In scriptwriting, be it for stage or screen, there is a moment wherein the story bursts forth, the drama continuing to deepen, grow, build until the rush of the climax, resulting in the resolution of the denouement. This moment is referred to as the "inciting incident".
In my life looking back, I can visualize my own 'monumental inciting incident', wherein from that moment forth all sense of who I am and how I orchestrated within my life changed. The day itself, February 24, 2013, an Oscar awards Sunday, yet I was not watching for I was giving the Oscar award winning performance of mine own on my front porch, tearfully with the pain repressed from over two years of an embittered battleground of a marriage involving a domestic abusive partner, I released all anguish, watching as what I once believed to be my first and truest love descend backwards and outwards of my life.
For my personal 'inciting incident', I knew of it not at the time, but rather knew only that I was finished, could no longer willingly receive the crazy-making, toxic abuse from my wedded partner in my own home, in my own heart, his torrent of abuse and psychotic lies pouring over me seemingly without provocation. No, on that Sunday in 2013, all I wanted was a relief, to breathe, to sigh, to sleep without fear...and so I did what I never imagined myself possible: I kicked my first love out the door of my life, my heart, and lived to tell the story.
Looking back now, I can see what I was unable to see then, the amount of steadfast and supportive love from new friends and faithful old who came around me in large and small ways. A neighbor holding me whilst I sobbed out tears, saliva, snot, a mess of all the build up from two years of trauma and torture, a friend sacrificing her Oscar viewing to listen and encourage, an old friend who I thought hated me on the phone encouraging me with kindness, emails pouring in from others. Then, in the days and weeks unfolding, an adventure of both high and low, laughter and sobbing would unfold. New room-mates would take over the apartment with me, whose presence in my life was filled with late night chats, living room dance sessions, laughing until all hours of the night, and encouragement of warmth when I sobbed, a kind hand on my shoulder when I awoke from a night terror, a leftover shred from the nightmare.
But, that moment of breaking free from my abusive ex-husband was larger than what it seemed at the time. In the weeks and months that followed, I began to see the other connections of which I had once held important and yet were at best toxic, at worst abusive. It was then in those early days after the dramatic monologue on Oscar Sunday 2013, that I began the painful process of deconstructing from the teachings of Christianity, fully seeing this fundamentalist worldview for what it was, what it became, and seeing that the practices they preached which would save were more barriers towards my freedom and fully knowing myself. Thus, I began the slow process of exploring, questioning, dipping my toe into conversation with "I was part of a cult", and finally finding connection with other like-minded souls who listened, who shared, and through our shared journeys laughing, we held each other finding shared healing. Sunday mornings were no longer a duty to be served, the Bible no longer the commanding truth, I no longer felt convicted for exploring my own wants or needs, and no longer labeling myself a "Jesus Freak" was not a death toll for my soul's march towards perdition. Today, I can cherish as a part of my personal soul journey, lovingly gifting those I traveled with the gift of gratitude.
The years tumbled forth and I continuously began the process of finding my voice, on stage, on screen, and in real life, increasingly I found love from a variety of faces, from those who had witnessed my great, big monologue, from those whose presence in my life was before, and new ones who joined alongside, all becoming a beacon of my coming more fully into myself, my power, my self love.
The truth I realize now is that it has been love that has sustained me throughout my life, even in the darkest of times, through times I could not see, that love was ever available. If for a season, it came from outward, those faithful who have walked with me, seen me at my darkest when I seemed unworthy, their belief in me and my worthiness of love never ceased. They saw me when I could not.
It was the greatness of love throughout all of my life that kept me persevering, kept me alive, gave me strength upon strength to overcome abuse, whether it be a toxic partner, a world-view, a friend, that love was great enough to sustain, to uplift, patient to wait.
Now, here I find myself, ten years later, feeling younger than I was previous, for I feel lighter and I find within myself that love, not only from an external source, but bubbling up from within.
