The ReiQueer Pod Episode #6: Strength in Surrendering and Perfect Victimhood

I’ve procrastinated on writing this blog for so long that it’s fucking February LOL.

As of right now, episode 6 is our most played and the most resonate with our listeners. I suppose I told myself that I was letting the episode speak for itself. That no one reads these anyways. That I’ll get to it later, next week, tomorrow, January for sure.

No one talks about this part, but the aftermath of abuse is so very quiet. Quiet as in the absence of noise. Quiet as in the abrupt halt of the chaos. Quiet as in shut the fuck up. 

When I relistened to the episode just now, I sat completely still, taking in the words with closed eyes as if they were new to me. Listening to my own voice felt like listening to a sister. Honestly, I was shocked at the eloquence. At how articulate and careful and… normal I sounded. Though, I suppose we can circle back on my normalcy, or obvious lack thereof. 

I’m always in genuine awe when I listen to myself speak about my past relationship. There is so much of it that has been absorbed into my essence; the severity was porous and generous in its coverage. It tried to kill me and I let it. I surrendered. I integrated. I had nothing to say.

It was like my voice was trapped in a locket around the neck of my trauma. I couldn’t access it, but nonetheless it felt almost safer for it to be contained. In my arduous journey to restore my nervous system, I conceded to the quiet, save an angsty insta post here and there. 

Time, in all its glory, is the true hero of our tale. 

I bow to the feet of hours and seconds, which have gifted me delicious moments of kind forgetfulness, and the dissolution of memories and flashbacks that once gridlocked my heart and stole my sleep. 

These types of things change you. They burrow into your chest and spread to your extremities.The surrender comes from treating the trauma like a roommate. You have your place, I have mine, and the common area is where the party happens!

I have grown in around my wounds, each scar as permanently insignificant as an old stove burn or the reminder of that skinned elbow.

From my perspective, what I’ve been through isn’t necessarily about being brave and the theatrics of inspiration. 

It kind of just happened.

It kind of just is, now.

And I can find it in myself to say thank you for that.

Until next time,

Chloe, The ReiQueer