In Greek mythology a phoenix is a long-lived bird that is continuously regenerated or reborn. According to sources the phoenix would die in a show of flames and combustion and from those ashes, a fledgling phoenix rises – renewed and reborn.
When I think about my life I can relate to the phoenix. There were many times when I felt like I was going to self combust with all the pent up frustration, anger and pain that consumed me. But as luck or God would have it, instead I transcended the ashes and found my wings and flew.
I have never thought of myself as anyone special, talented or clever for that matter. In fact for most of my life I had a very low opinion of myself, no doubt aided and abetted by the poor self image that was painted with broad brush strokes by those whom I loved the most.
It took thirty two long years of living before I stopped believing all the negative diatribe and replaced it with positive acclamations.
Instead of asking “why me?” I began asking “why did this happen to me?” The answer was always there right in front of me. I knew I had to write, to share my story. Not for profit or for fame, but because I needed to make sense of why all these things happened to me, and maybe someone who most needs to hear my story will connect with it and find the strength to find their wings too.
It was at age thirty two that I finally broke the cycle of abuse that had followed me for much of my life.
One of the most powerful ways I did this was by recognizing why I kept finding men who would control and abuse me. I discovered that my abusers were the best teachers I would ever find. Without realising it, I was repeatedly attracting men who I could not dominate. For fear of becoming anything like the domineering woman who gave birth to me.
I finally understood that my Father whom I always loved but wrongly thought to be a weak man, was in fact the strongest man I have ever met.
Like the Phoenix through the writing of Soft Underbelly I have been reborn, the writer within me has been set free to fly.