Inner Royalty and Self-Respect (In the Cards)

One of the themes I’ve been encountering this year has been related to the outflow of my energy. In the Northern Hemisphere, we are moving into the warmer seasons, where, at least for me, my mood and daily productivity tends to be stronger than in the cooler times of the year. I feel that I’m exerting effort more than I’m replenishing my reserves. In particular, I been paying more attention than I normally would to my desire to be helpful.

A core strength of who I am as a person is that I am highly skilled at problem-solving. It is natural for me to analyze situations based on the available resources and to select among various outcomes the one I think will work the best to address the issue at hand. This gift is one for which I’m grateful, but I’ve found it is not often well-received by others. If offered unsolicited, it slips from being an act of kindness into a “know-it-all” place. What frustrates me to no end is when people turn to me for help and then become offended when I am frank with them rather than support their continued denial of reality. Those who can’t face hard truths rarely respond well to those who are comfortable in observing the world as it actually is.

The phrase “pearls before swine” has gone through my head more times than I can count since the pandemic began. I tried to warn others about what was coming, only to be dismissed with hostility and to have the basic facts I was presenting be ignored or discounted. Everything I predicted would happen has, as well as far more serious outcomes than even I had anticipated. I want to pour my energy into people who respect me enough to know that I speak truth and who will be honest with me in turn, but I also need to find a way to reclaim my efforts that are futile and lost on those who won’t face reality.

It feels like a psychic exchange occurs in which I am robbed when someone asks for my advice and then stomps on it, or treats me as ignorant in areas where I am nothing of the sort. It is a loss of dignity, so perfectly captures in the “pearls before swine” image. I know there is a deep traumatic wound that is being exposed when these situations happen, because I suspect an outside observer might not feel that I’ve endured a grave moment of dishonor.

I am working through imagery and ritual that will help me realign my sense of self-respect and dignity when I am dishonored. Icons of crowns and robes and regal adornment are flashing through my head along with moods of luxury and abundance. Where I want to not trip over myself is to fall into the dehumanization trap of believing that those who are rude to me and who don’t value my gifts are worthless or beneath me. It is not really about them but about my need to remain intact when the best of me is viewed with scorn and contempt. Their denial of my truth speaks to their inability to be honest with themselves as to their weak or impoverished or emotional parts of self more than it says anything about my relationship with mine, but, when I continue to focus hatred towards them rather than to celebrate myself, I buy into their lies. My lived reality is that I acknowledge all the parts of myself, even the ones that are difficult to accept and that I have a rich inner world.

There is plenty for each aspect of myself and each part’s role is vital to who I am as a being. A practice dedicated to inner dignity, inner royalty, inner respect and inner truth and ownership are life-giving ways of honoring who I am that may help to restore each jewel of my energy back to myself. I’ve never conceptualized this process in this way and am curious as to how this viewpoint will change how I see myself. If you’ve had experience in this area, please share in the comments!

Even in My Dreams, She Haunts Me

I dreamt of my mother last night. The specifics of the dream, upon awakening, were immediately lost to me, but the impression of herself she’s carved on my psyche feels as though it is pulsating with remembrance of the scarring she caused. So many years have past since I’ve seen her in person that the line between who she was to me and what she represents to me has blurred.

I wrote yesterday that my capacity as a person isn’t related to the approval of cishet white men. I think I need to acknowledge part of what that means to me is that my parents’ views of me are irrelevant to my worth as a person, but also admit, in the same breath, that they still contour the shape of my inner world so much more than I wish they did. My reactivity to being dismissed and disrespected, the impulsiveness with which I direct my energy to defend myself, is a straight line from being constantly verbally abused and gaslit as a child and teenager.

My mother, real and internalized, was the queen of denial. She could cry and say she was never unhappy. She could have a conversation with me and, hours later, tell me she’d not seen me all day. She could witness my father sexually abusing me and pretend nothing happened. Reality was a malleable, unsequenced energy that she bent to her will. I didn’t have access to voice recorders or cell phone video growing up, but I have no doubt she would have found a way to deny the digital as well as the physical world.

She’s entered my mind as of late because of the pandemic. I fully expect, if she becomes ill, to hear from my siblings for the first time in years as to how desperate she is for my presence. This happened a few years ago when she got cancer, and, when I tried to form a limited amount of communication with her, she denied that she in any way initiated their contact with me. She thinks she owns me and can manipulate me to suit her needs after all this distance, time and hard truths.

I feel contempt more than any other emotion for her and it leaks through when I am disrespected by people who might, even in an oblique way, stand in for her in my mind. My dream had only the emotion of terror and the sensation of being trapped, that she found a way to make the story of my life collapse into itself and become only the abuse, the denial, the betrayal and the fear that underlies my relationship templates. A part of me wants to light up all the circuit boards the next time I’m rebuked for sharing a verifiable truth, to call out the privilege that is no doubt driving the “well, actually…” I’m receiving. I know this will lead to a response of useless and defensive posturing. The truth of my triggering will be apparent if I start emailing sources and data to prove my point.

My mission statement for this year includes “powerful vulnerability.” I wonder what the response would be if I responded with “you telling me I’m wrong about something I’ve extensively researched and for which I could easily locate 10+ scientific sources is reminiscent of how my parents responded to me when I spoke a truth they didn’t want to receive as a child. I’ve learned how futile it is to argue with someone who doesn’t give my voice the weight it deserves, so I’m not going to waste any more energy on this discussion.” There are people who show me through their responses that they value what I have to say and take it in without defensive skepticism. There is a new story of my life I can tell, but I have to stop stalling out in the shallows of my past in order to do so.

Inner Wisdom (In the Cards)

As I transition to the spring season of my In an Open Hand intuitive deck, I want to take a few moments to reflect on one of the parts of self to which my deck attends, namely, wisdom. I view wisdom as inner guidance that observes and responds to the needs of other parts of self. I became curious, in sitting with the concept of wisdom, as to what it needs itself.

My wise self immediately answered me and let me know, in a word, respect is what it desires. This week has been one experience after another of people (mostly senior to me), blatantly ignoring my education and insight and flat-out telling me I’m wrong or discounting my opinions in areas where I carry a great certainty that I am right. I crave the type of respect that takes time to develop, the one that evaluates another’s capacity and deems them worthy of taking seriously. I’m afraid, though, that there is often a temptation to give or withhold wisdom based on more superficial traits.

There is an entire body of work around the concept of (primarily cishet white) men asserting, without sufficient evidence, their own opinion as fact. What struck me as of late was the level of disregard that can accompany the dismissal of another’s perspective, as I found myself spoken to as though I had no right to stand on equal footing. I swear I could feel the arrogance of privilege seeping through. I knew in that moment that my wisdom wasn’t being respected; my inner needs were not being met by the person with whom I was communicating.

I get frightened when I can tell that someone is absorbing what I am sharing without any critical thinking, as though my knowledge is to be unquestioned. I want my wisdom to be held to the light, as there is always room to add in nuance and perspective. I do not want to be worshiped or for my insight to replace hard science. What angers me greatly is when the hard science I share is discounted because of the vehicle of my semi-young trans and non-binary body being the one delivering it. I believe we need to see past peoples’ exteriors and grant them a fair audience, judging what they have to say on the quality of their knowledge base and not on their similarity to us or our internalized stereotype of competent.

I find myself wondering then how I can better care for my inner wise self, given that I am likely to continue to be disrespected and ignored in the outer world. The first idea I have comes back to not wasting my energy. My capacity for knowledge isn’t related to how many cishet white men take me seriously. F*ck, that feels like a revelation! I felt something fall off of me when I wrote that sentence, the truth of it hitting me emotionally and not just intellectually. Can we please teach all children this message? Such a large percentage of the “people it is necessary to impress” in my life have fallen into this category, and releasing myself of any need for them to be my target audience is powerful. I think, then, that the next part of reassessing what my inner needs for respect might be is to ask to whom I most want what I have to say to be meaningful, a question which I think will take some time to ponder.

Buried in this entire essay is an unasked query as to my ability to show others respect. There are layers of unconscious biases I still need to uncover, but I think I have begun to move in a direction of acknowledging the value of listening to lived experience in earnestness, rather than “well, actually..” as a default. Wisdom and hard science aren’t synonymous, nor is “sounding smart” the same as being astute. Where are you at in terms of accessing your inner wisdom? Do you feel respected? To whom might you be giving away your power? How well do you listen to the wisdom of others?

Not Backing Down

I’m back at work and the misgendering is already in full gear. I also received several lectures about how asking people to treat me the same way I treat them (by gendering me correctly) is way too much to ask. It’s invalidation after invalidation. When I’m invalidated, I’m sent the message that I don’t matter and that the other person’s comfort is more important than the recognition of my full existence. The harm is multiplied when someone then goes into why what I am asking for is such a burden and so difficult for them to manage.

In sitting with these experiences, I feel prodded to share the pain that they cause me with the people who cause them. The issue with doing this is any guilt they feel will likely lead to increased defensiveness and additional invalidation. I do think that it is worth speaking about the dysphoria misgendering causes to a wider audience, as those who are capable of empathy and compassion will be motivated to stand in solidarity with trans people and to correct others who harm us.

One of the biggest costs I am enduring is increased isolation because putting myself in environments in which I know someone will harm and no one will do anything about it is Retraumatization 101 for me. My complex PTSD/dissociation issues are creeping into my experiences as an open trans person in that I am triggered by feelings of betrayal and elements of abuse when people carry on as though I am the binary gender I was assigned at birth. These same people ignore my mental health issues on the whole as well, so the layers of invalidation are starting to stack quite high.

As I sit with this experience for a longer period of time, what I realize is that the powerful vulnerability I set as part of my mission statement for 2020 has to be targeted in its application. I do not need to open up to the people who are hurting me. I need to open up to the people who can do something about it, namely to my HR department and potential legal resources at my disposal.

I don’t have an option to run away when my employment is at stake, so I need to assemble my game plan. What disgusts me in this is the fact that trans people can be stereotyped as being litigious, when, along with other marginalized groups, I’m coming to see the reason we may be viewed that way is that our attempts at soliciting respect through interpersonal means are completely disregarded. A person can only take so much mistreatment before they have to stand up for themselves. I have little faith in the legal system, but I know any progress I might make will pave the path for anyone who comes after me.

In considering what I am dealing with in the context of the many forms of oppression and marginalization that exist in American society, the commonality that I find is a commitment to responding to the whims and proclivities of those who already have a disproportionate amount of power. In my situation, those who are cis-het are sheltered from the consequences of their exploitation of those of us who do not or can not conform to their worldview. This toxic stew is further concentrated in the power of its poison for those who face racism, xenophobia and the like.

I feel so disgusted in knowing that the people who mistreat me have vulnerable young people who trust them and look up to them, ripe for harm as their unchecked prejudices and biases play out. As this feeling of revulsion rises in me, I always come back to the same thought: I can never slip fully into us/them; I am vulnerable to the same prejudices and biases and must be vigilant in my own inner work in this area. I must do better and I must do what I can to force those whose bias harms me to do better. We can only change ourselves, but we can seek consequences for bad behavior. If you are trans and/or non-binary, where are you at on a scale from acquiescence to riot in terms of how you respond to misgendering? Where have you turned to for support? How have you taken care of yourself in these experiences?