Originally written in December of 2016 for an online project I called Naturally Subversive.

Could it be that fear is an unnecessary emotion? That pain is not to be avoided, but in fact carefully saught after as means to growth and evolution? Is it possible that all we’ve been trying to avoid in our lives is precicely what we need the most?

Terrified

Growing up, I was not the girl that sought out danger. I did not like pain or discomfort and I never took a risk that could lead to either. I took these limitations to extremes. I wouldn’t play physical games with my friends or siblings for fear of getting hurt. I couldn’t enjoy the snow in the winter because the cold was so unbearable to my delicate sensitivities. That’s what my parents started to refer to it as: hyper sensitivity. I was allergic to hypoallergenic toiletries and all anyone had to do to make me cry was look at me wrong. I’d have meltdowns, publicly and privately. It got bad. The first time I tried to kill myself and had thoughts of “saving those I loved from this terrible world” I was only 10 years old. The world was a dark and horrible place and I couldn’t bear to try and live through all the pain. The depression persisted through high school and once my best friend died the month before my 16th birthday I began to experiment with self harm. Suddenly, the little girl who would panic and feel faint at the sight of someone else’s blood was a young woman putting blades to her own skin.


I had found myself somewhere I’d never been. Suddenly, pain wasn’t the scariest thing in my world, complete and paralyzing numbness was. Loosing my friend flipped a switch and then nothing mattered any more, nothing bothered me, and that terrified me more than anything. I had to feel something, anything, even if it was the physical pain I’d avoided my whole life.

Gone Reckless

Time would prove that blades aren’t the only way for a broken but beautiful girl to inflict pain on herself. I eventually stopped the self-mutilation, but only after I’d secured new torment. My ex was a charmer. Broad, strong shoulders and the strength of an ox. I’m six foot two and he could move my body in ways I’ve never experienced before or since. For a virgin with a reckless attitude for life and a desperation to find feeling again, this combination of danger and pleasure was exactly what I had been asking for. 


I had only been back from Australia for three weeks at the time I’d met him. It was a dream trip, something I’d wanted to do for as long as I could remember. I had made it happen, somehow, despite all odds. I was only 20 years old. I should’ve been elated, but I wasn’t. I’d found out for myself that even paradise can’t save you from your own misery. I suppose that first orgasm was everything I had been hoping for, the bliss I had been searching far and wide for and had almost given up on. I was hooked, and soon his libido wasn’t the only thing he was using to keep me on edge.


Ecstasy,  LCD, Shrooms, Cocaine; each drug mettled with alcohol and weed, I was lost in a blazing fury. The ways I was experimenting with my reality kept me up for nights on end and distorted the way I could think and feel, but I didn’t care. My ex slowly introduced me to his world of criminal activity; at first it was just drugs but before I knew what had happened my life had become a reoccurring COPS special. I only ended up in jail once, ironically for domestic violence against my hulk of an ex. Even that wasn’t enough to pry my new addictions from my hands, I held on and kept digging deeper into muck that had become my life. 


The twisted romance persisted for over six years, more than four of witch we were married. During that time he would spend almost three years locked up on drug, fraud or burglary charges. Still I stayed. I had convinced myself that the orgasms and highs were love and that we were destined for forever. I believed I could save him from himself, but I wasn’t even trying to save myself. Those years contained many of the most painful and horrific experiences of my life, and for a while I thought some of the best as well.

I came out on the other end feeling as fearless as I had ever been. The initial shock of the betrayal of my own heart set me on a new course. I was forced to face myself, to look at my pain and accept it. Everything changed.

Finding Boldness

Just 20 short months ago I was freshly divorced, decided to quit my cushy job and slowly began the journey that brought me here. I began to learn that I had control and that my thoughts and choices were all directly framing my life. Of course, there was a period of trial and error and I dare say I got a bit worse before I got better. I was bitter and I allowed it to get the best of me; this time the target wasn’t me though.


I became a bit of a man eater. I dabbled in playing Sugar Baby and eventually in Financial Domination. I really wanted to be immune to empathy for the opposite sex after the torments my ex had subjected me to. I didn’t trust or respect any of them so telling them exactly what they wanted to hear in order to maintain control and get what I wanted wasn’t an issue for me. I traveled to New Orleans, Oahu, Orlando and Vegas for “free” because I thought it would make me feel powerful and sexy, something I felt I’d lost when I lost my husband to infidelity (on both ends). It worked and it didn’t work. Did I feel sexy and powerful? Most definitely, but I also felt like I wasn’t able to be genuine. The dishonesty and manipulation was too similar to what my ex had subjected me to; I had found that I’d grown into the very type of person I was so determined to never let use me again.

Learning to Choose My Pain

Soon enough the glamor of luxury spas and restaurants in beautiful places wasn’t enough, I needed to feel real again, even if that meant breaking down my defensive armor and dealing with my raw broken heart. I was finally able to go within and examine my thoughts without judgment, and what I found would spark new interest in living authentically and pursuing my optimal nature.


I had to break it off with my suitors and even a friend who I had been entertaining the diffusional manipulations of. I began working out more, focusing on regaining my wholeness and health. Meditation, weight lifting, hiking and yoga all became more important as all the self care practices I had fruitlessly tried to implement for years suddenly became my go to for emotional processing and release. I had made decisions and finally it wasn’t just to do the fun or easy thing but rather, I had decided to pursue the pain that would help me become the woman I could most respect.


Flash forward and I’m building a bright future for myself and others online, writing the things I need to heal in hopes that my story might help others and still getting stronger every day. I am only at the very beginning stages of this new journey but already I’m reaping the benefits. I’m no longer scared. I don’t need anyone to sugar coat life for me and protect me from everything anymore. I don’t need to force pain in order to feel anymore. I don’t need to be high on drugs and sex in order to experience bliss any longer. I don’t need to influence and control men to feel powerful and sexy. In fact, I feel a very distinct lessening of need. It’s as if I have found the well of sustenance and joy that existed within me all along. 


I’ve learned that pain was a part of life in many ways, and I’ve also learned that you can’t avoid it, but that you can make it purposeful. If we’re all going to face difficulties and tragedies in life, but they don’t have to be meaningless and they can be beneficial if we so choose. It’s up to each of us to make the decision to stop playing victim and start training like a champion. Don’t let life just happen to you, make your dreams come true.


Be bold my tribe.

Let mayryanna know your thoughts...

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.