice which teaches and allows me to amend and move on. My decision to recover from and object to the ways of my sister was a highly unpopular one. Which is fine, as I am not one to hustle for preference or popularity.

Shame and Guilt and Fear

Shame and Guilt and Fear for openly wanting or needing more or different from what is being provided…. It never ends. I waited days to share with Favorite, the details my haircut/abuse because it seems too outrageous, not believable. As with all of my family heartache and struggle, I was always reported to have imagined, exaggerated or caused it.

So I forwarded my post to Favorite because I need her to always know everything, particulalry the more horrifying and painful parts of my life, which beg for me to get small and feel ashamed.

Her immediate response was that she was sorry and the insistence that I blow him up on Yelp and FB and all social media with details of his conduct. I believe photos of my hair alone would damage him. Literally, my son could have done a better job, with his non-dominant hand. I will post nothing for fear of blowback. I saw a few months ago, that Baylor(the stylist) had “liked” me on match.com and wonder now, if he behaved in those ways and fucked up my hair to punish me, put me in my place. After all, who tf do I think I am? Right?

I am feeling very tormented over not only the way I now look, but also, that I still have not managed to recover the parts of myself which would allow me to feel sure that I am safe and worthy and deserve better. I am so tired of the punishers and will never stop feeling crushed by almost my entire family ghosting me for reasons I may never know (definitely to put me in my place((out)) and to show me my worth((lessness))). That is what this brought up for me. Today is a hard day. I think they would be pleased, smiling amongst themselves, nodding in agreement, “serves her right”. Fuck that and them.

Perspectives

Schema, perspective, experience, understanding…shit.  WOW.

My younger son and I differ in so many beautiful ways, and also some difficult ones. Either way, he is a great teacher and reminder for me. When I broke up with Greg, he asked why I was ever even with Greg.  Not because he doubted the goodness of Greg but because he saw how unlikely we were. 

In the months leading up to the end of the relationship, I was meeting with a therapist several times a week and had begun working out daily at the gym which helped to shift my perspective.  I had come to understand that I chose to marry the person I did because of how familiar the dynamic was. There was not connection, only familiarity, which was toxic and literally devastating, particularly once we had children– who would be affected and shaped by US.  

Then, I chose Greg, because he was wholly unfamiliar in that I 100% knew he would not take from, lie to, punish, or betray me, ever.  And I hated myself daily for not feeling entirely satisfied by this —as my old programming insisted that only an ungrateful piece of shit/defect would want or expect to have more.  

Fortunately, I have a skillful and wise therapist who helped me to understand that I am allowed to want more than just kindness, trust, and honesty…that those are essentials yes.  And also— I am allowed to want and pursue connection in the forms of shared curiosity, spiritual seeking, political and social alignment, intellectual endeavors, a love of the beach and books — not that I should seek someone identical but similar in some of these ways. Greg and I healed together in our seven years and STILL we both needed and deserved more than we could provide each other.  

So, this week, I went for a haircut by a stylist who I now percieve as unwell. In my first 7 minutes in the chair,  my hair was completely fucked up.  The stylist whom we will call Baylor, repeatedly aggressively jerked my head and neck and told me to “fucking hold still”, raged about his ex wife being a “fucking cunt”, shared about his porn addiction, was sporting a nicotine patch, popped two Nicorette gums, took a pill, and vaped.   When I asked him to be a little more gentle, he said he would be “if I would quit moving my goddamn head”.  Then I asked, “but isn’t the customer always right?”, he said, “not when customer has a vagina like my fucking cunt ex wife”.  to which I replied, “yeh but when she is paying you 80$ for your services shouldn’t you be nice?”. To which he replied, “if we are not dating and she is not putting out or paying my bills, no $80 is for haircut only”.  

He went on, in great detail, about how he had visited a Swingers Club. And that he he keeps viagra on hand because sometimes his bipolar meds “fuck with his dick”.  But even the viagra didn’t help him “to cum as the fat chick at the club blew him”.  

All of this as he takes my precision bob hair cut which only needed a tune up – and shreds it to destruction.  So after wrecking my hair and the soul raping, he demanded a hug before letting me out the door—literally got between the door and me.  It was brutal and also a familiar dynamic with a person who sees them selves not as above the law, but actually AS THE LAW….And now I will likely get to pay a few hundred dollars to an uber pro stylist to fix me with a great pixie, which seems the only option.  I became immediately unwelll once home and still have not yet recovered. My already dysregulated nervous system and body literally broke down under the strain of that.

After hearing only a fraction of the madness, my son asked “why did you not just leave?”   Because this man had previously done a good job on my hair a year ago, I thought he would again.  And apparently I still feel that in order for me to have anything I want, it must be both painful and costly.  Sadly—It never even occurred to me to leave.  I guess the growth here is that I did calmly articulate my desire to have him be more gentle.  I said it out loud and without volume or profanity, and then when he did not, I paid him in full, overtipped, allowed him to hug me for far too long before leaving with 100$ less and my hair in shambles.

I have cried over how my hair looks, even more so for how far I have come in my healing journey and how far I have still before me–but also for having children who recognize their boundaries, rights, and worthiness. That is a miracle. I will continue learning, healing, and sharing— one day at a time.

Roles and Scripts

I am realizing why roles and scripts are of increasing interest to me, as I learn to wean myself from a recurring dynamic.  I can now identify powerful, lifeshaping roles of those whom I experienced as most damaging for me:  my grandmother, mother, uncle, sister and the person I married.  And….. a person I sometimes work with.  With each of these people, I have perceived ongoing efforts by them to exercise an unwholesome “authority”, not leadership or guidance but something other.  Frequently they pulse with the vibe:  Who tf do you think you are?  And then go to great lengths to try to show me and others “my value”.

Here is the thing.  I dont think I am anybody, but I also do not think I am less than or unworthy of dignity.  Any person attempting to diminish me or condescend to me or gain submission from me, will become frustrated.  AND. That is on them. No matter what is or is not true about me, their conduct and treatment of me—is ON THEM. I abstain. Hard Pass. Full-body(and soul) NO.

Because I lack engagement in hustle culture, I effortlessly agitate those scrambling for status and recognition….It is as if my lack of concern for how they are “showing”, causes them to regard me as opposition.  I am not opposing anything except participating in my own degradation. It is incomprehensible to me when a grown ass adult needs to feel that if I do a great job, it is FOR them.  And if I struggle or fuck a thing up, it is AT or about them.   

A person’s feelings about me or themselves has nothing to do with what I need to do.  This does not mean I dgaf —simply that I am not driven to curate people’s feelings about me, themselves, or others.  I think that type of effort/conduct has been identified as manipulation…Unwholesome

I lack the need for glorifying or defending myself because my (recovery) principles (which guide and serve well personally and professionally) consistently speak for themselves, to who I am—-Because I am what I do.  This has been triggering for narcissistic types, eliciting in them, a need to retaliate and smear— in passive aggressive ways- frustrated that my performance and worth and motivation have nothing at all to do with them.

Also, my unrelenting need for clarity and transparency seems to signal danger to NPD types, because—- bullshit gets exposed, not out of malicious effort, just that I make no effort to cover- for myself—-or for most others. 

Anyway—Regarding scripts and roles and new dynamics, my need to explore new and consensual and mutually beneficial roles, makes perfect sense.  I no longer consent to the role of someone who matters less. I can accept that many times, I have less power but never less value. Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney

That is a type of bondage, I reject. I will surrender the urge combat it or illuminate it, as I know how that goes. If someone with ego issues needs to be right and in charge, at all costs, and has me in their crosshairs, and may only find satisfaction and strength in gaining submission of or eliminating me, so be it. Been there. Done that. Recovery teaches me to detach and let things be what they are without my active engagement. Folks gonna do and be exactly as they are. Abusers abuse. Period.

New Dynamics

Exploring dating/intimacy/relationships has been instrumental for me learning to know and understand myself. I am currently in “negotiations” for a power differential (the dynamic has a name, well defined rules, and terms) diametrically opposed to what I have known- in which one person feels entitled to literally disassemble another. Here, we will negotiate for a mutally pleasing and beneficial arrangement. Establishing boundaries and trust—the polar opposite of what I was raised to believe and participate in.

In my family and marriage, there was an expectation of my submission to a person by whom I was not asked to nor did I agree to submit—-EVER. There was unwholesome authority without accountability. What remained consistent and undeniable was overt disregard for me; an actual human with needs, fears, feelings, and desires–which mattered. It was merciless and devastating. And Faithless- I had no faith in the people who dedicated themselves to being in charge of (but not responsible for the wellness of) me. There was no limit to how far a person would go to validate or satisfy their need for control and reverence. The only thing being protected was one person’s sense of import and rightness. Right and in charge at all costs! What a horrifying mess. They think I am the mess. When actually– I am proof of the mess.

I have sought and chosen a role of submissive– with rules (and consequences) I understand and agree to– with a man with whom there is a shared trust and desire/need. Our roles will compliment each other. Neither of us mattering more or less.

He will not use his position to degrade or exploit me—in fact the opposite. My pleasure and satisfaction are at the top of his list of things that matter. Consensual power exchange makes sense and feels good….safe, actually. To intentionally agree to submission to something/someone who/which values and satisfies me. This, for me, is healing (like a therapy), progress, and wildly exciting. It IS wholesome and badass, hitting all of the marks. The requirements are consent, communication, consideration, and caution. If only parental and family all relationships required and welcomed this.

My role in family and marriage was pathetic and degrading, soul-crushing and rapey. I had no (sane and informed) voice (which mattered or counted) and so without knowing better ways, I resorted to raging volume, cutting words, and profanity. That never delivered one-good-thing. I am now super excited and awake. I may fuck this up or it may just not work out. And I am ok with that. You wont know if you dont go. Or Fuck Around and Find Out. I am all about Finding Out and then relentlessly detailed sharing of the difficult, the scary, the awkward, and amazing parts of my learning. Jilan Catherine Ghoneim Whitney

Like a Moth to a Flame

Ok,  so from the very beginning with Stu, the widow, I was enamored by his ability to say what I needed to hear in the language I crave.  He exercised the language of recovery and also the conduct of an unrecovered addict.  And– like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to each of these things.  

His patterns of behavior consistently were in conflict with his words.  Rather than doubting him, I doubted my sanity and ability to percieve. I was soothed by the words, so I overrode my gnawing instinct, dismissing it as my ptsd, because– I preferred his words — to being right. I wanted to be wrong. Badly.

Well, I did grow from and enjoy our situationship.  But– what have I learned? Today,  I am feeling deeply agitated that I still can not make people, places, or things be different from how they are.  I hate having to accept what I do not want and like.  HATE IT. 

The widow part of his story was a gift to me – a powerful and much needed reminder: “I do not know”.  So, while it is true that I cannot assume motives for anyone’s behavior.  I understand that repeated patterns do not lie, while words do.  I am a sucker for the language of recovery.

Fun Fact:  The two men I am currently getting to know (and using to dull the pain) share the names of my previous long term relationship people.  OY! What I am observing in one of them is that the protector provider instinct is high for him…so that will be NEW and delightful! And I will note how that feels like a thing I would sure like to experience.

Big Triggers

Ok,  I have resumed journalling, rigorously, of course, because I either do things with rigor or not at all.  sooo—With this man, who is widowed, from the love of his life, I am able to behave a little differently, then I would, say, with a regular single person.  Because certain assumptions cannot be made about his behaviors or agendas.  Even though with regular people, I should also not assume to know what is behind their words and actions, I do.  But I 100% am lacking in personal experience with people who have known his kind of love and loss.  So, rather than immediately reacting (to or at him) I am now able to pause. 

I head straight to my journal where I(feverishly-as I do all things) record my perception of what he has or has not said or done which is affecting me.  And there, on the paper, with my pencil, I write down the story I am telling myself about that behavior.  Then, I write out what I would say to him, if the story were true. I zero in on what specifically I am having a reaction to and how I am feeling –which illuminates for me, what I need and fear and why exactly I feel the thing—-and I am seeing over and over that ptsd can pose as intuition and vice versa… Like— Am I reacting to a thing that actually transpired OR a thing which reminds(triggers/flashbacks) me of past trauma(betrayal/abandonment)?

I shall refer to him as Stu.  So, not only does Stu differ in remarkable ways previously mentioned- which precludes me from automatically  applying my assumptions, but his standard response to feeling challenged or confused is wildly different and gorgeous- like stunning. 

I have known and chosen few if any genuinely humble and courageous ( -seems as if these two qualities go together) self reflective people.  Things which no person with whom I have been in family or optional relations has ever recognized or admitted about themselves, but he HAS:

“I don’t know what I am doing.  I can be a difficult and confusing person.” Stu reports these things with unknowingly brilliant awareness.  I am hopeful that, for as long as our paths may be crossed, we will contribute meaningfully to the other’s healing.  

Nothing like a new relationship to remind us of our wounds and all the work needed to repair and grow.  Stu is for sure a good journeyman, not afraid and not too proud and more than willing.  It is agreed, that whatever we are doing- is a one day at a time thing.  

Honest(Emotionally honest not just saying words reflecting a level of factual accuracy).  Open.  Willing. –We each show up in these ways.  I am crying much of the time(not unusual for me).  I cry because feelings in general get too big for me and are released through my tears, not only for sadness, but also delight, appreciation, frustration, excitement, fear….   I am quickly and easily overwhelmed by most emotions and sensations.  This results from both my wiring(nature) and my trauma(nurture).  My wiring meaning my nervous system and brain chemistry leave me especially porous and everything gets in(in high def)…my trauma referring to how I have been previously regarded in times of overwhelm (handled like a poopy diaper filled with venomous snakes) for being a constant feeler of big, deep, dificult to process feelings….or as it has been labelled–dramatic, pain in the ass, thin-skinned, crazy, delusional.

In my family of origin, it seems insensitivity is of the highest value and is also confused for strength. And sensitivity recognized as weakness, if not selfishness, managed (by the powers that be) with alienation, mockery, shaming and smearing. I literally am thanking god for a growing, more wholesome understanding of and respect for sensitivity, courage, compassion, selfcare…and an even greater awareness of what it means to be near those who judge and mask sensitivity and wear THAT like a badge of honor and superiority. The ranking of members in my FOO is glaring- plain for any one to see– with levels of observable sensitivity having designated the value and place each person holds.

Trolling for Love on Match.com

So, here I am “dating” again….  And I feel as if it’s almost something to be admitted only in a whisper, to close friends, and with an apology.  For the past three weeks, I have been avoiding journaling, contact with my therapist and my sponsor — and am not entirely sure why.  I need practice with my recovery in real time relationships and connections.  While also wondering: should I spend some time alone?  But no, I should not.  Technically, my entire life- I feel I have been alone, on my own, seperate– even and especially while in relationships, because I had been so cut off from myself. I crave and require a lot of practice with the behaviors of healthy relating and self love. This way of being is rigorously challenging for me (and also probably my friends–as I am incessantly checking in with them to see what is good, right, true, and fair before saying the uncomfortable but seemingly necessary thing I feel called to say). Catherine Ghoneim Whitney Charlotte NC Impact Design

SO- I have been enjoying getting to know a(nother) man.  I literally get high from our interactions, not just moments of physicality, but also relationally-in our convos and texts- our exchanges.  He is hysterically fun and funny, curious and engaging – consistently unafraid of not knowing a thing, not understanding, not being right, expert, or in charge.  In this way, he differs from most people I have known.  He readily says things like: I don’t understand or what do you mean by that, with earnest curiosity and hunger to know more and go deeper…not that fucked up passive aggressive “well, I don’t understand or I am confused because I thought you said that…” intended as a challenge and an invitation to explain myself in a defensive and proving type way- typically resulting in a condemnation of me– for being defensive.

He readily apologized for his contribution to a misunderstanding we had.  This is intoxicating, to me  – inquiries rooted in genuine curiosity, courage, and humility- a desire to get closer— I have little to no experience with that, in my historical relationships(not counting Sweet Greg).  I have no idea what this could be or where or how long it will go, but he is a person I must keep knowing.  We have much to learn together.  The quality and frequency of our laughter is matched by a growing number of inside jokes and language, which is a goddamm treasure.  In my marriage, there were maybe two inside jokes, because there was no “inside”.  

I would not label what he and I are doing as “love” in the traditional or Miriam Webster kind of way. But it feels important (in my recovery journey). I am seizing opportunities to exercise a more wholesome brand of love than I had learned and practiced in my first fifty years.

In my developing understanding of the type of love I want to offer and recieve: Love wouldn’t drain me (the majority of the time). It should never make me doubt my worth or standing or place in the relationship. It should NEVER make me feel unsafe, fearful, or insecure. It should not activate my survival instincts. It SHOULD make me feel calm, connected, safe, energized, welcome, valued, needed, wanted.

I am as hungry as I am grateful, for the continued opportunities presented in dating:

-to settle or not settle

-to set boundaries or not set boundaries

-to accept mixed messages or not accept mixed messages

-to speak up or not speak up

-to ask for what I need or accept less than I need

-to stay or to say goodbye

I rarely feel “pride”, but I am incredibly proud of how I am handling myself, my needs, my truths, my heart, my wellness, my recovery, in my dating experiences.  I am a work in progress, and each realtionship – no matter how long or brief – is helping me to grow into the human I was always supposed to be. I do believe 100% that nothing is wasted in God’s economy.

Good, better, and not enough

Last week, Ed, my friend from the mountains, visited for our week together and we had such a nice time doing the most basic shit. Yardwork, making food, checking out a farm store, grabbing lunch at cool cafe, watching almost no TV, walking, bathing, and caring for the dogs. Our four dogs are glorious and motley crew – endless sources of laughter and distraction. When Ed and I are together, we enjoy conversations (about only what is right in front of us). I have finally been able to articulate and acknowledge this thing that is missing though. Expansive conversation involving reflection and contemplation. He lacks interest and availability to engage that way. And I will not again, knowingly choose to go without that. We enjoyed six loving , 86% amazing months, and we have now ended it. I absolutely wished it could have developed into more. It was what I needed, until it was clear it wasn’t entirely.

Interesting(to me) to now realize, how in previous relationships, I have always felt haunted by a nagging concern in the very back of my mind, either– that it would last forever or–that it would not. I did not once experience any version of that with Ed. I still have a lot of trauma triggers for feeling abandoned(which I am working on), and am now willing and possibly able to no longer choose to abandon myself in order to sustain “connection” with another.

Below is a list of my must haves (from which I must not stray):

-easy expansive conversation -willingness to show up fully and stay for difficult conversations- humility and courage in the form of laughing easily at ourselves and generously apologizing when we have caused upset, whether knowingly or otherwise- curiosity- expansive thinking and conversation- emotional availability and rigorous honesty- accountability- chemistry (combustible in the bedroom), easy laughter- high and mutual regard for each other’s peace, comfort, joy, satisfaction.

Relax- Calm Down

After my friend in the mountains directed me, in a moment of distress, to “relax”, I was able to calmly request the following without any blowback or negative consequences:

“Hey, next time you think of suggesting I take a breath and relax, will you please consider instead saying”: “what do you need or what can I do to make it better?” And he gladly does!!! What a miracle. Asking for what I need from the right people is another fruit of my recovery. And also recognizing that if he would have objected or defended his need to say that, that would have registered as my cue to move on. He continually reminds me in a loving, amazing soulful eye contacty way: “Just ask me directly if you need something, and if I can, I will give it to you.”

Favorite has been known to say to me in times of duress “It is not the end of the world” and I was able to let her know that upsets me- because to me, it feels dismissive and degrading. And she stopped saying that—to me! This is LOVE!!! The kind of love I need, crave, deserve, and intend to give. Where people can count on feeling heard, seen, welcome, safe, valued. Everyone gets to choose what matters to them. 🥰 Right? Like if you need/ prefer/ choose to keep saying and doing the dismissive things, so be it- but I gotta roll.

Showing deep care and regard for a person calls us to want to know: how to NOT make things feel harder, lonelier, worse, even when there is nothing we can do to make them better.