Category: Life Lessons

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Black Sheep Can Upgrade To Spicy Unicorn: Embracing Your Unique Journey

Most of us are a wee bit odd, we roam to the beat of our own songs, some of our beats more distinct than others.  We may have given ourselves the “Black Sheep” label, it may have been an honorary title, it may have been given without permission.   It has happened, we have found ourselves here, not knowing what to do with our rank of oddity.  There are a number of options available to us, one is complain about the situation, blame “others” about the situation, avoid the situation, conform as best as possible, or embrace it (unless you are an asshole, then this advice sucks.)  Well it is not advice anyway, it is how I use my trauma recovery to guide me forward.  Sometimes I am a battle unicorn, who is effective, but very lonely, sometimes I am a community unicorn full of fun and support.   When I am in my full self, I am happy being all of my pieces.

Our unique sense of what is me, myself and I developed in relation to our early support systems.   Some support systems are equipped with love and secure boundaries that allow us to safely mature.  These are skills that kin groups learn and teach their children, who in turn, pass it on to theirs.  A better skill tool box than others.  Many families have instead generations of abuse, neglect, poverty.  The skills that are passed down in these kin groups are survival based.  Fight or flight all of the time, even when it is no longer a need, just a frustratingly tragic inheritance.

When we are blamed for problems in the family, we are taught that we bear responsibility for other people’s happiness.  We eat sins.  We look for ways to carry the weight of our people’s happiness.  Some of us devote our lives to achieving and improving, in the hopes to deserve affection.    Some of us give up, hide, wilt away, waiting for someone to seek us.  Some of us numb ourselves with addiction or distraction.  Some of us try it all.  Regardless of what we do, it is not until we give up responsibility for other’s happiness, that we can heal.

This usually occurs when we had uncommon life experiences when we were young.  Our perspective was shaped by something that most people outside our immediate family do not get to experience.   This can leave us feeling isolated, even within our family.   When this happens we can feel like

I have been the black sheep, I have had no choice, time and tide created the “other” in me.  These forces have created this in all of us.  Most of us eagerly share our unique selves with the world.  Some of us are weighed down by the fear of reaction to our “other,” encumbered by pain and uncertainty.  We make our way in the world carrying our burdens of judgement, we are exhausted and need support.  Nurturing and understanding all that makes us beautiful and messy allows us to heal the parts of us that were neglected, abused, and ignored. We need to look at our wounded parts with all of the love and attention that you give a tiny baby.

Achieving this upgrade requires courage and stamina.  It requires us to leave blame behind and step into the realm of self-compassion. Embracing our uniqueness means acknowledging that the path to healing involves understanding our individual narratives and rewriting the script with love and acceptance.

When we carry the “Black Sheep” or any other “othering” label, it’s an opportunity to redefine what that means to us. Instead of viewing it as a burden, we can see it as a badge of resilience, a testament to our ability to navigate through challenges that others might not comprehend.

Our unique experiences may have left us feeling isolated within our own families, but it’s crucial to recognize that we are not alone in this journey. Many others share similar struggles, and through connection and empathy, we can build a community that understands and supports one another.

As we embark on the path of healing, it’s essential to let go of the blame that may have been instilled in us. Blaming ourselves for the family problems or feeling responsible for others’ happiness only perpetuates the cycle of pain. True healing begins when we release those burdens and redirect our focus inward.

The process is not easy; it requires courage to confront the wounds, strength to carry the weight of our past, and resilience to face potential judgment from the world. Yet, in doing so, we unlock the door to self-discovery and the freedom to live authentically.

So, let us cast off the shackles of blame, embrace our uniqueness, and embark on the journey of self-love and understanding. For in doing so, we not only heal ourselves but also contribute to the healing of those around us. We become the architects of our own narratives, forging a path that celebrates the beauty in our imperfections and the strength in our authenticity.

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Perspective

My old neighbourhood

When I was sixteen years old my mother informed me that she was taking me out of school to give me an education.  What she meant by this was that I was going to miss two weeks of my first term of grade eleven because we were going to South East Asia.   It was the 1980’s so we did not have web browsers and social media, there was no way to casually meet people from other countries. I was a kid from rural Nova Scotia my comprehension of the world was limited.  

Our itinerary was 3 days in Hong Kong, then flying to Thailand and spending 3 days (nights) in Bangkok and finally 3 days in Pattaya, a beach resort about a hundred kilometers to the south east.   It took absolutely no persuading for me to leave school, I did not actually spend that much time there while I was in the country. I am not proud of that fact but it is the truth. Flying time, not including layovers, was twenty hours or so.  This was brutal on me, my body does not like to travel, by the time we made it to Hong Kong my feet were so swollen they were bulging out of my shoes.

To this day I do not let being sick keep me from experiencing all that I can, I am not sure if I would recommend this, but again this is not about judging my day to day life choices.  We saw as much of the area around Hong Kong as we could get to within our three days. This included a tour of Guangzhou on mainland China. I remember a pretty hardcore open market and school kids singing, the way everywhere around the world gets school kids to sing even here.  There was also a temple and a zoo with a panda. I remember shopping in Macau on another day and purchasing my first black market goods, “A Salt with a Deadly Pepa” and “Tiffany”, cassettes that would travel with me for decades to come.

I remember being in Bangkok, but by then I was very sick, so I did not see as much here.  I did have the honour of seeing the royal temple and then I do not really remember much after that until we got to Pattaya.  Overwhelming poverty was everywhere, I had never experienced anything like it before. I was still too sick to leave the hotel most days, but I could lie by the pool, and by the last day I felt a bit better so that evening I ate at a bar down the street.  I have a few vague memories about this place, but they are mixed up in stories from earlier dinners that I was not there for. I do have one memory that I know is all mine. It was the conversation that gave me the education that my mother had brought me to Asia for.

My hubby and I when we were dating back in 1988

I hate to generalize about people, but the people of Thailand are overwhelmingly blessed with a youthful beauty. Many people often mistook my baby-faced sixteen year old self to be a grown woman.  I say this because it makes it difficult to guess how old our server was that evening. My gut tells me that she was under twenty-five and she could easily have been younger than me. Many young girls worked in the bars around Pattaya.  Rural families facing starvation sold their daughters to businesses in the towns and cities. We were warned about human traffickers working the beach and for me not to go there by myself.

I am going to call my friend that evening Kouru.  This is not her real name, it means lotus which describes her spirit.  She also grew through a lot of darkness and still exuded a warm beauty.  I do not remember much of what we said that evening, but I remember she asked me what I was going to do when I grew up.  I believe at the time my plan was to be a marine biologist.

It was the first time I was having a conversation with someone who was my gender, around my age, and from an entirely different culture.  We were chatting like school friends and then she asked the question. It was the first time I realized just how incredibly lucky I am to have been born a Canadian citizen with all of the advantage that comes with.  She asked my plans and the mask of vacation disappeared. I saw them emerge in my mind. The number of possible futures the 16 year old me had in front of her in that moment in time felt infinite.

My imagination showed me all of the gifts and privilege that I had been born into.  Kouru could see on my face how insecure I was sharing my reality with her. She asked me to tell her, she asked as if I was reading a her a Hugo novel.  Kouru was an adventure seeker, she wanted to see what I was seeing so I told her about being able to do anything that I wanted to do. I told her about being able to go to university, and the paths that opened for me.  This was not something that was available to most women in the world in the 1980’s. A look crossed her face, a look of such beautiful warmth, she was genuinely happy that one of us could go on this adventure. She seemed so authentically grateful that I had these gifts, it hit me like a punch.  

Pattaya

I understood that Kouru would not only never go to university, she was unlikely to have had highschool or earlier grades.  Women who were sold to the bars worked in the sex industry. Some were enslaved, some were not, and I do not know her story. People still go to Thailand for the sex trade; at that time it had many very dark corners and I am sure they are still there.  

My new friend most likely had a very difficult life ahead of her, and I had infinite possibilities.  The randomness of fate along with its cruelties seemed infinite as well. I could not bring Kouru along on my journey with me physically, but today if I need to know something whether something is possible her spirit still lends me her perspective on my options.  

I hope fate had a kinder life for Kouru than I imagined.  I know that things have changed in Thailand and that women’s roles are evolving the way that they are here.  

The education that I received on that vacation has been the most profound of my life.  I live where I have access to almost limitless resources. My access to these resources is limited by my imagination.   I had the veil of privilege removed for a moment so that I could see all of the treasure that stands before me, not just an education but a gift.

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Beautifully Broken Mind

We do not exist.

In the scope of space time our human experience is so fast it does not register as an actual event.

We are small.

Sometimes by the ocean, in the mountains, we feel it.  We feel it at night staring into to the beautifully terrifying vastness of the universe from our backyard.

We are a quick pulse of energy in the universe.

My spiritual journey has been one with many twists and turns.   I was raised by very religious people.  A desire to have a relationship with the divine feels born in me.

What I understand of my brief experience in the universe has become my divine.

I share this moment of space time with all of the other energies that surround me, authentically, with love and acceptance.

I could call this any number of things but I chose spiritual.  Believing that the energy I use to serve and share with the world is important, relies on faith.  It is people of faith who speak of purpose, vision, and hope.

I have yet to make it through an entire day living by my spiritual principles.   I am not sure that it is even possible.  My ability to regulate my emotions has been a lifelong struggle.  Not being in control when you body decides it wants to ugly cry for an hour, is embarrassing and inconvenient.  Not knowing when your body is going to lash out and hurt people, or shut them down, or make them feel weak and small, that is a very heavy burden.  When I speak to people about the hard work of mental health it is hard to explain all that goes into harnessing the viper in my brain.  My brain is tells me lies and distorts my reality.  My brain tells me that pain and anguish in the person who I have never met is my fault.   “Why are you blaming me, it is not fair.”  It will turn complete strangers into enemies. “Who are you to judge me, what have I ever done to you?”  Every person, every set of eyes is a new rabbit hole of threat assessment, every unexpected noise almost certain danger.   Even when I feel good, my brain is watching to see if it makes other people uncomfortable.   It is exhausting.  It breaks my heart to know how many other people are fighting this battle, and have no idea that they are even at war.  The worst part about mental illness is it’s like trying to see your own eye color without a mirror.  There are somethings that are hard to observe with the tool being used to observe it.

I try to know and accept my brain as much as I can.   I listen to my fear and the pain, and try to provide a safe place for them to rest.  I nurture my dreams.  I encourage them to grow and adapt, I let them make mistakes.  I take all of the pieces, humour, compassion and try to accept it all for what is it.  I sit here looking at the world through a kaleidoscope, fragments of sanity.  The pieces that are so painstaking put together show me a world of faith, with all of its hope vision and purpose.  It is so beautiful.  I can not see it all the time, but when I do it is radiant.

 

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Dark Places

We have all been here.  Some of us drop in briefly, there are others who linger here like shadows.   We journey here and back throughout our lives.  Ours stays, chaotic in their nature of time and comfort.  The darkness is endlessly terrifying, but there is a safety in the consistency of the solitude.   Pain may be our nemesis in this place, but it is also our companion.  We dance together, hoping it will end, but afraid to let go and have nothing.

Our dark places allow us to lay down the messiness of life that we carry above our heads.  To drop all disguises.  No faking.  The weight of our pain separating us from the sometimes painful colour of our world.  We hate it here, but our hell is safe.  We believe you, when you describe the beauty of releasing the pain, we just do not know if we would exist without it.  Without the violent emotions that we are hiding from, would we ever feel again?

Power comes from the realization that we have been carrying our mountains that are creating the darkness.    We do the work to dig out, we no longer have to carry it with us as we move on.  I will also suggest going back to nurture and love the piles we left behind, let them turn into beautiful cairns to honour our journey.  If we are feeling weak we can look back at all we are capable of carrying and know that we are strong beyond measure.