A Part That’s Never Seen The Light

So there’s a part of me, let’s call her an exile, that I have never talked about, never written about. She’s the part that’s there when I’m sexually intimate with my husband, and I never thought I’d reveal her to anyone. Let’s be honest, for a very long time I wasn’t even particularly aware that she was there in my place. She’s been so hidden. Yet now I’m considering bringing her into therapy with me.

Is this a good idea? Do I even have a clear sense of why I want to do this? Have I thought through what the implications might be? I don’t know, no, and no. I can’t say why I have started down this path.

shame young

And why now? I’m still in the middle of my psychiatric detox. I’m sleep deprived. I’m unemployed, and the bank account is acutely aware of the absence of monthly deposits. I can’t get much of anything done. Is this really the time to delve into this?

And yet, she’s rising up from my unconscious, something that’s been hidden in the dark, something that didn’t expect to ever come out from the cave of shame. She wants to experience the light, even if just for a short time, in a safe place, with a person who can accept it.

It’s so confusing to me. Is this a part? Maybe it’s more of a fantasy or a mental game than a part? I texted E the other day, after Monday’s session, in which we talked about maybe talking about this part.

Can a part have a story that is different from my story?

I don’t know. Let’s first see what her story is.

Getting cold feet.

Put some socks on, then.

Somehow I expected you to say that. Except I thought you’d say slippers.

Sorry, joking.

I’m sure this is not easy, but I’ll love you no matter what. There’s no good reason not to explore this. You are safe, you are loved, and you seek wholeness.

On Monday, we made a list of reasons why I might want to talk about her, this part. I started with “so maybe I can choose who will be there in my sexual connection to my husband.”

E suggested, “Maybe so you can thank and even celebrate this part and what she’s done for you.” (That’s sweet, isn’t it? I wouldn’t have come up with that one.)

We both said, “To reduce the shame,” of course.

I added, “Maybe to help her and give her some guidance.” E didn’t really know what I meant by this, but that’s because she doesn’t know this part yet. This part has no boundaries, no sense of self-protection. She doesn’t evaluate whether something is good for her or not. She has coped by going along with other people’s game plan. In a way, as strange as it might sound, I feel concerned about her.

The thing is, E is going away to a conference next week (note the pained expression on my face as I write those words). I can either choose to share this part tomorrow in our session or I can wait two weeks. I’m still undecided. I’ve been telling myself, “Keep moving forward while the impetus is there. As difficult as it can be, sharing what’s been hidden is always good for you.” But sometimes I answer back, “It’s a big deal. Honor that by waiting until she’ll be around for you.

Waiting seems wise and self-protective, but I think the urgency I’ve been feeling will probably override that impulse. We’ll see.

Featured image from Arlette Cifuentes Meneses, Creative Commons

 

14 thoughts on “A Part That’s Never Seen The Light

  1. I have to say that for me the past let’s me know when they are ready. No amount of planning our preparation can hold that back. It sounds like your part is ready and wants to”be in the light”. You can do this. You will be OK, even with your T away after, maybe it will give you the time after sharing to process with that part for a bit as well. Holding you in my thoughts.

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    • You’re so right, Carly. She does want to come into the light, while at the same time, she’s very nervous about it. Skittish, kind of. I realize I’ll need to make it very safe for her.

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  2. It’s always a difficult choice, whether to go ahead and talk about something really important before a break or wait until therapist is back but possibly risk not wanting to talk about it by then. Whichever you choose, it will be right for you in the moment. Good luck .

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    • Wouldn’t it be better if they just wouldn’t take breaks?!?

      As it turns out, I tried, and it was awkward and unsatisfying. But now I have 10 days or so to think about it and how to do it better. The shame is more painful than I’d realized, so that’s what I will be considering.

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      • Yes, taking breaks seems unacceptable to me 🙂
        I’m sorry it didn’t go as well as you wanted. But at least the subject has now been externalised for the first time. The first time is the hardest, and you did it.

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  3. You know, a few weeks ago, my therapust was going away and we got into some big stuff in my last session. I was really anxious about how her time off would go for me. My therapist gave me a daily assignment for the time she was gone, and then when she came back, I shared the results with her and found out that I had been able to process lots on my own. I really liked the strength I found in that. My therapust had also said that I could email her if I needed to and I never once thought about it. Maybe you could talk about that part and then do an activity with her every day. I live that part of you because she has helped you with a potentially very difficult part of your relationship with your husband. I also understand how she has been and could continue to be unsafe. I wonder if she might need your care too. Maybe she needs a room on the house. I wonder what it would look like and what her name might be. I had a therapust who used to tell me to be exquisitely curious about my flashbacks and nightmares and thoughts and what they were trying to tell me. I never got it when I was seeing that therapist, but I’m starting to get it now. These things. No matter how dark and terrifying, have already happened. They are over. I’m in control, even when I feel like I’m not. And the things that keep coming back are trying to tell me something. And I can learn from them.
    If this doesn’t make sense, please just ignore me. I ferl lately like things are starting to snap into place, but it might only make sense to me.

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    • This makes lots of sense, Patty. I can completely tell that you understand this whole thing, and I am so glad you share your experience.

      I actually do know her name. I know some (not all) of her story. But I’m nervous about sharing her. I’m worried that E won’t like some of her behaviors. And here’s a big one: I’m scared that bringing her out will make her disappear and leave me with no way to be sexual at all.

      Liked by 1 person

  4. Dear Q: Wow, so I am feeling really jealous that you have access to this part (and/or she to you!!??) I feel very confused. I want a part like that. I am so scared I am telling you this … how horrible am I?? It’s just that I feel you as one of my Main Bloggy Friends, so I am telling it like it is.
    Grown-Up TS agrees with Sirena.
    Thank you for listening, Q. TS

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    • I used to think my parts weren’t really parts, because I (mostly) could access them. I don’t black out, I don’t lose days at a time. So I thought my parts weren’t real, not like people who have DID or something. Weirdly, what you’d think should make it easier, having some access, in some way slowed me down in my acceptance of my parts.

      At the same time, though in a way I’ve had access to her, she’s also hid in the shadows. For a long time, I knew about her and at the same time wasn’t conscious of her, if that makes any sense.

      I’m glad you told me how you feel. It’s brave of you, and it’s kind of you because it helps to normalize the tenderness, yearning, and confusion that surrounds all this work.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Pingback: It Didn’t Go So Well | la quemada

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