Metamorphosis: One Woman's Journey to Find Serenity & Empowerment - Softcover

Relihan, Sue

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1504348915 ISBN 13: 9781504348911

Verlag: BalboaPress, 2016

Inhaltsangabe

Sue spent a lifetime being invisible.

Metamorphosis is a deeply vulnerable account of Sue's journey as she attempts to find love and success. She shares how she became accustomed to paying a high price for acceptance.

Sue intertwines her pursuit of professional success and her quest for love from a Native American man who could not openly acknowledge his love for her to his closest friends and family.

When she and Michael were alone their relationship was magical, spiritual and deeply fulfilling, but ultimately it represented her invisibility and her willingness to pay for love.

In the same way at the height of her career Sue was considered a national expert on law enforcement policy, but she never completely fit in, spending most of her career hiding behind a façade she created for her own protection. When Sue got sick in 2009, all of her worlds collided and she could no longer live life in the same way. It was time to decide if she wanted to wither inside her cocoon or choose to begin to live and thrive.

Über diesen Titel

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Metamorphosis

One Woman's Journey to Find Serenity & Empowerment

By Sue Relihan

Balboa Press

Copyright © 2016 Sue Relihan
All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-5043-4891-1

CHAPTER 1

My invisibility began in vitro. In a perfect world I would have been my parents' third daughter, but a few years before my birth, my mother had experienced a stillborn delivery after a car accident. It happened during the third trimester of her pregnancy. A drunk driver hit her and killed both the baby and my mother's soul.

Later, when she found out she was pregnant with me, my mother was no longer able to form a close emotional bond to her pregnancy. She was still in the throes of the trauma from that accident.

My mom never completely recovered emotionally. Home movies show me, at nine months old, fussing and crying, and my mom passing me off to my twelve-year-old sister to be comforted.

I don't have many childhood memories of being nurtured by my mother. The agony of the miscarriage had broken her spirit.

My dad was dedicated to providing for our family, but was at times a workaholic. By the time I was five, he had been promoted to the rank of captain with the Colorado State Patrol. I was proud of him. Every week I watched as he polished his badge and shined his uniform gear. He taught me a somewhat fearful respect for the firearms he carried. No matter what happened, I knew he would keep me safe, albeit from an emotional distance.

I was a very active and energetic young child. It was always a joy for me to play outside. A lunchtime game of tetherball was a lot more fun than sitting and eating my sack lunch. I loved running around the bases when we played softball during gym; even though I wasn't always very fast, it was the wind on my face that made feel alive.

Yet, I so wanted more nurturing. I turned to members of my mother's immediate family. My favorite was my doting Aunt Irene. She was both my source of fun and of comfort. She would take me to the park and push me on the merry-go-round and let me swing high into the sky. I remember how one day she painstakingly removed cactus needles from my backside when I accidently fell into the neighbor's flower garden. She was my rock until I was eight, when she died suddenly from a blood clot to her heart. If my mother had been disconnected before, there was barely a thread tying her to motherhood after her sister's death.

My own sister went off to college the same year. Suddenly my emotional support fell back to my mom, but she struggled to handle my energy. She just didn't have the emotional capacity to be fully present.

As a result, I found my solace in food. The next few years I openly used sugary food as a substitute for love. It became a substitute for the hugs and affection I longed for from my parents. It also gave me a lot of energy, but being too active was not acceptable in our household. I knew in my heart I needed to tone down my energy.

When I turned ten, my mom took me to the doctor for a physical because I was already starting puberty. I remember the doctor's cold eyes as he examined me to see if I was about to start my period. I'll never forget the tone of judgement in his deep voice when he said, "Yeah, you'd better stock up on some feminine hygiene products."

At the same appointment he also determined I weighed more than I should have at my age. He and my mom decided I needed to get a handle on my weight before it got too out of control. He sent me home with a prescription for an amphetamine diet pill and a special 800-calorie-a-day diet designed for kids. The next few months were pure hell. Even with the high-potency diet pills, I was constantly hungry. My hormones were changing and I was missing the nurturing I received from food.

While my mom couldn't connect with me emotionally, somehow, amidst the insanity, we connected when she tried to control the size of my body. She was hell-bent on keeping me from living life as a "fat girl."

"No one likes a fat girl as much as they like a thin girl," she said one day as we were headed to the doctor's office. It was her warped incentive to keep me compliant on my diet.

It wasn't long before dieting turned into a game between my mom and me. She would take me to the doctor every two weeks to be weighed. If I had lost weight, she'd reward me with a trip to Dairy Queen. Within a couple of months I learned how to manipulate the results; by putting my finger on the side table next to the scale, I'd make it look like I weighed just a pound or two less, so I could have my reward.

I couldn't outwardly get the love I longed for, and I couldn't eat what I desired. So, instead I began to master the art of invisibility while sneaking cookies.

In the corner of our kitchen, there was a large ceramic cookie jar full of my favorite forbidden treats. Supposedly it was kept stocked for my dad. Over the next few years, I learned to walk into the kitchen in full view of my parents, sneak over to the cookie jar, open and close the ceramic lid, and saunter away with a handful of cookies. Neither of my parents noticed.

I was taught at an early age how to mask my feelings, to be quiet and pretend that everything was all right, when in reality I was living with a deep sense of pain and loss. These feelings eventually turned to shame because I could never get my weight down to a size that pleased my mother. My mask covered the pain and shame that followed me through my lonely existence in high school and college.

CHAPTER 2

After college, I tried to find a job that put my psychology degree to good use. After several months of being turned away from human-interest jobs, I was frustrated and somewhat desperate to find employment. One day my dad came home and said there was a temporary position available where he worked.

He'd retired from the State Patrol a couple of years prior and taken a position with the Arapahoe County Sheriff 's Office. He was their first Work Release Coordinator. We used to joke that he spent thirty-two years putting people in jail, and suddenly it was his job to help them get out. That particular day he'd been talking to the undersheriff and found out there was a temporary position available in the Records Section. The job was mine if I wanted it, and he thought I should take it.

Believing it was just temporary, I agreed. I literally walked in the back door the next day, still invisible, bypassing all the traditional hiring practices.

About a week later one of the big burly bosses came to the Records window, leaned in, and informed me he had just made me a full-time permanent employee.

"You're welcome," was the only comment he made as he walked off.

I asked my supervisor what had happened, and she merely shrugged and said, "You know as much as I do. Let me try to find out".

She came back a little while later and told me it was merely a paperwork formality, and the only difference was I would be able to get benefits in thirty days. Otherwise everything was the same.

I was completely confused, and asked my dad about it later. He told me not to worry — it would all work out in the end. He was right, when the Records assignment was over, I moved on and spent two years doing special projects for the administration.

I've always felt grateful to Sheriff Pat Sullivan for hiring me, literally, sight unseen. Throughout the '80s and '90s, Sullivan was an enormously popular presence in the Denver area. During the early years I worked for him, both he and our agency had outstanding reputations. To that end, he had received the Sheriff of Year Award from the National Sheriff 's...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: BalboaPress
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2016
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1504348915
• ISBN 13: 9781504348911
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 210
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: Nicht verfügbar