Why We Need to Share our Stories

Just before Christmas I shared some very personal information on my Instagram about the nature of my grief and the loss of my partner back in May of 2020. I shared about the true nature of my relationship with my partner - that he was abusive towards me, both physically and emotionally. That he gaslit me and betrayed me. He had an affair and he kept a gazillion and one secrets. After he died, more and more was revealed and I went down a rabbit hole for months trying to uncover everything. One thing led to another and before I knew it I was questioning if I ever really knew him. Another fair question to ask: Did he ever really know himself?

I received innumerable responses from followers, most of them supportive. And even more than that, many women shared their stories with me, of getting out of their own abusive relationships. Some of these women I knew, some were people I had never met in real life, all were grateful for what I had shared.

Over the last two and a half years, since my partner died, I confided the true nature of my relationship to many of my closest friends and family. I opened up more and more about it because I was exhausted from carrying the secrets. Grief is also exhausting and I couldn’t carry both by myself -  couldn’t carry the grief and the secrets and not collapse from the weight of it all. Most people I confided in were endlessly supportive, never doubted me, and thank goodness for that because while I was feeling a lot of relief in finally being able to share my story I was also saddled with a fair amount of guilt. The old adage “we don’t speak ill of the dead” has deep roots in this culture and there were times when I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing.

Slowly, as time passed, my need to confide in those closest to me lessened, but something else grew. It was a desire to share my story on a larger scale, and even within the context of Tangleweeds. My art has always been highly interwoven with the fabric of my life, and I was carefully excising a large part of it every time I jumped on social media to share something or wrote a Tangleweeds newsletter or shared the backstory on the inspiration behind some of my designs.

I can’t tell you how many times I bit my tongue and minimized my story when anyone at an event, or on Instagram, or in an email, asked about the inspiration behind my snake designs. The inspiration had come out of my own grief experience in loving and losing my abusive partner. But when anyone asked, I always focused on snakes as metaphors for transformation and metamorphosis, emphasizing that we had all collectively gone through a huge transformation through the pandemic. While all of that is true and is part of my story, it left out an enormous part of my personal story and journey.

Getting out of an abusive relationship doesn’t happen all at once and I had tried to leave my partner multiple times over, only to get drawn back in. Even though the way I was released from this nightmare was through his death, and it might seem like an “all of a sudden I’m free” moment, it wasn’t that at all. The trauma that remains is significant, and is going to take me a long time to heal. Creating the snakes was a symbolic way of me getting back in touch with my power and my authority and represented something much bigger than just myself or an attractive piece of jewelry. Creating these designs was integral to my personal transformation and metamorphosis. But when I left out this part of my story, I striped myself of the power of connection with others.

I don’t think we always fully realize what we are cutting ourselves of from when we keep other people’s secrets, as I kept my partner’s. I now see clearly that I was cutting myself off from true connection with others. From both receiving support from others and being able to offer it up myself. There are supportive and healing conversations that cannot happen in this life unless we talk about the difficult stuff. Which takes me full circle back to that series of Instagram posts. The messages I exchanged with women who shared their own stories of abuse offered me support and made me feel less alone. I hope that is what sharing my story did for them, even in a small way. I don’t think we can ever fully know how we positively affect change in others, or in this life, but that is the beauty in everything being connected in ways that we don’t completely understand.

I feel a little bit lighter these days, and the future feels brighter and fuller than I ever thought possible. That doesn’t mean all of a sudden life is easy, but there is a centeredness and a groundedness that I never thought was possible when my life was one traumatic event after another.

Before I wrap-up this post, I just want to say that I hope to share more of my story this year and in the years to come. I hope it can be a beacon for some who may feel lost. And my gratitude to all of you who walk this creative life with me is endless.