As a child, things at home weren’t exactly perfect. My father had severe anger issues and I was terrified of him. We all were.
As the eldest child, though, I naturally stepped into the role of defender without even realizing it. I carried that burden. I have no idea what I would have done to defend us — me, my sister, and my mom — or if I could have done anything, but I felt a sense of duty to at least mentally play the role.
It was a big role for a terrified little girl. From an early age, though, I learned to mask my fear behind a larger than life tough exterior. Every ounce of confidence was to try and hide how scared I was really was.
That fear eventually followed me to school where bullies terrorized me. Maybe it was that under current of fear that drew them to me. Maybe it was my overcompensating confidence. Regardless the reason, I felt like I had a target on my back and was constantly in survival mode. Eventually, the fear got so strong that I was convinced I might die from it…so I stopped going to school.
Every morning I’d walk into the school…into my classroom…take my chair off the top of the desk to sit down…and he’d catch my eye. He was always there…across the room…staring at me. He didn’t even have to say anything. I could see the hate in his eyes. The panic would start in my stomach and rise up to grip my heart. Before I could even sit down and settle in, I’d stand back up and put the chair on top of the desk and walk to the office. I’d get physically sick and have to go home.
This happened for weeks until the fear grew so strong that I couldn’t muster the will to go to school anymore. After months of staying home and being diagnosed with an ulcer at the young age of 10, I was on the verge of not passing the 4th grade.
My parents finally intervened and demanded something be done. This was honestly the first time I felt protected by both parents. Unfortunately this feeling didn’t last…and I’m not sure how much of it was really about me. I think I’d become an inconvenience being at home and it was time to get me back in school.
So I went back…and the bullying continued. I just pushed the fear down…burying it. As a result, though, I lost touch with that carefree child…with whatever part of that little girl that was left, at least. In its place I stepped deeper and deeper into my masculine energy…and there I stayed.
A friend of mine said I seemed submissive around Mr. Universe. Interesting word “submissive”…and not accurate. I’m not conforming or being meekly obedient or passive. What he saw was that I was no longer trying to be the dominant force. I no longer had to be in complete control.
I was relaxing into the feminine. I’m no less spirited…or opinionated…or strong-willed…I just don’t have to be “the man anymore”…and it’s nice. Guess that’s what happens when you finally find a grown ass man to date. You’re able to find a sense of safety in the feminine.
At 41 it feels good to tap back into that carefree, child-like energy. To be a girl again…for the first time in far too long.