Two Realities, One Life

Photo from my book: The Art of Strength

Two Realities, One Life

This is not your typical love story. Although my family of origin taught me tough love, there was love. In their passing, I miss them all.

It’s easy to believe that incest is a relationship between the victim and the perpetrator. But it’s a family relationship that feels like a virus. It infects the hearts of every member of the family with mistrust, jealousy and fear.

My family was no exception.

My sister felt like I was the flower and she was the dirt. In dad’s drunken rage’s he would hit her; and, saved me for his more perverse character flaw.
I understand her lack of sympathy.

My mom was in denial and insisted that my history with dad didn’t leave any scares. “You’re fine,” she’d insist. She could never grasp that his pedophilia had nothing to do with her attractiveness and allure. She never even asked how I was.
I understand her distance.

I just felt like a piece of garbage, not worth protecting.
I also understand that understanding doesn’t change the despair I’ve had to sift through.

After years of being gaslit, my mind felt like Swiss cheese. What was true, and the fear that 3-years of incest was nothing to whine about, started to flip flop. If it weren’t for my body’s “tension patterns” coupled with the disassociated experience that rescued my senses from the events, I would have remained confused indefinitely.

The body can override the mind’s confusion. And more importantly, the body cannot be gaslit.

My body remembers the fright from the sounds, the muscular tension from protective posturing, and the frustration of a vocal freeze, from when dad repeatedly entered my room in the dark.

My body also remembers the safety when in a disassociated altered reality, the sense of belonging I experienced when my bones felt aligned with gravity, the freedom of a tension free body, and my senses being elevated out of dad’s grasp.

The fear, protective posturing, and vocal freeze from my reality could have taken over my life. But instead, I learned to embody the safety, belonging and freedom from my disassociated reality.

Mind-body or somatic therapies listen to the body’s version of a story. Asking the mind to take a break from its over-investment with emotional reactions. A mind-body approach recognizes the body’s remembrance of a story, tracking the “tension patterns” left over from protective posturing.

Because of my experience with dad, I created such a therapy that I’ve named BodyLogos—meaning the body’s Divine wisdom.

BodyLogos uses posture and strength training to track the “tension patterns” in the body, employs a technique that uses resistance to release tension as you create strength, and infuses the movement with transformational active meditation that replaces personal despair with hope.

BodyLogos is the healing art that elevated me out of despair and is how I bring hope into the world.

This is what healing looks like.

Some stories appear negative, yet have happy endings.

If anyone is interested in learning more about BodyLogos please reach out to me at mindthebody@bodylogos.com.