Staying True to Your Inner Voice
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Always Remain True to Yourself
We each have subtle senses; intuitions, gut feelings, little voices inside our heads that guide our judgment.
We do not need to elicit our intuition every time we have a decision to make. Many of our decisions are determined by conscious thought, prior experience and through the employment of our five physical senses; sight, taste, hearing, touch, and smell.
Sometimes decisions or solutions to a dilemma are not clear cut and judgment calls are needed. Sometimes we have nothing tangible to draw on in determining the best outcome. These are the times we have to summon our conscience and rely on the perceptive abilities of our subtle senses.
Our intuition is never wrong. It always steers us in the right direction. We only need listen and trust it. Granted, that is much easier said than done. It takes great faith to believe in something so abstract, especially when we know that the right decision may not be a popular one. I had such a dilemma in 2009 while writing the manuscript of my memoir, Fine…ly.
The first draft of the manuscript was nearly finished, but the story as a whole did not seem to make sense. An integral part of my personal history was absent. Though I had felt compelled to share the truth about my dysfunctional childhood, the early pain that had so greatly influenced my life, I had deliberately chosen not to incorporate the information into the story. I had resigned myself to leaving those facts out to protect my parents.
Revealing the truth meant “outing” their emotional abuse. Parents with Narcissistic Personality Disorder spend a lifetime conditioning their children not to talk about what goes on in the family. To do so would be considered the ultimate betrayal. My parents, still alive, would no doubt be hurt, upset, and angry.
But avoiding the truth meant perpetuating a secret that I no longer wanted to keep, one that had caused me heartache and pain throughout my life. Avoiding the truth meant protecting others at my expense. That would have been easier to deal with in the short term but harder on me in the long run.
I had a difficult decision to make. The public airing of our family's dirty laundry would take great courage and resolve on my part. I found myself at an impasse, though intuitively I knew what the right answer was.
After a great deal of praying and soul searching, I decided to follow my inner guidance. I put my faith in telling the truth and committed to writing about it. It was the harder road to take, but I knew deep within my soul that it was the right one.
A low level of apprehension constantly pervaded my thoughts in the interim between the completion of my manuscript and the publishing of it. It seemed my intuition was at odds with my conscience—it has never been my nature to inflict emotional pain on others. It was a difficult time for me, but I knew the conflict was fear based and I was not going to allow it to overrule my inner guidance. I only hoped that I would someday receive confirmation that my decision was right.
Fine…ly was published in October 2010. With the taxing emotional demands of Fine…ly’s pre-release, the joy of my new authorship had been bridled. Once removed, I could begin relaxing and basking in its glow.
I sent my parents a copy of the book with a note attached that said, "I'm finally free." They read it and reacted exactly as I had anticipated they would. They were shocked, hurt, and angry. They wanted to know how I could "do such a horrible thing to them." Still I never second guessed my decision. I told the truth and stated the facts.
It was not long after the initial impact of my parents' reactions hit that I received the confirmatio
I had hoped for—the one that would affirm I had made the right decision. With this confirmatio
I knew, without a doubt, that this challenge had been placed in my hands for a reason.
Pandora's Box now fully opened, years and years of silent suffering endured by my two sisters and I was finally exposed. The ugly truth spewed out. Though my parents remained in denial, my sisters and I no longer had to. The revelation cleared the way for the healing process to begin for the three of us.
Once published, the reception to my memoir Fine…ly was excellent. Everyone loved the book—word was that they could not put it down. That is what every author hopes for. Contrarily, appalled by my unthinkable "betrayal," my parents made it known that they threw my book in the trash. To this day (five years later) the thought of it still makes their blood boil.
Several months after my book was released I went back to my home town and met up with a group of old girlfriends, many of whom I had not seen in twenty years or longer. They had all read my memoir and loved it—and they all seemed proud of their childhood friend's accomplishment.
Having known me in my earlier years (some very well) these women assumed they knew everything about me. But that was not true. I had not revealed certain aspects of my childhood to them or anyone else. It had taken a lifetime for me to understand the deep hurt I felt inside. It had taken years for me to unravel the confusion that typically accompanies narcissistic abuse. And besides, malignant narcissistic abuse is covert. Even if I had understood what was going on back then, no one outside of my immediate family would have been able to recognize it.
My friends had many question about my story. Their curiosity was understandable. After all they were my friends—several of us had grown up together. So I addressed their inquiries unguarded and with more candor tha
I would have afforded others. But I was soon taken aback when a few of them began exploiting my vulnerability and challenging the truth of my story. What I thought was genuine interest suddenly felt highly judgmental.
They questioned how I could have written what I did about my parents. They accused me of exaggerating the truth and being cruel to them.
I felt cornered, goaded into justifying my decisions. And the harder I tried to vindicate myself, the deeper hole I seemed to dig. Having been put on the spot I reacted defensively and was therefore accused of being unresolved about my past, an accomplishment I had proudly worked so hard at. They eventually had me in tears. The rest of the women watched the assault and said nothing. No one advocated for me - no one spoke on my behalf. That was the last time I associated with any of these women.
What caused my friends to react the way they did is unclear. I do know that their reactions had little or nothing to do with me - that I was just a projection screen for their own feelings, self-images, and unresolved personal issues. In any case, the reason for their uncalled for behavior is essentially unimportant. It is irrelevant to the point I am trying to make.
intuitio
2The way I handled myself was a choice. I allowed myself to be victimized. No one forced me to justify myself or my position. I volunteered that all on my own. My intentions were pure and my conscience was clear. The only thing I lacked was confidence and firm resolve in what I stood for.
I learned a valuable lesson that day. I guess it was more like a valuable reminder; I knew the lesson but did not apply the knowledge. What others think or say about us does not matter. What is important is that we always stay true to ourselves.
Fine…ly: My Story of Hope, Love, and Destiny is available in ebook and paperback through Amazon.com
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