Wonder Woman

Last weekend was very big. I had someone be afraid of me because of lies. That hurt. For a few hours, I thought a dear friend had given up and that I had lost her. That was scary. I had to make the ex accountable for his actions and he went to jail again. That's always hard. I had someone blame me for all the things the ex has done wrong. That was irritating. Someone I had begun to care for deeply betrayed me in a very huge way. My heart broke. All of this happened within three days, one thing after the other, pressure after pressure, weight after weight, pain after pain.

"No mortal could bear this," I told a friend through my tears. "No human being could endure this pressure without being crushed. But I will not give up. I will not give in. I will transform instead. I will be stronger than I am. I'm a super hero."

The spider bit me, I fell into the radioactive sludge, I entered the experimental chamber, I traveled from the distant planet, my elements reconfigured, and now I am more than I am. Now I am a super hero. I like that I am a super hero. I like that I can fight my battles and come out conqueror. I like that I am courageous and capable and powerful. I like that I am frequently fearless and even unafraid of fear. I like all of that about me. But it's a lot. Superheros have a lot of responsibility. They have a lot of pressure to be there, to be everything, to give all.

Then this weekend happened, and it was very, very big, too.

I attended a three-day wellness seminar. I went into it ready to give all, as I always do. I went into it ready to put in the work, to be open and vulnerable, to allow people to see me, to trust.

Or so I thought. What I really expected was to learn more tools to add to my utility belt, but mostly share my own wisdom and insights with the others and enlighten them, for, as a super hero, that was my responsibility: to rescue others. I know, I'm rolling my eyes at myself right now, too.

But the first powerful realization I had when I first arrived was that I would not be the hero for any of these people. They were already united, having been through the previous seminar together. They were already empowered with their own self-awareness, their own goals and purposes. They did not need me. This threw me off-kilter for a minute, but then I regained my footing and felt a little more free. This weekend would get to be truly about ME.

I approached it with a new perspective of gaining insights from others, from learning about myself as I observed them. But there was one additional roadblock in my way. I was aware of it, but I didn't realize how massive it was.

Through many of my recent experiences, I have been unheard and unseen by men who have placed themselves in positions of authority over me. Multiple times, I have felt betrayed by those who I felt should have assisted in protecting me. Therefore, I chose not to need them. If they will not help, if they will not protect my children and me, I will protect us myself. This is not necessarily an unhealthy mindset, except when there are those who want to help me and I will not let them. This happened at the seminar. A man in a position of authority wanted to help me and I did not want to need his help.

All the best superheros have sidekicks. They have people they rely on and that they care about. They are vulnerable because they care for their loved ones, they let people in who have earned their trust. Villains attempt to exploit those vulnerabilities, but only because they misunderstand that those vulnerabilities are the superhero's true power. If the heroes did not care, they would not protect, they would not serve, they would not conquer. Vulnerability is the true power. Trust and love coupled with healthy boundaries is vulnerability, is power.

I battled with this attitude of mine and worked through the why, then pushed through the fear and allowed myself to trust. In so doing, I recognized important things about myself that liberated me even further. I chose to trust this man and allow him to help me. He did NOT betray my trust. He DID help me. There are people out there who will help me. There are other heroes and sidekicks and citizens that will rally forth in support of my cause for truth and justice. And I will rally to theirs. We will be vulnerable and trust and love, and in that we will be powerful.

It is good to be powerful. It is good to be vulnerable.

Another thing I learned, however, is that even superheros are not superheros all the time.

I don't have to always have all the answers. I don't have to be completely healed. I don't have to take on all of the responsibility. I don't have to give all my trust and let everyone in. I don't have to withhold all of my trust and keep everyone out. I don't have to be in superhero mode every moment. It doesn't have to be all or nothing all the time.

Every hero has a secret identity as she goes out into the world. In that identity, the hero is still doing good. In more quiet ways, perhaps, but still being vulnerable, still caring, still loving, still powerful. The alternate identity also deserves to be valued, to be seen, to be heard. The "ordinary" person is as valuable as the heroic element because both sides are necessary for the hero to succeed. Even a superhero can't be super all the time.

And that's okay.

Balance. That is what I seek. I will fight for truth and justice and safety. I will conquer the lies and proclaim the truth. My voice will be heard by many as I refuse to let it be silenced ever again. And I will go about day by day, doing ordinary things, and watching extraordinary results roll forth.

I will find the power in my vulnerability and,
as always,
I won't give up.

"What I do is not up to you."

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