Making Mayhem and Memories.

The memories pop into my head so much that it's almost embarrassing. You would think after all these years, that the moment my grandmother told me not to eat a second bowl of ice cream wouldn't pop into my head while I'm washing dishes. But, it does and it happens more often than you would think. Memories that I have from things people have said to me or rejection in my early years. It's strange the way they just stop by. Actually, some of the heavy ones were the driving force of my behaviors in my 20s and probably through my early 30s. I was a bit of a late bloomer. The traumatizing years of teenagerdom, seem to have been insufferable for me. For whatever reason, my psyche held on to every negative thing that had ever been said to me with clenched fists. Maybe I'm just not wired right.

I finally grew into myself around 18 or 19. If you asked my mother, she'd say I was always beautiful. I think my ferrets are beautiful, too. But, it was during the 18-21 years that I really struggled on the inside, despite the outside. Suffering a terrible event in my life, which may be a later blog, was the spark that ignited the next decade. My 20s, I was certain I was powerful. Weaponizing my memories, I took that bitterness and that anger and I projected it on to other people. Most notably men. In fact there was one particular boy that I was so madly in love with when I was 14 years old. He hurt me so deeply, after being my very first make out session, only to subsequently completely ignore me for the next several years. At some point in my mid twenties I ran into him. That bitterness was still there and my petty ass completely reeled him in and then dropped him like a bomb. I remember being so gleeful about such a petty and insignificant life choice. The fact that I had grown into myself, and he was aging about as well as a pickle in the sun, only further drove my terrible behavior. Fortunately, I self inflicted enough shitty situations that I stopped that nonsense. Only to pick up a new shitty habit, thanks to my memories.

Over the years those voices and those memories have become quieter and quieter. They still creep up sometimes. I'm lying, they creep up daily. It seems to happen the most when I'm at my most vulnerable. When my self-esteem is at its lowest. I remember the rejection and all of the things that you would think just come along with growing up. To me they were life-changing, life altering experiences. I'm not sure if it's just me and I'm the only one. Perhaps I am absolutely fucking mad. Regardless, it happens to me so it's significant to me.

Through centuries women's feelings, emotions and memories have been disregarded or projected as a source of humor. It's a running joke that women talk about their feelings too much. That a man can do something at 4:00 p.m. on December 13th 1984, and they will still remember it, like it was yesterday. To some extent that's true. I firmly believe that women remember everything including the good things. My question has always been, is it that women are vindictive and emotional? Or, is it that we are molded by words and the way that we're treated? Especially through the first 20 years of our lives? Are we really these fragile emotional things, or do we start out as tiny warriors collecting Battle scars to fight our way through life later? As a woman from a vastly different generation growing up, who also happens to be raising two little daughters. I have come to the realization that you can raise them in a perfect home, with perfect words and perfect routines. They will still inevitably be damaged, or at least affected, by the outside world. It actually happens to be one of my biggest fears. I know all too well that crunching, terrible feeling of rejection or insult or injury. But, they will grow and they will collect their own memories. Their own seemingly insignificant scars that may or may not turn into bigger things.

Everything that happens to us in life, whether self-inflicted or out of our control, is a learning curve. Every thing that happens to us will ultimately result in a reaction from us. And many of us, like myself, will take certain points in our lives that were terribly detrimental (or maybe not so much) and hang on to that like it's the last vine before falling into a pit of lava. Because, sometimes being bitter and having an excuse is easier than just accepting ourselves for what we are. Continuing on because, no matter what we do, the world keeps moving whether or not we are participating. Be gentle with yourself. Embrace all of your memories as if they are the blocks that have built you, up until this point. All of the lost pets, the turned down dates, the last dances and the harsh words. When they come to visit, don't shut them out. It's better to face them as they come, than it is to run into unknown flames to escape them. Trust me.

Sincerely,

Me.

Dena Danzig is a Yoga Teacher of almost 20 years. A mother. A wife. A Recovering Alcoholic. Dreamer of Dreams and sharer of stories. Please consider leaving a tip here on vocal to support my writing.

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