Month: May 2024

My mom was the most fun mom ever. She told scary stories and let us build forts with the living room cushions and furniture. She encouraged us to draw and paint and appreciated what we created. A framed abstract painting I made when I was four hung over the stove for years.

But she was also negligent. We were allowed to roam the neighborhood without saying where we were going. So long as we could hear the old cow bell that hung by our front door, we knew it was time to come home for dinner. Other times Mom would say, “Get away from me, you stink.” Or, she might say, “Go away. Leave me alone.”

I ended up homeless on the streets of San Francisco

I left her alone and she left me alone. When I asked at age fifteen if I could leave home she said yes, so I did. I ended up homeless on the streets of San Francisco trading my body for a warm place to sleep and food. In intimate settings with close friends, I sometimes pull out this period in my life as being my story, my what happened to me. But the real story is that I survived and eventually thrived. But only after I faced the deep pain of abandoning myself.

Once I started expressing the pain I had buried deep inside, I started to notice how poorly I treated myself and by extension other people. Turns out I was, like my mom, a narcissist myself. And then I started praying and believing that a higher power loved me and that I was a good person. Belief in my goodness and in other peoples’ blessedness has expanded over the years.

Too few of us believe in our powerful selves, which I believe is our innate state of being, God given if you will. I think most times we stay stuck in our stories. We focus on what happened to us rather than how good we are. When we are blind to that goodness, we hurt ourselves and those around us. I don’t understand how narcissists get to be that way, but I suspect it may be a cover up of poor self esteem? Self-hatred?

We are so much more than what happens to us

Like my mom saying, “You stink,” when I was ten years old and didn’t know yet that I did stink and needed to use deodorant, or bathe more often. Her words hurt me so much. I was mortified and humiliated. And deeply hurt. As if because my body stank, I was bad. We affect other people deeply in both negative and positive ways. We simply don’t see the detrimental and beneficial effect we have and the ripples of hurt or truthfulness we create throughout the world.

It took me years of therapy and experience to believe in my innate goodness; to believe I can be an agent for positive change and healing. We are so much more than what happens to us, so much more than our story. The real story, the truth about who we are is that we are spiritual beings powerful beyond belief.

Our capacity to influence others positively is beyond our wildest dreams. Do I act as if that’s true? I sure didn’t used to, but today I am conscious of my behavior and how I affect others. That’s the remedy for being a narcissist. We can be agents of healing and grace. Just by believing in our own brilliance, and believing it of others as well. That spreads joy.

To learn about my memoir A Minor, Unaccompanied, click here: https://pollyhansen.com/nasty-girl/

What people think of me is none of my business. And most times, they’re not thinking of me at all.  To think that I consume other peoples’ thoughts is the inverse of an inflated ego—it is a deflated one. Today, I live with independence of spirit where I no longer fret about what goes on in other peoples’ heads.

For example, the other day I was walking my two black dogs who look like small bears on leashes on a secluded, twisty road in my neighborhood when around the bend comes a speeding SUV. Being near the middle of the road, I didn’t know which side to take, left or right, and did a little dance as if dodging bullets. A middle-aged woman was driving with her window down. Whereas I gave an apologetic smile as she flew past, she scowled at me as if my dithering in the middle of the road was a huge offense.

Did she hate me?

I resumed walking but kept her in my thoughts, feeling chagrined about my behavior. What right had I to take up the road like that? Did she hate me? And then I caught myself and laughed. Her angry expression had nothing to do with me. She was probably already having a bad day, which was likely why she was speeding. I wished she might have a more pleasant afternoon and put her out of my thoughts.

Even with people I know, their thoughts are none of my business.

At the end of a small Twelve-Step meeting, four of us in attendance, one member stood to leave early. She hugged the two members nearest her, but not me.  A box containing literature stood at the center of our small circle blocking her way to me. As she left, leaving me hug-less, I patted her shoulder goodbye as she fled.  That’s how it felt–that she was fleeing. To avoid hugging me. Was it something I said? Had I triggered her in some way? After reviewing my behavior, I decided it was none of my business, and if it did involve me, she would let me know. I let go.

In the past, I might have called the woman on the phone and said, “I was very hurt that you left without giving me a hug, that you hugged the other two women. I felt left out.” That may be true, but I am a more confident person now. I am powerless over the actions and reactions of other people. Besides, it’s her right not to hug me if she doesn’t feel like it. She owes me nothing.

We needn’t take offense

Everyone is on a journey. We needn’t take offense at every little slight that causes momentary pain. And in this case that’s what it was, momentary, fleeting, and one of curiosity more than anything else.

I like this woman who left in a rush and am just getting to know her and she me. At present, I feel at peace with myself and confident that my higher power will let me know if I need to examine myself for any characteristics that hurt her unnecessarily. Over the years of examining my own actions, I have learned to accept who I am with equanimity, which means I am able to do the same for others.

To learn about my memoir A Minor, Unaccompanied, click here: https://pollyhansen.com/nasty-girl/

The day I returned to God once and for all was on a quiet Sunday morning in 2013. It was summer. I had walked into town for milk and was on my way home, enjoying the quiet and brilliant blue sky when, while walking past the empty train station platform, a loud crackle interrupted the silence. “ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS! ATTENTION ALL PASSENGERS! THE INBOUND TRAIN WILL BE DELAYED BY TWENTY MINUTES! The obnoxiously loud message repeated three times.

It jangled my nerves. How dare that stupid announcement disturb my serenity! The empty parking lot was a block long. I was in the middle of it when static crackled: “ATTENTION!” As before, the message repeated three times. It seemed to go on forever. I tried plugging my ears, which was difficult with a half-gallon of milk on my arm.

Blessed relief

Silence finally reigned once more. I tried to relax, but was resentful. Static crackled again. This time I ran from the hateful intrusion. Just then, a strong gust of wind came out of nowhere causing turbulence in my ears that completely masked the horrible announcement. Blessed relief! As soon as the announcement ended, the wind stopped. All was still. On I walked, grateful the wind had come at just that moment, and marveling at the coincidence.

And then I wondered as I approached the railroad crossing: Was that a coincidence, or something else? I stood on the incline from which I could see my house a block away. Was that you God?

Distinctly in my head, I heard, “It is if you want it to be.”

Tears stung my eyes. “Really?”

“Yes, Polly. I have always been here for you. I am here for you now.”

In that moment I surrendered to my faith in God and have never looked back.

Life on life’s terms

Trying to live life under my own power and control was exhausting and didn’t make me happy. The timing was exquisite, because one month later, a tragedy befell me that I believe would have destroyed me had I not returned to faith in a higher power. Surrendering to faith has given me the serenity I craved and the grace to accept life on life’s terms.

I used to believe only therapy and psychology could do that for me. I have come to believe only God can. I cherish my faith and am happier for it.

This line from a prayer by Sri Ramakrishna is still one of my all-time favorites:

 Kindle in me, O Lord, the blazing fire of faith to be the polestar of my life.

My faith is my polestar, guiding me in the dark. On cloudy nights when I cannot see it, I know it is there; I know my doubt will pass. God is here for us, guiding us. We need only to choose and listen. The outcome may not be what we expected or wanted, but it will always be what we needed.

You can use the passage above in meditation as prescribed by Eknath Easwaran. Follow this link for more information: https://www.bmcm.org/learn/getting-startedoverview/

To learn about my memoir A Minor, Unaccompanied, click here: https://pollyhansen.com/nasty-girl/

It was hard to admit I played a part in the sexual abuse I suffered as a teen. Finding what my part was changed my life. I found self-forgiveness, reclaimed my self-agency, and stopped feeling like a victim. Today, I’m a happy, confident person.

From age fourteen to age seventeen, I engaged in a sexual relationship with a man eleven years older than me who lived in my neighborhood. My family life was a wreck, my parents’ marriage was falling apart, and I had no friends my own age. Sex with “Hugo” was like a form of cutting, a way to numb the horrible loneliness I felt and convince myself I was loved and cherished by someone if not by my parents.

As an adult, it took years of therapy to recover from the pain of not just that experience, but what led up to it–my parents’ neglect. For example, when I introduced them to this guy saying he was my friend, they said he was charming and eccentric and an okay friend for me to have.

I finally began to know my boundaries outside my skin

In my mid-twenties I worked with a therapist who did body work to tap emotions locked inside muscle tissue. During one of our sessions, she did an experiment to find out where my physical boundaries were—at what distance did I feel most comfortable with people. She stood across the room and then approached me and asked me to tell her when she got too close. She got to within an inch of my face before I told her to stop, and even then I wasn’t sure.

“It’s as if your personal boundaries are beneath your skin,” she said.

It wasn’t until I joined a Twelve-Step program when I was in my fifties and did a Step Four moral inventory looking at all my so-called “character defects” and subsequently did a Step Five where I shared that inventory with a trusted friend that I finally began to see what my part was in the abuse.

Self-Forgiveness and Self-Agency Makes a Happy, Confident Person

During my inventory I made a list of resentments towards each man who had abused me—the name of the person, what the resentment was, how it affected my life, and my part in it. At first I thought, my part? No way! But I continued with the Step. It wasn’t just Hugo’s name on my list. After Hugo and even during Hugo, there were others. What I discovered was that I had given myself away each time. I had lost my voice and didn’t protect myself. I never said,  “No, I don’t like this. I don’t want this.” I let men use me however they wanted to.

That awareness was excruciating. I wept copiously. But the magic of Step Five was that I shared my shame with someone I trusted—my program sponsor in this case, who had done their own Step Five with their sponsor. They didn’t judge me, simply listened with tears in their eyes while holding my hand. I felt loved and accepted and so profoundly grateful to finally learn that I could take full responsibility for myself. I had given up my agency in the past, but that didn’t mean that I couldn’t take it back. I could and I did

I learned to say no—to friends, acquaintances, and most especially to my husband. I found that people who loved and respected me accepted my “no” and my boundaries. That has been so healing for me.

I refuse to abandon myself

Today, I maintain personal boundaries out of a healthy respect for who I am. If I don’t feel safe in a situation, like for example in a Twelve-Step meeting if someone is not following the sharing guidelines and I don’t feel safe, I’ll raise my hand and say so. When my husband used to touch me in ways I didn’t like, I kept my mouth shut for fear of hurting his feelings. Fear of abandonment was the real issue. Not today. I refuse to abandon myself.

I don’t have the power to change anyone, but I do have the power to protect myself. I forgive my parents for not showing me how to establish boundaries. Most of all I forgive myself for being a poor steward of me. Today I proudly and firmly take agency over my well-being.

To learn about my memoir A Minor, Unaccompanied, click here: https://pollyhansen.com/nasty-girl/

To learn more about teen cutting and self-injury visit:

https://www.mcleanhospital.org/essential/teen-cutting-and-self-injury