Let me preface this by saying I’m not completely crazy. Maybe a little, but not completely.
When I sat down to write this blog, I had only a persistent feeling and a vague idea of what I wanted to express. After spending the weekend practicing the Empty Chair technique during my life coaching training, I decided to experiment with dialogue.
That’s when I realized that there was far more below the surface than I imagined.
I don’t know no Inner Diva. You sure you have the right house?
I’m 100% certain I have the right house. Maybe you’ve forgotten me. It’s been 30 years since we last saw each other. We used to love hanging out together. Remember how much fun we had?
Oh….that Inner Diva. Yes, yes, I remember you now. It’s nice seeing you. But I’m too busy for a visit right now. Maybe we can catch up next time you’re in town.
Oh, I’m so sorry. I came a long way to see you. And, I am not sure when I’ll be back this way again.
It’s just that I’m so busy working right now, and when I finish, I just like to chill out. We did have a lot of fun tho. I always liked how adventurous you were. You were off-the-wall-kinda-of-crazy. But that’s kinda of the problem. I just can’t have you causing trouble and rocking the boat in my life right now.
Me? Trouble? Little ol’ me? Rock the boat? Oh, please let me in. Can we just talk about it? I really would love to hang out with you for a while.
Okay, just for a little while.
How it started.
A persistent nagging feeling started about a month ago. Out of the blue, I got an urge to blow the inch-high dust off the boxes containing my high school senior pictures and dared myself to look at them. Perhaps it was the so-slow-you-can-hardly-notice weight loss, the endless sun-filled days, or that simply, I’d been bitten by the nostalgia bug? I can’t be sure.
Something was definitely drawing me to my high school senior pictures taken 30 years ago next month. But, I also noticed something else…a resistance.
A little voice was saying: Do you really want to dig that shit up? Why? What are you going to get from doing that?
Making a decision.
Fortunately, I didn’t have to make an immediate decision, as the photographs were 100 miles away in a locked footlocker in the attic of our home. As the weeks went on, however, I noticed myself doing some ‘unexplained’ things. One day, I found myself backing out of the grocery store doorway and brazenly going into the trendy women’s clothing store next door—the one I’d been in twice in three years, on both occasions to get a new outfit for a job interview. Five minutes later I walked out with a flashy new white top. On a ‘good hair’ day, I caught myself taking a selfie or two, but instantly deleted them. There were other odd behaviors that I noticed as well—but too embarrassing to share lol!
My situation changed, when over the course of a few weeks, I had the opportunity to pass the footlocker. The first time I pretended it wasn’t there and rushed past it very quickly. The second time, I got to grips with it being there and made the decision not to open it. After three weeks of this strange behavior, on the last day we’d planned to be home, in the last hour before leaving, I finally caved in and opened the damn footlocker! I hurriedly took pictures with my iPhone of some of my favorite photographs.
It would take me a few more days to find the courage to really look at the photographs. Quietly in my bedroom, I pulled out my iPhone and studied the images. This 17 year old young woman looked vaguely like me, but in many ways, she was unrecognizable—being 30 years younger and 60 pounds lighter. Her hair was thicker, her limbs were long and sleek, and her stomach was nearly flat with a faint line going down the middle.
Thoughts raced through my head: How could anyone take off that many clothes in front of a camera? Crazy! Huh!
There were other things about her that I hadn’t remembered, noticed, or seen in these 30 years…
She was bold, daring, and adventurous. She knew what she wanted and went for it.
She worked her ass off—sometimes up to 50 hours a week as a housekeeper while in high school.
She played hard with few limits. The sky was an open escapade to enjoy, taste, and sip.
She loved deeply, taking care of her mother, when her mother could no longer take care of her.
She too knew the searing pain that left a mark on one’s soul. And, still she rose.
She lived fully on her terms.
Yes, I had forgotten her. Like the photograph, she was once greatly admired, then captured for her beauty, and eventually locked away. Never to be thought about again.
While I’d forgotten about her, she’d not forgotten me.
She waited patiently, for a breath of life, to be set free, to feel safe in the knowledge that she would not be turned away.
With the freshness of spring and a glow in her step, she knocked on my door.
Love, Marcie x