Taking back territory

One day I figured out that my whole adult life I had been claiming back inner territory involving my sexuality and my freedom to love. I wrote to my therapist, Joe Trusso, and asked him if he thought this was always the case, or would be. In a repressive society, he said, probably.

One problem we have is we don’t know what’s been taken from us. How could we? Who would tell us? We have little concept of what emotional bonding or sex were in more evolved or peaceful or less patriarchal societies would look or feel like. We have only hints of sexual reality in the pre-Christian era, though the few clues we have suggest that it was considered normal rather than controversial. We don’t know what it’s like to be in a world where men and women experience equality or level ground; or parallel opportunity; the equal right to exist and to be cared for by one another; the right to approach one another in social encounters on level ground.

We have only faint clues, if any, what it could be if we opened to even part of our stolen or concealed potential — though as we take territory back, we get bits of information. That may come from subtle levels of awareness like what our DNA, our dreams, our senses and or art tell us. I think we also get pointers as to how far we have to go, and how challenging it is to find freedom and hold that space open. I trust that every person on some level feels that longing for freedom to share, to receive, and to be more authentic despite whatever may be preventing that.

The stolen territory has as its boundaries guilt, shame, ‘body issues’ and other forms of self-hatred; as well as embarrassment and the fear of being found out for whatever secrets we might be holding or facts we might be afraid to let on about. It is reinforced by various forms of past abuse, including rape and childhood sexual abuse; the guilt trip of religion; and many others that work like ‘the shame that binds you’. Most of the time we skirt around the tiny interior of this boundary, rarely if ever entering the vast landscape that exists beyond these shadow borders. In my experience, most people have some aspect of their sexuality they are ashamed of or that disgusts them: some thought, action, physical attribute or tendency. That does not make it disgusting in truth, but we would need to confront the judgment before we can set it aside.

So much of this is bound up in this vast crisis of self-esteem that many generations are caught up in. By self-esteem, I mean the recognition of oneself as a valid, worthwhile human being. I mean oneself as worthy of love

To free ourselves, I think that sooner or later it’s necessary to enter the forbidden area. This can feel like a plunge, a dangerous journey, a flirtation with disaster, the most creative moment of your life all at once — moving into the inner truth, into some secret desire, into embarrassment, into need that might (seemingly) get us shunned by our family or community (but which in truth rarely does). Some forms of this are easier now, some places: being lesbian, gay or bisexual is more accepted now than it was 10 or 20 years ago. Of the three, bisexuality is still the most controversial, particularly in the context of one on one relationships It’s possible, some places, to have health insurance cover a sex change operation.

Yet many other forms of the same thing — human desires that are marginalized — are still difficult or (depending on where you are) impossible to talk about.

Still, we often fear judgment for our feelings and we are taught to make ourselves wrong; to take the blame for other peoples’ perception of us. These range from those who love more than one person; who have large age differences in their relationships; who cannot abide any form of currently accepted, established relationship; to people who simply like sex and get judged to be sluts or womanizers regardless of whether they are considerate with others or not. There are people whose culture dictates they cannot question their marriage; many people who could but who are terrified of doing so.

We take small steps first; being honest with ourselves; speaking the truth in our relationships; associating with others who are willing to speak and hear honestly; observing the world with some clarity; setting aside concepts that others gave us, and which don’t work for us. There are no guarantees on this journey, indeed it’s one of the most perilous psychological unknowns we might ever encounter. To take one step is to risk this thing called ‘ego death’. But I sense that for a significant number of us on the planet right now, we have no other choice but to step out of what is known and familiar and not working. The more of us who do this openly the more company, support and chances to connect with one another we will have. Even if, on the way to getting there, we have to go it alone for a while, because better that than to live a lie.

Starry-eyed an’ laughing as I recall when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we listened one last time an’ we watched with one last look
Spellbound an’ swallowed ’til the tolling ended
Tolling for the aching ones whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an’ worse
An’ for every hung-up person in the whole wide universe
An’ we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing.

— Bob Dylan, Chimes of Freedom, 1964 (you can hear the whole song here)