The Journey Inward

So this is not my usual type of post. I am looking for feedback, input, shared experiences, unique experiences, stories, fears, hidden shame, whatever you feel comfortable sharing. I would very much appreciate hearing from you.

This past weekend, my oldest friend came to stay with me. She arranged a lunch with a half dozen other childhood friends, ones I don’t keep in touch with. I felt uneasy, guarded, petty. Those feelings stayed with me and I decided I needed to be curious and open to the fact that it seemed there was something deeper going on here. I decided to let go and let the Universe do its work.

It came to me in words on a walk. Hiding. Embarrassment. Shame. Unsafe. Fear. I let these words flow freely, one leading to the next and next. I didn’t try to analyze or decipher, just let them come. Luckily, I had therapy that day and shared how disappointed I was in myself that I wasn’t accepting my whole self and still felt shame and responsibility. She helped me reframe this and as the day wore on and into the next, the fog cleared a bit.

I experienced trauma in childhood, trauma I told NO ONE about. Instead my peers saw behaviors that they interpreted in their own way. That scared me then and scares me now. I have carried embarrassment, shame and fear my whole life and always looked forward to the next stage to “start over,” hide from my past, as if it was all my fault. I have carried what has not been mine to carry.

Being with my childhood friends made me feel anxious, never knowing where the conversation might turn and when it might turn to me and my behavior as a preteen and teenager. Never knowing when I might have a question or memory thrown my way and knowing my trauma response is politeness, helplessness, freezing. I must answer. One was texting other old friends and I caught her taking a candid picture of me with my mouth full of spinach salad to send out. She posted to facebook minutes after our time together. I felt exposed, with nowhere to hide. I felt unsafe.

I began to see that this was grief speaking. And in sitting with my grief, I could be set free. I don’t have to share my story, defend myself, offer explanations for old behavior. These people are not in my inner circle and haven’t been for decades. They are not people I share with. I’m not brave or healed because I attend these functions every summer and face my fears. Instead, maybe I’m brave and healing if I choose not to attend, not to spend my precious time with people who are no longer part of my life, when it seems I never have enough time for those who are.

A vague description, I know, but I’m wondering if any of you who have experienced trauma as children have difficulty seeing childhood friends or going home. Thanks!