IMPERFECT Lady

Back When I was 7

"You prepared to see you mother at the wedding?" my husband says to me tonight.  "She's not coming," I say....confidently.  He says, "SHE'S coming, so you better be prepared."  

I am to prepare myself for this?  How exactly am I to do this.  Prepare what?  What things to do I have to ready for this event?

Is the all knowing, all loving Universe really going to combine these two events; my daughter's wedding day and a unwanted meeting with my mother?

These two items don't match.

For one event, I have prepared, I have done the errands, sewn, hot glued, shopped, ordered....been preparing...to set the stage for her wedding vows...a love party.

The second encounter would have none of that.

I would have not prepared for the unwanted reunion...nor would it look like a love party.

Again, how do you prepare for it?

It angers me even that I HAVE to PREPARE.  Like 'brace yourself'....

I feel like the second event is to plant a mine field among the honest efforts to ensure a happy day.  It is like a mad demonic comedy...swirled into the wedding flowers.

Prepare yourself....

For what?

For the all the dysfunctional personalities?

For the 'surprises' that these dysfunctional folk bring?

How do you prepare?

It feels like this is asking way too much.

You know, some say that last night, speaking up in public about sexual abuse and displaying my Therapy Quilts....takes courage and strength etc.

But to me, that is child's play compared to being in the same space with the woman who can't see me.

How easy to be with those who can see you.

How incredibly tough to be put back into her presence...to not be seen.  Or more accurately for my wounds to be ignored....again.

Rage...rumbles around...like a child in the throes of a temper tantrum....that surely when you didn't have the time or space or effort when I was in the pits of hell....to see me....that you would now want to pop back into my world.

Why now?

Why when the drama, trauma, bleeding, pain, tears, terror, anger, rage, injustice, betrayal, feelings of such huge magnitude, that I thought I would literally go insane...you were NOWHERE TO BE FOUND, and now you want to arrogantly strut in?

Now?

Really?

Now you will enter INTO my life?

Better be prepared, your mother is coming.

What in the hell do I prepare?

Welcoming Arms will not be raised.

Warming feelings will not rise.

Eager heart not racing to reunite.

Instead the opposite is within me.

Arms raised, palms up in a stopping motion....

I don't have feelings for her....emptiness is there.

Pulse racing in anxiety...knowing I don't want to be near her.

Prepare.

What?

The juxtaposition that will be inside of one body on that day overwhelms me.

"It is your daughter's day" echoes from many voices....Prepare yourself.

I feel like I have to arm myself for war...and dress like the mother of the bride.

The clashing of these worlds overwhelm me....and leave me weak.

"Your strong," they say.

"I am not strong enough"....I sigh.

"You are the one showing them how it's done..."

"I don't know how to prepare"...

Guess I have never been prepared...never given the rule books, the "this is how it is done" section on the mixing of the ghosts of my past with the loves of my present...to take down the barriers and let them all mix AND stay standing in grace.

How do I prepare....to let all that I have stood against come flowing back into my world?  

I looked up the word Prepare.

"To make ready - for use or consideration."

Guess what it feels like I am suppose to prepare to be a daughter, a sister  Or to use a mother.

I have no use for a mother like her. 

And, I feel like they are making me use her.  Making me have a mother.  Making me engage in even a cursory fashion...to 'consider' even the possibility of using a mother.

I have no use.

How do you prepare for something you are not going to use?

It just seems that the Universe is being unusually harsh about this....to reserrect her now on my daughter's wedding day.  

The joining of two lives in love and the public display of a mother and daughter's shattered relationship...the hollow sound of nothing for almost 9 years...echoing among the sighs of love.

One whole and one broken.

Why?

Why am I to publicly keep walking among the broken pieces. 

Prepare for love with the wedding and prepare for no love with estrangement.

How?

No one tells the mother of the bride "Prepare yourself".

And yet on my daughter's wedding day...the mother of the bride will do her usual party prep....hair, outfit..and then I will have to steel my insides for the encounter of the accomplice to my childhood abuse.  Really.

How will that look?  

How do I sit there smiling in pleasure in a party dress with the steel battle ready insides...ready to face evil?

You know, that very image is exactly how I had to look back when I was 7.

 

Beyond Fabric!

I am not sure what I expected the Meet the Artist event to be like, but it was way cool....very nicely set up, flowers, cake and refreshments....with wonderful people milling about....surrounded by my quilts.  

Yet it wasn't about me....really or the Art specifically....or the journey of recovery....but about us all.  Each one brought something that made the night perfect.

I truly do love that many love and get my ladies and the message that seems to pour out of the seams....the way she speaks the language of the viewer...touching cords deep down within.

I saw old friends and surprise friends....and new ones yet to be.  I felt again the helpful caring nature of those who work for Copper Country Mental Health.  

I had a wonderful young lady sing me a song.  Yes, that's right...she sang for me.  It was a beautiful song about the Spirit in the Wind...the Spirit in the Earth and the magic, I believe, of the moon....and the Fire Within!  She will be sending me the right words...she said she viewed my ladies by the water....in nature and was inspired to sing to me.  

I feel that this is a debut for My lady....for there was talk about her going on the road.  And, she travels well....like a carpet roll!  How cool will that be.  To see where she goes and who she meets and the connections she will make....

Oh, and the local paper was there.  I do believe the reporter was quite taken with My Lady and the way she introduced herself to me....by secretly coming out in my Art. So, he said he was going to submit it to the paper for tomorrow....we will see.

It seemed the like the right and perfect place for her to be....gracing the walls of the place where so many go to seek the answers...and to even inspire those who are working with folks like me.

We all were in awe....My Lady and I....a journey that will go beyond fabric!

Again, thanks to Joe, Shelly and the rest of the staff...for making the perfect "Meet the Artist" event and for the wonderful folk who came to meet My Lady and I.....

The Woman Who Sewed.

"The conflict between what one is and who one is expected to be touches all of us. And sometimes, rather than reach for what one could be, we choose the comfort of the failed role, preferring to be the victim of circumstance, the person who didn't have a chance."  Merle Shain

I have learned in the past 8, almost 9 years, that I can no longer live my life as others expect, but have no choice anymore but to live as I am.

 I can't pretend to pretend, that I will even endeavor to be what you expect me to be....what you would prefer me to be...I will never even try to please you, before I please me.  Not ever.

I use to live in the comfort of the failed role that was not me...and so many were at peace...while I lived a life of quiet resentment.  

I resented you for expecting anything from me.

I put the rage/anger/resentment on you.

When, the truth was, I didn't know who I was or how to be me AND do this without failing your expectations of Me.

It was the most exhilarating and completely terrifying journey....to disappoint you and please me.  I lost all who expected a different me...and, there are some who still mourn for the old me.  She is dead...

Who stands in her place is me...the me I recovered or uncovered. The me who is completely known to me...but may be unfamiliar to you.

Imagine, I lived for 46 years as someone who failed at being herself.

I lived for your peace.

I lived for your love.

I lived for your joy.

I was going to write, I didn't know what brought me peace, love and joy.....and perhaps I didn't.  But, I did know, that IF I began to question or stop serving others, there would be moments of discomfort...

I guess I did know, deep down what I truly wanted...but was too afraid to do it.  To just say what I needed to say and do what I needed to do...for I knew that so many relationships were based up the expectations of others...and had very little to do about individual needs.

I am sure the crux of dysfunctional families is that we all live to serve the parents. No matter who they are and what they've done. We are taught to live under their expectations.

Daring to live, thrive and flourish outside of what they had expected is so freeing and can often seem like rebellion...

When all it is is to be living the role of Me.

It will be Me who walks among my Art Therapy....quilts.  The ones who represent how the world was so large and me so small, the inner self esteem almost non-existent.  

It is a surreal moment to be the Lady....speaking of the "Lady"....knowing it is Me and Me.  

As I pondered the "Meet the Artist"....I see it as meeting the Divine or the Universe or something other than me. For often I was unaware I what I was creating as I was creating it.

It is like I too want to meet the artist to see the source of these quilts...

I will go tonight, feeling less like an artist, but more like a Fan...knowing this is not of my doing...but that I am the woman who sewed.

"Lady" quilts on display at Copper Country Mental Health - Houghton, MI

 

The Imperfect Artist!

When I was asked to do a "Meet the Artist" at Copper Country Mental Health, I eagerly said yes...and then I thought....great, I get my Haircut the same week, a few days before....a fresh haircut always makes any outfit look better.  And, I even have an outfit....all set, Oh and even had my eyebrows done....I was way ahead, prepared and in good shape, until my tooth broke.  Yep, I will do the artist meet and greet minus a tooth.  I laughed out loud.

It isn't in the front, but on the side in the lower left of my mouth, but it will be easily seen when I am talking....or so I believe.

What I am accepting is that each time I aspire to reach this pulled together look, the Universe arranges me to be imperfectly imperfect.  With no effort at all, I left standing a bit disheveled....although, hey, I will have awesome hair and nice eyebrows and a new outfit!

Knowing that I have this 'defect' in my mouth will be something that will bring a smile as I move around.  I just love how I no longer have to reach for this un-reachable place of being fully put together....now, like dinging a new car, I can relax and just be....the damage is done, no more perfection to maintain or worry about.

So yes, come and meet the Imperfect Artist!

(Copper Country Mental Health....across from Econo Foods in Houghton...from 4 to 6pm!)

Who Believes in Me.

The kick I had in my gut, I at first named it fear....and then, I thought maybe it was guilt...but today, after letting this sensation ride along for a few days, it felt more right calling it the feelings of Not Being Believed.

To have oodles of writings, musings and prose excavated from my soul, only to have it doubted or disregarded...to be challenged or simply not believed.

I more than likely will not have face to face confrontations, but rather be silently ignored.

The fear of not being believed feels right to me, that my outspokenness will not be heard.  That life will continue on and my voice muted...echoes of my childhood.

Will my ladies bring enough attention?  Is it hard to disregard when Art is carrying my words?  

While the general public and perhaps other victims gaze upon my Art, I wonder what the Believers (FALC Members and other similar churches)will see?  Will siblings wander by...and glance?  What will they see?  

The Story Line quilts and the Lady quilts for that matter, are the essence of me...the vessel that allowed me to express myself, they were the catalyst that allowed me to see inside of me.

When there is doubt and disbelief, it is to not see me...again.

And maybe, the most important person this Art was meant to reach, was me!

Guess it doesn't matter who believes, hears or sees....for I am the most important one who believes in me.

A Reflection of Me.

A few years back, Susan Boyle made a splash in the world, when she began to sing; such an unlikely sound coming from this average looking woman...as my quilts are hung in public, it feels like the complete opposite of Susan Boyle....I am an average looking woman, and coming from me...is the articulation of what, for generations, has been kept in the dark.  The family secrets.

It is one thing to sorta know what lives in the darkness, and quite another to have access to the inner workings of an adult child, working her way through sexual abuse....into recovery. The feelings and actual movement or dance of being estranged from a family of 14.  

I feel like I am about to sing in public, and the words will be awful...that instead of applause, I will get booed off the stage.  

I never wrote or quilted for an audience.  I did it to fight my way into peace, love and joy.  And, in order to find this love, joy and peace, I had to walk away from abusive relationships or ones that were no longer working with my authentic stride to wellness.

And, I believe in me and my Lady quilts and my journey.  What I have not had was public scrutiny and I feel vulnerable and open and exposed.

That being said.  I am very proud that my Ladies are out and standing proud....a reflection of Me.

Failed to Register...

"A man set to stand trial for molesting an underage girl was sentenced to nine months in jail for failing to register as a sexual offender after an earlier offense."  

Now let's see. This 27 year old man is awaiting a new trial...but he is in jail because he failed to 'register as a sex offender'.  Perhaps our court system needs to be in jail too, for not putting this man away the first time.  How many chances do you get in our legal system before they get the message.  "SEX OFFENDER".

Who is failing to register that he is a sexual predator?

He knows it.

His victims know it.

The family of the victim more than likely knows it, Unless he is family, than the jury is still out....they too may not have registered his sex offending ways.

Who doesn't know this man is a sex offender?

And yet, we will have a long expensive court case to see if he is guilty or not... 

Really?

To me, he is not the only one who failed to register....

(article on the front page of the Daily Mining Gazette - Houghton Michigan)

Love is in the Details....

"Work is Love made visible" Kahlil Gibran

Two of my daughters and I put on a Bridal Shower for my daughter who is getting married in three weeks...and the attention to detail was mind blowing, fun and involved, time, care and work.

As the time drew nearer to starting the shower, we had almost pulled off all our ideas, in creating a wonderful outdoor lady party...and it came to me "Love is in the details".  Love is what we were making visible or tangible.  

I grew up in a culture or environment, where details and fluff (extras) were not necessary and were skipped.  We just did what was needed and rarely went above board.  I am certain money had a lot to do with it and the sheer number of children to care for, but I hadn't realized until we (the girls pulled together the creative ideas) were putting it all together that this is what love does.

It is the extra attention, the getting the right feel, the perfect color, just the right jar or container, it all mattered.  It mattered, because the daughter and sister it was to honor, mattered more!

Each piece we picked out reflected my daughter and our love for her.  

What was also fun to put it all together, to plan and figure out the details....okay, the third triangle banner was a bit much, but I LOVED how they looked!   We all pitched in and created a shower to remember....and visible love!

Fresh flowers....lovingly put in mason jars.....

Table set for special ladies....

and my most special ladies....

A great place for a shower.  When, my girls were little, this was their place to play house, to dress up, and hang clothes in the trees.  I tried talking them into a dress-up shower, where we would all dress up in large hats and long dresses.....but, they were not sold.

And, the fabric in the banners were material with special meanings....or at least some.  Dogs to represent my daughters furry children, a piece from my favorite Aunts stash, who passed away and passed on her love for quilting to me, a piece from Finland from a special friend, my hand-dyed, and lots of left overs from many Lady quilts....together their colors and stories created a wonderful decoration...giving love to the shower.

I want to thank my daughters for giving me the lesson.....that love is in the details!

Joining the Team

We have all heard the term "Co-dependent", but I just read "Co-Alcoholic" as a woman described herself being married to an alcoholic.

It somehow puts the other person into the disease much clearer than co-dependent. It shows you being part of the problem more clearly than being dependent upon each other.

I then, of course, looked at other behaviors that we would be Co-Members in....such as Co-drug addict, Co-pedophile, etc.  This to me, joins the so called 'innocent' into the negative energy field as aiding and abetting the addicted individual in a way that isn't just co-dependent, but an active participant in their addiction...enabler.

I had previously seen the co-conspirator, as in denial, but being a co-pedophile, you are doing things to make his addiction continue.  It isn't about denial, it is about allowing and giving ease for him/her to continue this life style.

I believe, if we started defining the non-addictive spouse this way, it may open their eyes to just who they are and what they are doing to actively support a negative lifestyle.

I know that I have seen/felt and believed that my mother was not an innocent party, and defining her as a co-pedophile would be much more accurate than any other word I had.  Where she actively participated to ensure he had his drug of choice and to live his lifestly of choice, he indeed needed a good co-pedophile.

I also enabled him, by denying my own feelings and body.  When I was able to be with my body and speak out about my feelings and truth of my fear of him,  I stopped being a co-pedophile.

Defining those who are willingly, even resentfully, taking care of the addict, in this way, will help not define the addict and blame them....but to see clearly the side of the non-addict...the Co-addict.

It is my belief, that a huge part of the problem is the lack of holding accountable all the co-alcoholics, co-heroin addicts, co-meth addicts, co-child abusers, etc...that if we start focusing on what enables these folks to continue, we will find that the problem doesn't begin and end with one person.

I had to go and look up "Co".

It says, "Jointly, mutually, common..."

Jointly....means, "with another person, together.

So, there you have it.

When you are a Co, you are joining the team.