Finding Myself

Authenticity is one of those elusive things for so many people and I was no exception. It took me a long time, like three decades long, to learn what authenticity is, and why it should be important to me. I hear it's harder, though, when you go through what I went through as a child. My childhood wasn't great and I suffered through a lot. I went through things that no child should ever go through, and then I told no one until I was nearly 30. I let the darkness consume me and in doing so I lost my hopes and dreams for my life. I lost myself.

In high school I seemed authentic. I kept as busy as I could so I would never have to be alone with my own thoughts. I learned later on that wanting to be busy like that all the time was a response to my trauma. It's what I did to survive. So I played instruments, I played sports, I studied hard, I joined club after club, I worked part time jobs. Most importantly I made it my mission to be as perfect as possible all the time. I thought if I could be perfect, then I would love myself and others would be able to love me too. Other students would tell me that they admired my ability to not care what other's think. But I did care. I cared a lot. I just pretended that I didn't, I hid my true self and my true feelings from everyone even myself. Which didn't help me. See I was afraid to admit I was a mess. I was afraid to admit that my childhood and my family wasn't like the other students that I knew. I was different. My family was different, but I didn't want to be different, and I especially didn't want to be me.

After high school, I tried to run from myself, from the demons that haunted me. I still didn't tell anyone. I still didn't want anyone to know how broken I was. I was ashamed of what I had been put through. I was ashamed to be broken. I partied a lot and drank all the time because I wanted to forget who I was and what I had been through. I hid from my friends and my family and I tried so hard to hide from myself. I tried to forget I was damaged. I tried to forget that the real me was hurting. I tried to pretend I was fine and everything in my life was okay. But it didn't work. It only caused me to drink more. It caused me to completely lose all sense of who I wanted to be. I envied the dead and the peace that death could bring. For many years I didn't even think about who I was and why finding myself, my true self was important. All I could think about, all I could do was hide. Hide from my past, hide from who I was, hide from what I went through. I just wanted to numb my pain. I didn't want to face it, I didn't want to admit I was hurting. I just wanted to die so I could finally feel at peace.

Eventually, I couldn't hide anymore and nothing worked to numb my pain, so I had to either lie down and die, give up completely or face it. In order to save myself, I had to face my demons. I had no choice I was literally at a point where I HAD to get better. Luckily, I was able to find a great therapist who was able to reach the real Jolene. The one that had been locked inside the nightmares in my head. The one that wanted to cry out from all the pain she had suffered. The one who wanted to find a way back to herself. The one that wanted help. After years of intensive therapy, she was finally freed. And let me tell you, that girl was a fighter. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't concerned with what others would think of her and her trauma. She was a warrior. She was fierce. And she was finally unleashed and fighting for our survival.

Finding myself meant cutting ties with family members that didn't support me. It meant finding friends, real friends, who wouldn't judge me for what I went through. It meant learning to support myself even when I wasn't perfect. It also meant being honest with these people and with myself for the first time, maybe ever. That honesty hurt the people that cared for me. It hurt them to know what I had suffered with in silence for years. But they still loved me. They still cared about me and knowing that helped me to eventually care about myself again. Having their support through my healing helped me to understand that I deserved love even when I couldn't love myself.

I started to grow stronger, the panic attacks came less frequently. I still had a long way to go but I could see glimmers of the woman I desperately wanted to be. I wasn't going to be that scared little girl crying alone in the darkness anymore. I was stronger, I was finally fighting for who I wanted to be. I was fighting for my future and my authentic self. I was fighting for who I wanted to become and who I knew I could be. The battle was long and exhausting, but becoming my authentic self was worth it. I love the woman I see in the mirror at this point. Am I perfect? No, but I am becoming me and that is so much more important than being perfect.

I learned so much on my path to authenticity and I wouldn't trade that journey for anything at this point in my life. I learned that writing and music could help heal me. I learned that I am strong enough. I learned that even though I didn't love myself I deserved love. I learned that being who I needed to be brought me a peace I had never known before. I'm proud of myself for overcoming my childhood. I'm proud that I'm not afraid to admit that I'm broken and different from others. I'm proud of myself for fighting through the dark moments. I'm proud of who I've become and who I continue to become. My becoming my authentic self saved me from an early death at my own hands. Do I still think about it? Yeah, sometimes I do, but I know at this point that I'll fight through it.

Now whenever I face challenges I know there's a warrior inside me and even if I don't think I can get through this challenge, that warrior can and she will overcome it. And through it all I will continue to be unapologetically myself. No matter what I go through I will never lose who I've become. I will never lose my authenticity again. Knowing that gives me the courage I need to continue to battle those demons others had created for me so long ago. Even in the darkest moments I just hold tight to who I've become and who I want to be and somehow I survive. That journey to becoming who I was meant to be, my true and authentic self, required everything I had to give. But it was worth it. It was worth all of my effort. I was worth all the effort.