That this blog is a very personal testimony to my journey as a human being, a soul in a woman’s body, as a teacher and daughter cannot be refuted. I have held nothing back for this was the platform upon which I bared my soul and sought healing. It was the platform from which I spoke of my moments of Truths and from where I pleaded my case to spiritual realms and dimentions.
In the past five months I have tried to find my way back to my Creator. The precept held by many learned ones that the more knowledge one has the more confusing Truths become is not to be doubted. It is in fact so. The more I searched for God the more I lost my direction back to Him. But I never stopped praying. I never stopped praying that He would send to me a man who is one of His own. One who would love me for who and what I am and who would accept my status as a woman. I prayed this prayer with deep fervour – so much so that at times it hurt from somewhere deep inside and I always felt numb afterwards – hearing nothing and seeing even less. I tried so hard within my grief for the loss of my mother to hear His voice. When you are as lost as I am the smallest direction helps.
I was found in October by a man who is everything I could hope for. When I was a younger teacher he was my dearest and only friend. With him I could be anything I wanted, however I wanted. We were so easy with each other simply because we were friends -like brother and sister. We could speak about anything and very often did. I was creative and he was as well – in a different way to myself – but creative nevertheless and we recognised in each other committment and passion to the things that defined us. Then one day everything changed. And he was gone from my life to marry and leave for another country. I can’t remember how I said goodbye. I just remember not being able to absorb the reality as I watched him drive away. I had difficulty in hearing and I seemed to have lost visual focus. I was in shock and my mother came to me and asked what was wrong. I vowed to her that I would never again speak to him, or want to know about him or acknowledge his humanity. I became very ill for days and I remember thinking to myself that this was a typical Kathy Linton scenario as she mourned the loss and longing for Heathcliff in Wuthering Heights. Up to that time I always thought the writing of Emily Bronte a bit excessive. Experiencing the loss of my friend put everything into place for me. I finally understood Kathy Linton’s ‘ extremes ‘ in emotional behavior. I was at the very same place. It took me five years to come to terms with the loss of A in my life. I promised myself I would never let anyone into my life or that close to me again. I was faithful to my promise and I began to then lead a routinely solitary life. Teaching, spending my energies on pupils who for the most part ( there were always the exceptions) didn’t desearve it, taking care of my mother – and at that time I tried to reconnect with a father I never knew. I poured all the excess emotions in to my art and writing. I kept to my vow of never wanting to communicate or speak to him again. The pain of it would have been more than I could bear. I always remained fragile to his reality and life. And he went on to forge a wonderfully successful life and beautiful family. Men like him did that because they are committed and true to those they embrace and draw into their world.
It was the passing of my mother that brought him into my life through an email. I was determined not to answer it and after I sat and re- read it for many hours. I replied. And the spark ignited and it was as though the years slipped away – all the pain, the episodes that touched me and refined and rehoned my soul and persona…it was as though nothing had happened. My friend and brother was back with me – even from across the ocean. After the initial outbursts and explanations and tantrums that only I can throw ( which he permitted me to vent for he is that kind of man)..the storm which was raging for so long inside of me and which not one…not even my closest two people knew anything of – was finally calmed. In a truly ‘Damascus’ moment I knew I never stopped loving him – I had just supressed it so deeply for so long in order to validate my reticence at the time and my anger thereafter.
The love I felt for a man who supported me after my mother left I realise now was not love at all but a transference of the nurturing love I felt for my mother . I was very afraid of being alone – for alone I truly was except for the support of my two ex pupils (now grown with their own families). I had dedicated my life to a career that brought very little fulfillment as a woman. Dance was everything and my dedication to it rewarded me with emptiness and social isolation. Family I do not have. So I clung to a man who confused and emotionally annihilated me. Severe damage was done. What I experienced then and termed ‘love’ pales by comparison to what I now know.
After the January 14 meltdown and the ensuing problems of self harm I experienced I fought as hard as I could to become the person my mother always wanted me to be. I knew with deep guilt that the truth of any situation such as this brings that I had let her down. I had in a way forgotten everything she ever taught me. I was filled with deep remorse and regret. How could I just tell her I was ashamed and deeply sorry…(if God would only grant me a moment) I never stopped praying …never in all the time that I was floundering with emotional pain and grief. I asked my Creator Father to be found by a man who is one of His own.
Like the Prodigal son…I was terribly lost and am now found.
I dont know what lies ahead and I am afraid..of many things. I only know that in this moment in time I am speaking to the best that has happened to me. For his sake I am trying to heal the things and issues that caused my ‘fall from grace…