My Story
Forty years ago, my family and I were saying goodbye to family and friends in Cape Town, South Africa. I was feeling a deep sense of guilt for leaving “the cause;” I felt I was abandoning my friends and our fight. Living under the apartheid system was not easy but, on the other hand, standing up for truth came with consequences. In spite of how I felt, the truth of the matter was that I didn't have a choice. My parents wanted a better life for us which meant leaving our home. In spite of this, the guilt set in.
Starting a new high school in Victoria, Australia had a new set of challenges. I went from one fight to another - this time, a fight for acceptance. The school counselor was quick to add to the battle by telling me to quit my “better than everyone else” accent and start speaking like an Aussie. Who knew that we South Africans spoke to shame the world? Lies! Desperate to fit in and belong, I practiced sounding like an Aussie. The only problem was that while I may have sounded like an Aussie, I looked “colored.” This was confirmed when soon afterward, I would hear “Hey, Blackie” or “Hey, Africa” directed at me. And so, the game began. I started to pretend. I pretended the name calling didn’t hurt. I pretended that I was okay. I pretended I had friends.
After a while, I became rather good at pretending. I was quiet, yet fun and happy, and appearing to be living my best life. No one would have guessed that on the inside, I was insecure, a people pleaser, and wracked with fear.
Eventually, I stopped digging under the surface, rocking the boat, and I just became numb. I despised myself for being weak and not finding the strength to be vulnerable. I had always wanted to do more with my life. I wanted to be more than just a wife or a mother and the guilt was overwhelming.
A couple of years ago, my life took an unexpected curve. I was 50 and divorced. Let me tell you, I was so much fun to be around. 😜. All joking aside, I was dejected, humiliated, betrayed, abandoned, and broke. To make matters worse, I was also dealing with chronic pain that led to a life support situation. (But, let’s leave that for another day)
I found myself at rock bottom. And, from that vantage point, I made the choice to stop being a victim.
I made a choice to stop believing the lies someone else spoke over me.
My son-in-law, Ben, (also a phenomenal coach), was instrumental in ushering me to the point of making changes.
I reached out to an incredible woman who nudged me into making some real changes. She was straight to the point, nurturing, and so very understanding. She listened and we worked together. Even when the sessions were painful, even when I didn’t want to go, I went. I learnt to quiet my thoughts that raged war in my head day and night. It’s always going to be scary to do the stuff worth doing in order to change things around. You can’t outrun fear. You can’t fight it or ignore it. At long last, I decided that nothing was going to be the reason, my story ended – not my past, not my divorce. I began to write my own story.
We all are victims of something in our lives. We all are capable of reacting to everything and anything. At some point we have to make the decision to move forward.
Now, I ask you today, are you ready to rewrite your story? Are you ready to make the right choice for you? Are you ready to unwrap yourself from negativity? In the belly of my heartache, in the grieving of lost dreams, and in the uprooting of trust, I finally found out who I am.
I made a choice to show up and to live the life that I wanted. I took responsibility and I decided to rewrite my story. I know that my future is bigger and better than my past and I believe the same is true for YOU.