Monthly Archives: October 2016
This morning I am looking through my computer for all of the materials I have on the topic of Canada’s spanking law. I have so many (unfulfilled) plans to write on a couple of different topics and this is one of them. I’ve been studying or interested in this topic for more than 12 years and I have don’t absolutely NOTHING in terms of publishable writing… Why?
This past week I got some great coaching that helped me to begin to look at my everyday activity every day, every week from a different perspective…first and foremost probably from a (more healthy) Shantelle-centered perspective. It is both exciting and terribly terrifying at the same time because examining what I do, how I do it, and why will reveal me. I learned when I was very young to not do that. But that lesson, to hide myself (even from myself, it turns out!), have made it so difficult for me to focus on my own ‘stuff’… Yes, I know how to hide my thoughts and feelings about things, and, when it comes to looking at my calendar, create a list of things to do and at the same time erase everything I have done as soon as I have done it. Like, like I am making sure there are no crumbs left behind so that no one can chase me or hunt me down, or pin me down… As a result, I myself am lost.
The title of this blog entry is apt because it will also be, in some form or another, the title for one of my papers on the spanking law. Both, all about childhood insecurity, and how in fighting it, we can reproduce in the same or much higher amounts.
I am an adult with childhood insecurity. And in trying to make myself feel more secured I have abandoned myself over and over. And the only way to transform this experience is to look at what I am doing, how I am doing it, and welcome and accept it. And then be in communication with myself about how to carry on differently in the future. And to make everything I need come first, and for it to come first out in the open. Out in the open for me too.
I didn’t get in touch with Madame Bujeault…for a long time…after I left. And I didn’t call to find out whether she was ok, whether she was still alive. I just today looked for an obituary and discovered that she just died in January of this year. It’s been so long. About 20 years?! She lived so long. And I didn’t see her again… Partly because I didn’t want to see her son. And perhaps ore because I didn’t think I could look her in the face with a smile after her son came on to me. I feel such guilt for useless things, for things that have nothing to do with me.