Awaken

I fell back in love with San Francisco, with you. You helped me close my chapter there and start fresh and new in Los Angeles. I thank the universe for sending me a nice human, a sober human, and an intelligent human with dreams. After I had caused chaos in my own family and tormented those close to me with my own despair, I had a glimmer of hope. And it was you. Sorry to have put all that pressure on you, but I thank you for getting me clean and sober, down to Los Angeles, and leaving me at the perfect time.

That day I drove away, you were standing in the middle of the street waving goodbye. I could barely see you in the rearview mirror because my eyes were clouded with tears. You wanted NYC and I just wanted you to be happy. But I knew that I had to stay in LA. Something was keeping me here.

After he and I broke up, I found myself questioning my move to LA. Did I do it truly for myself, or was it for him, for his hopeful dreams here? Was dance something I truly wanted to pursue? Were the new friends I was making going to be as good as the ones I had back home? Was I going to be able to stay sober without my sober boyfriend watching my every move?

Luckily, I was living with an alcoholic roommate at the time. The empty chip bags and beer cans near his lifeless body on our living room couch turned out to be the only reminder I needed to keep me on my path. I never went to AA. I did it cold turkey, on my own, through the power of courage, and hope.

Usually after a traumatic breakup like this, I would seek out sex with random men to fulfill the void. Or go on an absolute club bender. You know the ones... get off at work at 4:00 pm, get to the bar by 5:00 pm, and stay till 2:00 am? Everyday. No? Just me?

This time, it was different. I had to keep the facade up that I was this “earth angel,” sober, kind, and intelligent. My new community hadn't a clue of this club-monster I was in San Francisco. Even if I did it behind closed doors, I felt like they would eventually figure me out and then I would be in the same mess I was in, in San Francisco.

So I met this girl at the hotel I worked for at the time. Her name is Chantelle. Chantelle is a devout Christian, and all around good person. I felt like I needed someone to hold me accountable for this new lifestyle I was about to embark on, someone innocent, someone who does philanthropy, someone who knew snippets of my story from my past but believed in the greatness of my future. This was that person. So earlier when I said I did sobriety by myself, I lied. I had Chantelle.

It was awkward at first because I was nervous to open up to this sweet virgin of a 22 year old about my dark tendencies. But I knew I was going to be safe, because she made me feel safe and seen. Also I was crying everyday at work over my ex, I just had nothing to lose.

I told Chantelle how I wanted to stay celibate for a year. So that I might find myself again. Rather than giving my broken heart to others in a dark space. I remember Chantelle being so proud of me and thanking me for being so vulnerable. She told me she would pray for me, but also that she “would not remind me” and that she would just trust that I would be doing exactly what I needed to find this clarity.

So hitting the bars after work became pie and coffee and walking around DTLA with Chantelle and our other beautiful friend, Lola. The tendencies to download Grindr and hookup with men became me training hard in dance classes with my other chosen family. The urge to masturbate in the mornings became coffee and sunrises and meditation. The urge to eat unhealthy and fuck around at night became random movies or rollerskating with my new found best friend, Ramon.

A couple months in, I had never felt so good. I felt clearer. I was calling in new friends in abundance. I was never scared that people would find a darker side to me and stop talking to me because there were no receipts! The facade that I was putting on in front of everyone started to become my reality. I was no longer acting.

In this time period, another person entered my life: Mav. Mav got hired at the hotel and we immediately fell in love as friends the day we met. Our managers did everything they could from getting us to stop talking to each other but what they didn’t realize was the customers LOVED how much we loved each other. We would both greet customers and make jokes about how we should probably get back to work rather than making people laugh and have fun upon arrival at the hotel. Mav created a safe world for me to be around him. It was like having a new friend in middle school. You would talk all day, pass notes in class, then as soon as you get home, call to talk on the phone until you fall asleep. Truly, an angel and I’m forever in his debt for his kindness.

One day, I’m walking home after work and Mav calls me explaining what went down in his therapy session that day and starts to talk to me about more in depth personal matters. I’m listening but also something inside me starts to bubble to the surface. As Mav explained about their trauma, I felt the air from my lungs start to seep away, my eyes start to water, and my body goes numb.

Mav is still talking to me on the phone and I’m trying my best to listen but I’m being pulled back in time to when I was 21 during the height of my depression and alcoholism and witnessing a close relative who at the time was 20 years older then me; sharing a sexual encounter. In that very instant I replayed the entire situation, I replayed the molestation. I “woke up” from a trauma slumber.

There is silence.

“Kyle, are you ok!?” Mav asks.

I’m choking on my words, because for the first time I’m about to out myself as a victim of sexual abuse rather than normalize what happened and bury it back deep down inside myself.

“Mav, I think I was molested,” I said.

Mav responds, “Kyle, are you ok? Do you need me to come to you?”

The tears start pouring down my face as I explain to Mav what happened.

I would like to preface this next part by saying I’m tremendously lucky that the person whom I first told about this instance was also a person of like minded trauma. Mav had been in therapy for a few years already and seemed well-equipped to listen carefully and respond with grace so that I wouldn’t feel further shame and try to bury my feelings again. Even though what was to come was going to be a lot of pain, he knew that healing the pain was the only way up.

Too many times people have spoken up about their trauma and are met with questions and comments. Are you sure you remember? Well, how did you end up in that position? You shouldn’t have drank that much! Aren’t you scared to confront them? What will you tell your mother?

These questions and concerns only bury the person's Trauma deeper and deeper and create more shame around the instance. If someone ever opens up to you, simply listen, and tell them you love them, they are seen and heard, and that you will support them in their quest back to themselves.

Trauma manifests in many ways. Either right after it happens, or later in life. It will show up in your addictions, in your negative coping mechanisms, in your abusive relationship patterns, in your shopping sprees when you’re already in debt. Or worse, in unspeakable acts. At some point, you must face your demons head on. It is unfair that they occurred to you, but it will make you a stronger and dynamic human being, more resilient to life's trials and tribulations. Example? I don’t know how to survive a Pandemic?

After telling Mav what went down all those years ago, I ask him. “Is this sexual abuse? Is what I experienced my fault too? What should I do? I’m terrified..”

Mav gives me a phone number to his therapist. A therapist who specifically deals with childhood trauma and sexual abuse cases. I take the number and I try to calm myself down the rest of the night. But I just remember I cried and cried and I was so terrified that after five years of burying this information it for some reason finally appeared into my life.

I think to myself, “I’m not even successful yet, I don’t have the money for therapy, what am I going to do?! What if this holds me back even more from achieving my dreams, I’m already sober, isn’t that enough?!”

I eventually fell asleep.

I woke up. It’s a new day, the sun is shining into my room so beautifully and for a second, I feel that everything is back to normal and I’m totally happy and everything is going splendidly and according to plan.

Then it hits. A dark cloud comes over me. I’m not okay. I realize that all my days will now be different.

I bring the extra weight to work where people can sense something is wrong. But I try my best to shake it off, and be that bright smiling Kyle everyone knows and loves so much!

I finally clock out, the longest working day ever. My call with this therapist is at 4:00 pm, It’s 3:30 pm. I started walking around downtown Los Angeles.

I start thinking about my past year, my breakup, the new friends I’ve made, my first whole year as a sober person and take a second to appreciate what I’ve done thus far. I think to myself this is just another addition to my journey, this will not end me. I’ve already been through some crazy shit, this will only add to my expertise. A (323) number calls my phone, It’s him.

I answer and immediately I already feel validated just by hearing him say, “Is this Kyle?” I start to tear up. The relief is already instant. This person is going to help, I can feel it.

In the conversation, I explained to him what happened when I had this epiphany and my back story. He listens closely and doesn’t say much. After the conversation is over, he asks for my email so he may send a questionnaire called a “life script” to me. So we can skip over the long introduction and get to my healing ASAP. We set up an appointment for the next day and I head back to my job to print out the Life Script.

I take the Life Script back to the hotel to a dark corner in the mezzanine before the restaurant opens. No one is present besides the bartender who is setting up for the night ahead. I begin to fill it out. Age, Preferred Gender, Family Size, Hobbies, Addiction Issues… The script seems very straight forward. Then, towards the end, a specific question hits me. Have you ever been sexually abused previous to this occurrence?

The mezzanine seemed to darken. I feel myself go back in time again, to a place where I can feel my face pressing up against a window in the backseat of a taxi in a very uncomfortable position, almost fetal like. In my mind, a man screams as he ejaculates. I’m in Golden Gate Park, I’m 15. It’s 2005. But now, It is 2015. 10 years had passed. And I had forgotten about this as well. I had been sexually abused before. And I also buried it. The tears fell from my face.

The next day I come into work, I clock in and walk through the maze of the underbelly of the hotel, in silence. I pass by familiar faces and I have a hard time getting hello’s out yet again.

I get to the desk, Chantelle is there standing upright, twirling her hair. “Hi, friend,” she says calmly and with such love.

From that moment on, my healing journey really began. Sobriety cleared the fog of my subconscious, and my Los Angels lifted me up and out. The clarity I’ve received in the six years from owning my truth and having a professional guide me through my pain has been immense. I still am not at the height of my career, nor am I at some spiritual awakening or “best shape of my life,” although I do feel like it has given me the tools to enjoy all the little wins I’m met with each day. It has also strengthened empathy, awareness, patience, and overall joy. Healing trauma seems to be a lifelong sentence. It never truly “goes away”. You just understand that the painful energy put into you is not a part of you. The healing energy, the after effect, is the tool you will use in your everyday actions.

And now, when I see a person in pain, or when someone is trying to harm someone, or me I ask the question... “What happened to you?” It brings me back down to earth, rather than being tossed into their flurry of pain and hatred for their unique perspective.

To my younger self.

I see you pop up in yesterday’s and today’s tendencies. I understand why now you admitted yourself to such risky behavior, and acted out in ways that don’t reflect the bright soul that you always have been. So everyday that you do cry out, and want to slip back to doing something that might numb the pain a little bit, I’ll be there to hold your hand if you want to proceed in hopes that you’ll understand that it is not your story, and the action is not a resemblance of you. It is a manifestation of pain. But when you’re ready to walk away from the pain, into the territory you haven’t set foot in yet. I will light the way. I will utilize all the conscious tools I’ve gained, and lead a path forward to the great unknown. I will be your home, and you mine.

I love you Kyle, and to all of those who understand the pain in whatever capacity. XO