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  • Writer's pictureEmily Royce

My Biggest Fear No More

*Physical and sexual violence trigger warnings. Please reach out if you need to process after reading.*

I am going to ask you to suspend your perception of what you think reality is and go on a journey with me. One that begins in what feels like my first lifetime. And the trauma that occurred there that I have been avoiding in every lifetime since. That I have been coming back for to face, to transform. And at the same time have been protecting myself from, as my body remembers and does not want to go back.

I was a powerful and knowledgable High Priestess, presiding over a temple in the ancient world. Greece? Egypt? I would dismiss this as a spiritual world cliche if it did not feel so true in my body. I have worked with three healers who have brought up this lifetime and it’s occurrences, without my prompting. When I go back to this lifetime, I see an incident where I am gang raped by many men. Men intimidated by my connection with Universal energy, with my knowingness of my own power.

Rape has always been the form of violence that makes me burn hot, can get me to a sobbing puddle on the floor or a raging warrior ready to destroy the perpetrators. I was raped in college and have dealt with a large dose of unwanted touch and sexual harassment. But I knew these “real” triggers of this lifetime were not where this trauma response and passion were coming from. It has always felt like a key to unlocking my healing, a core part of my existence. I knew it ran deep.

I was a sexually curious and very alive child. Around the age of eight, it became a pattern where I was “caught” touching myself or engaging in sexual play with friends. The response was usually silence but looks that I interpreted and internalized as shame. I was not supposed to be in this power, to know what pleased me and embrace it. It is at this age that my body developed a chronic vaginal and vulvar pain disorder. As if to ensure that I would stay in my place, that I would not seek out sexual gratification, and thus my feminine power. Because I am in too much pain often for the situation and the partner to feel safe enough and then to receive it can feel like punishment rather than pleasure. I believe this instant body protection at an early age stems from my first-life trauma. I believe I have done a variation of this every lifetime in between.

I was told by a healer before I left Boston that this would be the lifetime that it would all come together, that I would heal from this fear. I experienced that this week and here is my story.

There was a young man, a relative of the family, staying in the same home as me. Saturday he was asked to leave because he would not help out. Sunday he returned, broke in, and entered my room while I was in the bathroom. I could hear my electronics being collected. It did not sound frantic, there are a lot of open doors here, I did not panic but I knew something was not right. I ran, I caught him in the hallway. I grabbed him with such force that he dropped all that he had taken. But then the punches that rained down on me came fast and violent.

I was flooded with self-love. A deep deep knowingness that I did not deserve it, that this desire to break me down was not right. Because that is what it was. I know why the blows he dealt were to my head, despite me being taller than him. I am told often in Guinea how intelligent I am. I know it is admired, or hated. I know what it represents and the power it provides to women here.

It is an interesting observation for me to witness how I did not fight back physically. I was hard on myself, feeling like a pushover in such a femme force country. I chastised myself for not using the self-defense moves I inherently know, or just my sheer brute passion. But that is not what I felt. I felt the love. I saw the look in his eyes. I saw what he was afraid of. What I had and what he did not. And it was not the electronics. Because those were lying on the floor. And at any point, having proven he was physically more powerful than me, he could have leaned over, retrieved them and ran off. But he didn’t. He stayed. And in this remembering, I realize I did not retrieve my things and run off either. In fact, I think I was holding on to him the whole time. My body seemed to decide that I was ending this karmic cycle here and now, and that he was to be the teacher sent as a gift so that I might witness that another being will never have power over me again. Because I will never give it.

One healer I worked with in Boston channels spirits and what came through during our session was compassion for these men because their pain ran deeper than anything they could inflict upon me. At the time, I called bullshit. But I witnessed this in the eyes of this young man. He was suffering deeply. In the few days following I had the understandable trauma triggers; thinking I saw him, jumping at noises near my door, hearing his name everywhere. But last night I held court in the house alone, with the power out and my phone on 10% and I was not afraid. Because I have faced that fear and it did not destroy me. I am stronger and braver than ever. My head and heart are tender but healing well. I am not taunting danger but I will no longer tone myself down to make others comfortable. I love myself, who I am, and this week I got to experience this being put to the test while at the height of my power in this lifetime. And I got a bold haircut and danced bigger and decided I can do anything I want. And I will. The Priestess is BACK.

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