What happens when a woman betrays you?
When your best friend fucks you over, and your same gender, your tribe leave you out in the cold?
When this happened to me I disconnected, massively....but not just to other women, I disconnected to everything feminine including myself.
I was young, she was my best friend, we spent days together playing outside, riding horses and sitting in bedrooms being children. She was my life...as friends are when your ten.
We didn't go to the same school, but every other moment was spent together, we lived across the street from one another, so as soon as we were home, we'd find each other.
When it was time to move up schools we chose to go together, this was going to be so cool, at last my best friend was at school with me.
It was me moving into her group of friends, I'd been the one going to a distant school, but it was all going to be amazing, why wouldn't it be.
oh how wrong I was, and oh how horrid girls can be when they feel threatened. I was quirky, different, not the normal kid, I didn't wear sports brands...in the 90's there were a lot of brands, and I didn't have poker straight hair, I didn't know the cool words and I wasn't interested in boys. I liked horses and drawing and playing music.
I suppose when your friends with someone at home, it doesn't matter how quirky they are as no one else has to see them, you can like them for them and not worry about others opinions. But when that quirky friend that wears her soul on her sleeve comes out of your hiding place.....suddenly she can be pretty embarrassing...suddenly she can't be your friend...suddenly you must detach all ties.
This is what happened to me, I was out on the cold, she had picked survival instinct over friendship. At 13 I didn't know this, and I was confused and lost. But survival instinct didn't just shive me out, it caused her and the rest of the tribe (my whole year group) to make a statement of me...if you choose to be different this is what happens.
So I was beaten, bruised, called names, told I was ugly, weird, fat, the list goes on...all by my best friend and her tribe.
De-womanising...roll on a few years of torture and you'll find a girl in her late teens that hates herself, her life and everything in it, other than her horse and her parents.
You'll find a girl that contemplates suicide every day, that hides under the covers so she doesn't have to go to school and when its time to leave school you'll find a girl looking for the furthest place to run and be "someone new".
So I headed off to college, a few hundred miles away from home and a chance to be different from the old me. The one that got me so fucked over I couldn't breathe anymore.
I barriered up, sensual, emotional, feeling Meg was gone....masculine driven, take no fucking prisoners Meg was here, girl friends...gone...stick with the boys and impress them was my plan...although it wasn't a conscious plan. This is what my subconscious did for her own survival.
Arriving in a new place once more into a new tribe, I watched and did everything everyone else did, even if it didn't feel right I'd do it just to fit in. There was no fucking way I was going to be different again, I got drunk...a lot....I messed around a lot...and when everyone else started talking about having sex....I made sure I had sex too. I picked the college player, got so drunk I don't remember a single thing of it and lost my virginity...all to fit in and all to rebel against my femininity.
I numbed it all, each time sex was on the agenda I drank...each time there was a chance I may feel something I drank.
It took me 14 years to be able to have sex and enjoy it, and there's a whole lot of other trauma to come before that happened.
This is stuff I'm not proud of, its the dark shadows that bruised my soul. Its the messy raw shit that I hide away from in busyness.
It was survival.
As soon as college was done, I ran home, exhausted by being this person and having no idea who I was anymore.
Still numb, I got busy, I started a business and got my masculine on once more. I partied until 4am then went straight to work and worked until 9pm then partied again....I wasn't going to face any of it.
I broke at the age of 19, in hospital, unable to speak, walk or talk, running away had caused me to exhaust myself, but was I about to get all mushy and feelings on it....hell no. The second I could stand I was back out there, working, staying busy.....hiding.
This was my cycle...work, ill, work, ill, work, ill. I was no wimp, Id say, who has days off sick unless they're in hospital, my periods used to flaw me, I now know it was my soul screaming, My illness used to leave me unable to speak some days, I now know it was my truth trying to be heard, and my body wouldn't work, I now know it was my body telling me to stop wearing the barriers.
But I kept going, if someone let me down, I'd cut them off, brutal, If someone showed weakness I'd disconnect, go all masculine and tough.
I was a bitch, I was a hard ass worker and I wasn't ever getting screwed again.
But I was falling apart, I was depressed, angry, and everything about myself I hated.
I tried to go to counselling, she just assumed my hatred for the feminine came from a bad relationship with my mother, my mother actually was the only female that hadn't hurt me.
When females burn females, wounds are opened so deep, whether it is a sister, a mother a best friend, it all affects our love for our feminine.
Its taken me years to trust other women once more and even longer to love myself. I still feel I need to prove my self worth to friends, give them something to like me for, and I still struggle with going into a group of people that are already a tribe, Its built in that I will be outcast.
I can only now sleep naked in my own skin, not needing to cover up, and yesterday I went skinny dipping for the first time.
Being hurt by women, bullied by friends, cuts you deep. And its only now I can see how much it affected me.
I don't blame those girls, my best friend, she did it to survive and I've done things since to survive myself, I forgave the girls two years ago when I fell to bits on the beach in Egypt in my yoga teachers arms. I don't blame myself or judge myself, I'm sorry for pain I've caused others in my refusal to face the hurts, and I hope one day they will see it was my survival.
I know now that we all do things to survive and sometimes they're pretty ugly, but I also know that they have to be seen, felt and owned as part of our story, that if we don't hold them up, if we stifle them, push them under we just cause ourselves more pain, more suffering in the long run.
So my stories will come, full open and honest.. I won't be ashamed of them and I certainly won't hide from them