A couple of years after I graduated from college, Good Will Hunting hit the streets. If you haven't seen the movie, I encourage you to go to Netflix and watch it. It's a movie that's always meant a lot to me and has great acting to boot. It's a little hard to watch now, realizing the end that Robin Williams came to. He was such a brilliant actor. Any of us that had the pleasure of watching him saw his genius through his ability to make us laugh and to make us feel.
The thing I appreciated most about this film was how well I could relate to Matt Damon's character, Will. While I only briefly stayed in a foster home, and even though I was never the subject to knives and cigarettes, the abuse I endured was just as real, and just as hard to overcome. I understood exactly how his character felt when Robin William's asked him what his passions were and he was unable to answer (clip
here). I was just as clueless as Matt's character was. I had no idea what I wanted to do, because, like Will, I spent my time surviving the hell that I had been living in.
I've always referred to this mode as the "survivor mode". If there's anything I've learned, is that not all abuse is physical and even worse, not all of it is visible to the naked eye. So we don't always see what the person is struggling with. And for the victim, it is an all consuming nightmare. For me that meant I couldn't see past the hurt and the pain to even consider what my likes or my passions were. I only knew how to endure the pain, to survive. I couldn't even begin to help myself on overcoming it.
Problem is, no one in my life how to handle it either. Back then, it seemed that no one was equipped to handle verbal abuse or emotional trauma. In order to do so, we had to accept that it existed, that it was real. We also had to accept that it happened in a Christian setting, which many were unwilling to do. PTSD had just been discovered, yet it seemed that churches thought that PTSD wasn't real, that such problems could be solved through verses or corporal punishment. At least it seemed that way to me, and I had the bruises to prove it.
That's why movies like GWH were so important to me, because they gave me hope. Hope that in time and with healing that I would find that "special one" with whom I could share life. One that would accept every part of me, including the hard road I'd walked. The movie also gave me inspiration that eventually one day, I could have the chance to do what I liked to do, rather than having others think for me. That I wouldn't have to simply survive; that I could live life to its fullest, just like we were all meant to do.
It's been a long hard journey. I'm excited to tell you thought that I did get the girl, eventually. But just as important, I've found it what it was I was made to do. Forgive the length of the blog, but it's been such a long journey, and there's a bit more to say . . . Here's the story.
When I graduated from college in 1995, I was clueless, just like Will. I thought I could do just about anything, but had no idea what "it" was. So for lack of any other direction, I listened and followed the advice of others. Of course I didn't see it that way at the time and I thought that I would be happy. I'd eventually move to NC to take a teaching position, only to have the administrator who had hired me lose his position within weeks and ultimately I'd lose mine that same summer.
Needing a job, I enlisted at a local temp agency and within days found myself working for an attorney by the name of Jerry. I still remember it like yesterday. His secretary, Kay, was on vacation and would I fill in for her? Jerry was a great guy. We'd eat catfish, talk about the law and I fell in love with the profession. I did all kinds of work and loved every minute of it. I still remember our conversations, and was in awe of the work he did.
It was only a week's assignment, but we stayed in contact that summer, until I moved to Ohio for a teaching position. After all, that's what I had majored in, what I'd been told I was good at and what I'd majored in. What else could I do? So I said my goodbyes, packed my Carolina blue Taurus and drove to Cincinnati.
I tried the teaching next couple of years , but I didn't enjoy it. So I danced with the legal profession again, this time in the Government Affairs realm. It took me about a year to realize I wasn't qualified and needed more training. The problem at that time was I was 25 years old and broke. Even if I'd wanted to go back to school (which I didn't), I couldn't afford it and felt hopelessly lost. I began to wander aimlessly in my career path, listening to others' ideas and opinions about what I should do. I didn't know how to do it any differently.
To sum up those twenty years, it took a lot of healing and some painful growth to see what I was doing wrong. It took time to heal the past and learn what I liked, what my passions were. And I had help along the way. Some folks were instrumental in the healing process, of helping me to overcome the past and to listen to my heart. Others gave me the tools that I'd need to find my way, to learn who I was and what I was created to be. It was a fruitful journey and as I find myself at this crossroads, I pause to look back with an
extremely grateful heart.
The last six months of being unemployed have been hard. I've had to relearn some things, and made some hard decisions. I've not yet gone hungry and had a roof over my head to boot. But while the journey has been hard, seeing this dream accomplished in my life has made me realize that I would do it all over again. Yes you read that correctly -
every bit of it. I'd lose my job, feel hopeless, be angry and feel depressed again - if it meant being
here.
I realize this is all part of the journey - in fact, I see it as the beginning of a new path, a new adventure and the place where' I'm currently supposed to be. And I am so excited! If all works well, I'll start on my paralegal certificate early this summer and hopefully land a job soon thereafter. Right where I want to be, back in the law office.
So to Jerry and Laura and Robbie (and the many others), I say thank you - from the bottom of my heart. Without you all, this would have never been possible. Thank you for the fulfillment of a dream.
