Lynse Leanne

I shared my story out loud for the first time ever. Consecutively. There are people that know the bits and pieces that put all together help to create a glimpse of who i am. But I have never, out loud, in my voice shared my story. I wrote it down. I posted it on here. And for me that was relatively easy.

You see, writing is very easy for me. To write my deepest feelings comes natural. Sharing them online is a little harder but most certainly leaps and bounds easier than vocalizing them.

in my 24 year old brain saying something out loud has such power. It makes it more real. It leaves me feeling more exposed. I can hide behind my computer screen and type things out and click “publish” and there it goes. I dont see people reading it. I dont see their reaction. I may hear about it, but I’m not there when they read it. So they cant hurt me. They cant reject me. It’s very safe.

But a while ago i took a step out of my comfort zone and i shared my story out loud. I had been walking each morning with a lady from our church here whom is older than me and has grown children. Her life has been one of ups and downs, like most peoples. She was real and she was willing to speak very freely about her faults and failures. Because she was so open with me i wanted to return the favor. and i knew she would be safe.

I thought, how hard could sharing my story be out loud? I mean, i blogged it and people read it and I am fine. It’s already out there.

But the day came when i had decided i would share.

i froze.

I babbled and stalled.

I brought up small talk throughout our walk to hopefully run out of time to be able to share my story. I had let the fear of sharing with her face to face stop me from sharing the things that i went through and have built me.

I went home very frustrated with myself because i couldnt even share out loud the things that happened. I was scared to connect some of the words like sexual abuse or drug addiction to myself out loud. As if it would make it more real than it already was. I was scared to see her reaction.

What if she judged me?
What if she didn’t want to go walking anymore?
What if she saw me as needy?
What if….

So i went home discouraged and decided that no matter how uncomfortable it made me it wasnt an option. I would have to break my little issue and share it out loud. It was the next step in my healing.

The next morning we went walking and i made small talk for a bit and knew i needed to step out. So, i took a deep breath in and went into it. It took the duration of our walk to share it…the ins and outs. the hurts and dynamics. But i shared my story out loud.

in that moment i felt more free than i ever had. for the first time i shared in front of someone and she didnt judge me. she didnt think i was sick or twisted. she listened. she wanted to understand the things that make me, me. and it was fantastic.

have you shared your story? does sharing things out loud scare you like me?

It is not yet finished. I still have the colour and shading to get done….and that magic will happen November 19th. I debated sharing the story after that, but i am still getting people ask the meaning…so what better time than the present.

As many of you know i like to memorialize major events in my life by tattoos…hence the 9 that i have. ;)

This one is the one of most meaningful ones, and not just because it is the most recent but because of the story behind it.

The best way that i have learned to explain it is by getting people to picture the Wizard of Oz and the scene when Dorothy and the 3 companions are coming out of the dark forest and the Emerald City is before them.  It is beautiful.  They are coming out of darkness and all the struggle that happened throughout their time in the forest.  The Emerald City is in front of them, but as you remember from the movie they still have a journey ahead of them.  They still have struggles that they will face, but the worst is really behind them.  The darkness and despair and there is hope in their future.

I have always connected with that movie and i have always thought that part of the movie was the most majestic.  so much hope.

to me, the tattoo represents coming out of the darkness of my past and moving out from the shadow of it and living now and looking into the future.  i came to a point where i realized i was living in the darkness and the pity party and had to make a move out of it.  Through that entire season of moving past it i pictured this part of the movie.  The wonder, hope and awe that would come when i reached the end of that season and began to step forward into the light and all that is before me in my life.  So instead of getting that scene of the Wizard of Oz i had my amazing artist James mesh the concept and feeling i was going for into this.

The girl obviously represents me and the apprehension, hope, awe and wonder of what is to come, pausing at the end of the darkness to remember what was behind and the lengths traveled and the journey that was, but moving on into the next part of the journey.

So, that is the story behind it.

What is your favourite tattoo that you have and why?

A while ago i was having a conversation with someone about my story and they too were sharing theirs with me…but they prefaced their story with “my story was not nearly as bad and hard as yours.” as always i say something like “we each have our own journey and each person’s is different.” And honestly i didnt think a second more about it. We moved on and talked about the amazing things that God has brought both of us through and the grace that He has kindly lavished on us. We finished our coffee’s, left and carried on with our separate lives.

As my week continued the phrase “my story was not nearly as bad and hard as yours” seemed to be a theme. I started reading a new book called “The Kids are All Right” by Amanda, Diana, Dan and Liz Welch.

It is their memoir, all giving an account of growing up under the same roof but having very different memories and stories from the same times. But the title says it all, the kids are all right. No matter what they felt or remembered…even if it was different than their siblings they are all right. It was as if God was trying to get my attention. To speak something to my heart.

During Life Group a couple weeks ago we were talking about some situations happening in my life and the lives of those of us in the group and it came up again. “my situation is not as bad as __________. So i guess it could be worse….”

and in that moment i think the lightbulb came on for me. I heard what God was trying to say to me all week.

I always hear people comparing their stories….almost one upping eachother to see who has or had it worse. But in either case dont we all have it the worst?

In our circumstances. In our stories. In our pasts. in our present situations. It is our story. and we are right.

and for us in that time or this time it is the worst….for us.

statements like “my story is not nearly as bad or hard as yours.” is robbing yourself of the hardships and trials that you had to endure to get you to today. Yes, mine may be different than yours…but harder?

to you it is hard….and it should stay that way…

remember as you share your story and listen to others that we are all right.  we all have different levels that we can endure…we all have different lives and stories.

But we are all right.

Opening up and letting someone in started the long long road of recovery, the road that I am still traveling. Not only from self injury, but also from the abuse.

I can’t say that I am totally “over” the abuse, I think something like sexual abuse is something you carry with you your whole life. You may just grow detached as time goes on. I still daily deal with it. I still daily choose to forgive my abusers. I still daily face the lies I bought into. I still daily combat those lies with the truth of God.

Self injury is something that through God’s grace is behind me. After counseling and years of “sobriety” from it I can say that I no longer run to it for my first solution.

But to be honesty, I have hard times when I struggle with it and relapse. But I go to God and ask for His forgiveness, I confess it to a safe person and I move on, I no longer let guilt play in my mind, God has moved on… and so should I.

It has taken years to get to a place that I can even begin to think about sharing my story. I was 6 when all of this started and I am now 23….and it is only now that I feel strong enough to share.

Though it has been a rough fight I know that God has walked alongside me the whole time….and the times I couldn’t walk I know that He carried me.

As I continue to work through some of the lies I believed from other people or the lies that I told myself I have began to experience such freedom.

Chad and I work through the residue of this daily. I am still in counseling and it is a daily struggle I have to fight through.

Lies left un-touched for years become very hard to fight. They become ingrained in your life…everything. And it is totally unnoticed the more time goes on.

Through most of my life I have played the role of the victim. Because I kind of was, so I felt entitled to it.

But instead of carrying that through my entire life I chose to be a victor. I knew that God had something big for my life. And I woke up to the fact that I was choosing to hold onto it and stop God from doing big things in and through me.

So instead of sitting back and letting all of these things define who I am and change who God made me to be I chose to deal with them. Look the straight in the face and combat the lies.

I had a choice. I could continue to let it own me, define me and run my life….OR I could take a hold of God and fight through all of my junk. It was not and is not easy. But the freedom I have right now makes it worth it. And I know the longer I fight the more freedom I will know.

So today, October 29th, 2009 I would say that I am in a healthy place. I am still walking this all out. I am still learning what it means to live in freedom, in forgiveness, and without letting something totally define me.

I am learning to be me. The me that God made…not the me that I became because of circumstance.

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if you missed my story you can catch up here.
Part 1 – my first secret
Part 2 – it was who i was
Part 3 – the first cut is the deepest
Part 4 – I just wanted a friend
Part 5 – The Only Thing I Had

I never spoke a word about it. I was back to hiding my darkest secrets. The ones that were killing me the longer they stayed secrets.

I dove further into self injury. It became my obsession. It was the only way to get past that time.

I wanted to die because I didn’t even feel like I was alive. I was an empty body walking around.

So I would cut to see the blood. To know I was still alive.

Cutting became the only thing I had to look forward to.

The only thing that was positive in my life.
The only thing that stood by me.
The only thing that didn’t judge me.
The only thing I didn’t have to worry about leaving me.

It was safe.

I kept cutting secretly from 13 until 17. 4 years of silence. 4 years of playing the game.

I was in church by this point and if you were to ask anyone around me I was happy. Life was good. But deep down I was dead. Cutting was the only way I could fake my way through life.

But one Sunday my life’s course completely changed because a lady was bold enough to share her story….

I was in a small group meeting called Become. It was for girls and each week they had a different speaker come and share with the group. On this particular week a lady came and shared her story of sexual abuse. In high school she was raped. She shared her journey of healing through that. She seemed to have a normal life…a husband, 3 perfect children. But her story was a lot like mine.

For the first time in a long time I felt a little twinge in my heart. I like to think it was a spark of hope.

That day I opened the door to someone. I let someone in.

I was not sure what to expect. I just dumped that I was sexually abused and was heavily involved in self injury. I didn’t know if she was safe. But I did know that she had a story a lot like mine. I hoped should would have a soft heart.

After I got everything out she asked if I would like to get coffee that coming week. She wanted to talk more about everything and find out if I was ready to heal.

She was willing to just sit with me, to cry with me…she was content to just be with me. Whatever I needed from her she was willing to give.

Over time I grew to love her. We are still in contact to this day.

Trust took a while. I was still scared there would be some form of betrayal. Because what else could I expect?

Over the years I would spend time at her house, with her family and children. She was like a second mother to me. She was incredible.

But no matter how difficult I made it on her in the beginning she walked along side me as long as we lived in the same city. She was someone I could trust completely.

If I needed her at 2am, she was there. She was safe. She was just what I needed.

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if you missed my story you can catch up here.
Part 1 – my first secret
Part 2 – it was who i was
Part 3 – the first cut is the deepest
Part 4 – I just wanted a friend