Curating a "normal" self.
I climbed uphill and shaped myself into a “normal” person: educated, seemingly well off, put-together, fully masked. I worked overtime where it seemed others had been set up to succeed.
Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt – marvelous error!! –
that I have a beehive
here inside my heart.
and the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from all my old failures.
-Antonio Machado, “Last Night As I Was Sleeping”
When I was a teenager, my dad would make a twice monthly twisting & turning 45 minute drive through the back roads of rural Missouri to come get me for the weekend.
I’d crawl into his teeny, beat up purple truck and set my weekend bag atop the trash and sunflower seed shells he had spit out onto the floorboard. (After dad put the bottle down, he got his hit off of theology, gulping Mountain Dew, smacking Big Red and compulsively chewing David’s BBQ sunflower seeds). He never did anything in a normal amount.
Each ride with him was the same:
I’d be carsick and crack the window. There was no cell service which allotted 20 minutes for dad to deliver a sermon about why I couldn’t follow Jesus and love the world at the same time— how I was a “Peter” who would inevitably betray Christ for popularity. And then we would stop by Taco Bell to get our regular: a cheese quesadilla and a Baja Blast. To this day I’ve ordered nothing else.
To be honest, I was always a tad embarrassed by my family as a whole.
For as long as I can remember I’ve been trying to distance myself from where I came from. To clean out the metaphorical trash-filled car and have something presentable for the world.
It’s not that I don’t love my dad, or my family.
I do… very much so.
It’s just… naming the reality of my childhood turns heads, and not in the way I’ve always wanted to.
For example, dad has been married five times– my mom was the first wife, which means I was there when he cheated.
I was there when he married his running partner and named their daughter Madeline – Maddie for short, just like me.
I was there when he crashed his car into a telephone pole drunk; my car-seat smashed into the floorboard.
I was there when he married his third wife, Amanda in the courthouse on the coldest February day. I was there when all her kids moved in. I was there without a room of my own.
I was there when he drove me to the TA Travel Center for our bi-weekly date to tell me he was going to jail for a while– I already knew because my new sister who now lived in my room had told me a week prior. I acted un-phased. Expressionless, I told him I didn’t care.
“I already know. Alex told me.”
I was there when he came out of prison “born again” and radical– and was there for his third and fourth divorce, and fifth wedding.
I’m there, the family queer, divorced and unmarried, every Christmas. I’m there when they remind me how I had crushes on boys, and how I’m “only queer because it’s good for marketing.”
I’m there with the siblings who may as well be distant cousins– reminded again that with 6 siblings in total, not one of them share the same family as me.
No one in the world has the same family as me… not even my own family.
Never once has there been a photo of my family.
Never once, not even at my wedding, did my entire family show up.
I even had two sisters attend the same high school at the same time and never once did they meet.
These experiences, among many I have never shared publicly, have shaped my understanding of the world and myself. How the facts of my history are so odd, so painful, so wacky that one person experiencing all of it doesn’t even seem possible!
My story once filled me with so much shame, hurt, confusion and an ache to belong. I desperately wanted a “normal” family and a “normal” childhood.
So I climbed uphill and shaped myself into a “normal” person: educated, seemingly well off, put-together, fully masked. I worked overtime where it seemed others had been set up to succeed.
I didn’t realize yet that by curating a self, I was also cutting myself off from my Truth.
It’s been through reclaiming all I abandoned that I have alchemized my shame and watched it blossom into open-heartedness, non-judgment, clarity and compassion.
Now I see that my pain has conspired with my purpose– I was never meant to be the “normal” person I longed to be.
I can't outrun (or out-heal) my past. And I don’t want to.
Continually I place my hand on my heart and say, “Welcome, welcome, welcome, Madison. All of you is welcome here.”
Continually I share my truth with safe and supportive people who unabashedly welcome me, because they also welcome themselves.
Slowly in doing this I have opened up to all of my experiences; opened up to this life I’ve been given– the grief, the longing, the gifts, the grace– all of it.
Slowly, I have let my True Self be seen; building my courage and capacity to not only be with myself, but also to see others in their wholeness.
Slowly, all of it has become a gift.
Slowly, each of these perceived failures have become the honey that fills my heart.
The Truth is, I don’t want “normal.”
I want to traverse the depths and explore the heights– unafraid of the humanness I might find.
Each of us come from lineages with quirks. An idea of what “normal” means, whether that meant becoming exactly who your family wanted you to be, or rebelling altogether.
Each of us have adopted unhelpful stories, contorted ourselves and made contracts that no longer serve. Each of us have personas, masks and defenses that guard against our True Identity.
None of that is a problem– in fact, it’s just the way it is. And, when we are ready, we can begin to open up to more.
This is when life gets really, really interesting.
This is when our service is amplified.
This is when our relationships blossom.
This is when our shame is alchemized into whole-hearted love.
This is when we can really be-with reality.
This is when life becomes art.
This is precisely what my 3-part ritual workshop series, Muchness, is designed to support you with.
Through 3 Sacred Sundays in December we will gather to practice energy medicine & somatic explorations for alchemizing shame, melting freeze, bolstering your integrity & bringing forth the magical Muchness within you.
We are going far beyond “normal.” Thank Goddess.
Doors open on Monday, but you can get in early & with $50 off if you join the waitlist right here.
Also!
By joining the waitlist, you’ll be registered for the *free* “12 Days of Muchness—” a 12-day mini series full of simple ways to support you to live into your Muchness with vibrant visibility, deep intimacy & sacred self-expression.
I’d love to take things a little deeper & share this with you.
-Madison
P.S. My private somatic coaching is still sold out through the winter. Muchness is the way to work together through this season. :) If you have any questions, go ahead and hit reply to ask. I’d love to hear from you!
