I have always referred to my emotions as “my voices” and quested to have pain mute them–or at least tame them to a dull rumble. While I realize this is not a unique characteristic among masochists, I have resolved to venture into the thought process behind my shame anyway.
I’ve never worked through the “why”, but perhaps I should start by defining the difference between two very distinctive emotions: shame and guilt.
Guilt stems from having done something bad. Shame stems from being bad. Simply put, “I did something bad” versus “I am bad”. Guilt comes and goes for me, but it’s the shame that lingers and has defined me for over a decade.
What was the genesis of this shame? Was it the 1st rape or the ones after? Was is the first man who physically abused me without my consent or the ones after? I think it could be anything. I had a candid conversation with my mother last night after finally getting the opportunity to do the same with Master. She asked me, quite blatantly, “Minx, how is it that so many of the men you have been with have ended up being gay?”
“I have no idea, mom. None whatsoever.” My eyes glossed over remembering their names: Jeremy, Matt (not that Matt), Patrick, Terry (I moved to England for him, talk about finding out the hard way, but that’s another story for another day), Jay (my first husband) and David (my second husband).
I realized then that it was not a singular event that made me feel shame, it was who I became as a result of those events that made me feel shame.
For a very long time, I was a very bad person. I had not been faithful to a single man until He claimed me. People did not matter to me and I viewed emotion as weakness. I am evolving. I told Him from the start that I wanted something different and I have endeavored to be honest with Him, telling Him the truths about who I was, my shame, the wretched things I did to men. I took a risk there I had never taken with anyone. By giving Him those truths all those months ago, I was lowering my self-defense mechanisms.
I wish I could say that it was some cathartic experience I needed for myself, but that was not why I did it. I did it for Him because (cliche as it may sound) He asked for my honesty and that was what I was going to give Him.
I am going to let my shame go now. Whether or not He chooses to trust me wholly despite my past is not in my hands. I can only do what I am able.
“I cannot make you any promises.” He said.
I don’t want promises. I just want You to be whole and happy.