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If you are a trauma survivor and have symptoms of PTSD, it is likely that you are currently hiding from your own potential. This fact right here goes out to all of YOU right now who are holding back from your dream because you feel you are not yet READY. The truth is, you are. And life is waiting around for you to become perfect so you can start living. You are the one who is STUCK ON PAUSE. While it is just human to want to strive for perfection, someone with anxiety and depression will obsess over what perfect looks like and constantly stagger below what they even consider mediocre. It is really hard to believe in yourself and even on a subconscious level behave with confidence and self love after experiencing prolonged trauma. One of the hardest realizations I ever had, at 27 years old, was that I was completely in charge of my own success or failure. And I only learned it from hard experiences, even after hearing it throughout my life. The fact is, I am not perfect. But it is not because my mother told me so. Even though I was abused and tormented through childhood, I fought hard to have the autonomy I have now. To be independent and away from my abusers. And to live my own life. Which means the people who hurt me no longer have a hold over me. And I am just hindering myself when I let triggers break me down. I am NOT SAYING that I can magically overcome trauma and PTSD by just wanting to. What I am saying is I have a choice over if I am willing to let my symptoms have power over me or not. I may live with life long consequences of abuse, but can still be as successful as I push myself to be. So how on earth does a person with PTSD become aware of themselves, their setbacks, and what obstacles need to be overcome in order to achieve their dreams? Good fucking question. I am in the process of answering it all for myself. First, awareness. AWARENESS is when you can take a step outside of yourself and gain clarity on who you are in a multidimensional way. Once you see your flaws, you can learn how to fix them. Once you fix them, you can become successful, right? What about when your violet lenses portray your anxiety and depression through a plague of imperfections throughout your self image, both exterior and interior view? How can you decide what is a rational flaw from what is actually a flaw? And what the hell even is a flaw? Up until this year, I spent so many years telling myself I was not ready to succeed yet. Not until I: ■ Got smarter ■ Became stronger ■ Was prettier ■ Had a better voice ■ Had boatloads of confidence ■ Had straight teeth ■ Had fancy equipment ■ Had a degree or certificate ■ Had enough money ■ Did not have depression ■ No longer had anxiety And all of this was complete bullshit. While I think it is important we love ourselves and build up self confidence, I know it is unhealthy to fixate on the things we "think" are not good enough about ourselves. I also learned something super valuable, that now I cannot go back on. People like people who SHOW UP. Who are honest, dedicated, passionate, and persistent in their cause. And in no nook or cranny of that statement is there a requirement to be perfect. Just to be real. My heart has always been that of a Jaded Savior. Someone who wants so deeply and passionately to lead others and help those who are struggling. Also, someone who has time and time again grown tired of the systems in place [in society] that enable people to struggle and fail. Someone tired of all the pain and trauma. A woman who wants to show others how to rise up again and again, having resilience within this tough world. I want to become a great public speaker, published author, social worker and public influencer. But not so I can claim some fame or celebrity status. Not so I can swim in cash. I want a passionate, life long commitment to pursuing freedom and safety for people. I want to pursue truth. And then translate it into an intimate language that someone who has suffered in the ways I have can understand with their whole being, and then transcend their shit situation because of that empowerment. I kept putting this dream off, so I could do whatever I could to pay bills and survive. I kept putting this dream off to first become grounded with who I am, be satisfied with what I look like, and feel sure that others will accept me. I wanted to look the part and sound the part before jumping into my dream. Out of fear of failure. Or rejection. So I held back. Many nights I have written poems or stories in my head. I have thought up concepts and plans, business structures, and revitalizations of social programs to improve the effectiveness and success for recipients. I have rethought the CPS and family court system. I have rethought and reframed the way we view, diagnose and treat mental illness in this country. Heck. In this world. As the only child of two drug addicts with bipolar, schizophrenia, mania and depression, I had these thoughts. As a troubled teenager with depression and anxiety, cptsd, and then teen pregnancy, I lived through the public systems and was failed often by them. As a young adult, away from my abusers but making many poor decisions, I struggled with my identity and who I wanted to be in the world. Though I always tried hard to achieve goals like applying for degrees and going through Community college and a University to do so, I was held back by fears as well as real symptoms [because of trauma] I lacked complete awareness of having. I am damn proud of the ways I always leaped at opportunities. From interning, to writing for school papers, to in my own time writing and creating.
This passion to write and make art has oozed out of me since childhood. But when it came to showing to publicly, when it came to getting credit for my hard work or pushing myself to actually achieve status, I just stayed stuck on pause. I am now pushing myself to hit play already. To write these books AND release them to the public. To record a podcast, to spread my voice and my ideas. To take videos, in the now and regardless of how I look, so I can SHOW UP as myself. Truly myself. Without worries about who will like me. Without concerns about my body or weight. Without the self hate or insecurities, criticism or doubts. Whether I am all dolled up or chilling with no makeup on in pjs, if I got something good to say ----> I am going to SPEAK UP. Whether I am famous or no one knows who the fuck I am ------> I am going to STEP OUT of my comfort zone and make myself known. I decided for myself, that in spite of my flaws and my trauma, I am ready in the moment to be great. I am not going to get in my own way ever again. ♡ I am not going to idealize perfection and resist my own greatness. The greatest potential you have is just one moment away. One moment. And that moment is NOW. I am no super model. I have nothing to "sell". I make decisions based on intuition. I have tons of fucks not given. I swear and I have crude humor. I dye my hair any color I want and I don't always comb it. Sue me. I won't be buying any trends or begging to be anyones friend. And that is not some alternative lifestyle either. I am just tired of being anything other than me. I wear my husbands tshirts. I'm on a hiatus from bras and anything ending in "lettes" or "lattes". I binge Netflix and prefer most books read to me on audible because I am too ADD to sit and stare at a book. I have degrees but my job is based on passion and inner purpose, not a piece of paper. I have a life partner but our love is based on earning each other daily, not a stamped certificate. And I would get a divorce if he mistreated me. I would disown family for mistreating me. I am a survivor of trauma. Of child abuse, neglect, emotional and physical abuses. I am a survivor of lying and cheating boyfriends. Of almost fiances that could not bet their name on a nickel.
I support real, raw and good for you choices. If what I do is not REAL, RAW, AND ORGANIC then I do not want it in my life. That goes for food. That goes for people. That goes for business. That goes for lifestyle. So I don't want anyone's bullshit. I am not down for a competition. I am not looking for a battle. I am not in it to win. I do not want to gossip. I don't care who is dating who. I don't extend my nose passed my own face. I don't ponder the greener grass. I'm busy trying to water my own. So please don't offer me synthetic self esteem, beauty, or love. I am not up for catching up with anyone that ever left me: NOT EXES, OLD FRIENDS OR FAMILY. ----> Because the exit sign does not have a revolving door. I will never enable trauma, abuse, sexism, or any oppression's. I will not laugh at anyone's racist memes, because its just the "popular thing to do." I will say something if I see something. I will report your ass if you do bad shit. If someone steals from me, I'll take the compliment but leave ego at the door. I am not an original mind. I am a melting pot of the most beautiful concepts and positivity I can find, and my only wish is to offer what I create to those who believe in it. ♡
I say sorry a lot. And I mean A LOT.
All day long, I apologize to my husband and kids. I even think "sorry" during situations with strangers. What do I say sorry for? HONESTLY. FUCK!!... EVERYTHING. I say sorry for sneezing, for moving slightly past someone, for wanting to ask a question, for asking someone to pass me something, for having thoughts, for tripping, for seemingly nothing. Husband: comes into the room to ask me a question. Me: .... silent....silent... [glares with fawn eyes] .. sorry. Husband: what? Me: glares {shrugs awkwardly} This is a symptom of my PTSD. As a child, I always walked on eggshells. My mother was manic, bipolar, depressed, and an alcoholic. She was a workaholic and gone every day for 10 hours, then self medicated nightly. Everything made her mad. And she always looked annoyed or just off. Resting bitch face might be a joke to all of you, but for me it was the earliest sketch I did of "my mama" as a kid. She was very skinny, standing at 5 feet tall and dressed up in turtle necks with dress slacks or womens pants suits mostly. A chanel/coach inspired business woman with imaculate makeup and hair. But her rage and emotions were like a furry. For anyone who has seen Coraline, the "other mother" is what comes to mind for me years later. As a kid I even swore she was a witch. But being serious, she was always disappointed and angry with me. Everything I did set her off and quite often made her ground me or emotionally abuse me into a corner. That went on my entire life with her. And even though I left at 16, the affects of that upbringing has lasted until now. Well into my twenties, while living with my Aunt and Uncle who took me in as a teen, I would cry easily and apologize for everything. I struggled a lot with anxiety and depression. I had a hard time making friends and adjusting to school when it came to interacting with other people. I used to always feel like everything was my fault, and I knew I would face a lot of abuse for any mistakes so I was extra cautious. I will never forget the summer I was 16 and pregnant, as a new member of my Aunts household, and spilled a glass of milk that shattered on the floor. I cried hysterically, while my aunt just blinked and stared at me. She was not even a little mad and we just wiped it up. Looking back on the many times I was fragile and afraid after moving out, I pity my younger self and wish I could have had the awareness and maturity to have gotten counseling and help. For a really long time, I thought I was pretty "together" and just focused on going to school and caring for my child. Now, at 28 while I am married with 3 kids and live with my own little family, I catch glimpses of that same fragile girl who is petrified of making mistakes. Subconsciously, I try to avoid anything that could hurt someone else or myself. I hate loud conversations, I hate confrontations, and I really cannot handle any aggressive or upsetting emotions radiating from anyone around me. It is all amplified for me. As some of you may also be able to relate, these are qualities of someone who is empathic. When it comes to saying sorry for really meaningful stuff though, I am not always sure how to. I pause. I freak out internally. I feel so bad I did something and I am nervous to approach conflicts so I mull it over and I psych myself out all the way up until saying it. And the more time or distance goes between myself and whomever I should apologize to, the more anxious and upset I get about the whole situation. A few years ago, I apologized to a friend about something that happened in middle school. I had felt so bad for years but was terrified to confront it. Yet the person was completely fine and gladly accepted, but said it was not even necessary. That made me feel so embarrassed. Even worse, I reflect now on the times I have yearned to say sorry to abusers. To exs, even when they did something horrible to me. To old friends, who cut me off or drifted away, so I could try and say sorry to fix whatever severed the relationship. I even went through a phase where I tried to sort of say sorry to each parent [both I have not seen since 16 and they were each super abusive + addicts]. Yet, I KNEW I did nothing wrong. I logically know when I do something wrong. Or I illogically think I did something wrong. Those are my two reactions in every day life situations. I now know that is completely normal for someone who has Complex PTSD and has been abused. But I went at least 25 years not knowing any of those terms and not having a true association with those words. I am working on myself currently, and I have confided in my husband about it so I could explain why I am the way that I am. Getting to know me has been a slow and eye opening process for him. But having someone so close, whom I see every day thankfully, really helps me to rationalize and identify my emotions and the way I process my life. I also get to form safety and reassurance of my decisions. Maturity + awareness of these side effects of abuse has also helped me to post about them. I know that so many people experience this and often, just like me, they lack awareness of where it stems from. Or worse, people may feel like they are broken and too damaged to ever become "normal". I know that feeling and it takes me every single day to tell myself rational thoughts to combat those fears. I have to be loving and remind myself that healing takes time. I also lean heavily on educating myself and connecting with others. I am trying to be more conscious of the word sorry and replace it with "excuse me" in the small scenarios. As for the big mistakes, I have to tell myself more often that I am human and prone to errors. In the duality of the word, I need just as much to embrace not saying sorry for being myself. I should never have to be sorry for being bold, passionate, brave, loving, adventurous, hopeful, positive, or any other positive and healthy emotion. And neither should you. One day, I am confident I will grow beyond a lot of these symptoms, but I hope by sharing my progress it may empower and inspire others struggling with the same problems. In order to become our best selves, we need to seek help and knowledge, as well as share our raw truths to validate one another. ♡ So here's to saying sorry AND not sorry, one step forward at a time. For the last 2 hours, I have been having a life talk with my daughter about being an entrepreneur, how everything costs money, and the "cost" of free time. My parents never talked to me about anything. My husbands' parents were always working so their messages were brief. We all live in a time now where it is VITAL for parents to talk to their kids about how "life works". We need to explain why everyone is running around, stepping on each other for money. What money even means to our society. And what the best ways are to earn money. For sanity, freedom, and prosperity. We also need to instill a mindset in our children that money is not king.  That trading years and sacrificing our freedoms for pieces of paper is not why we live on this planet. And it is not the answer to happiness. We also need to make sure our kids know that dreams and passions are most important for our own inner growth. I had trouble explaining why people obsess over money, why people choose to work for 40 or 50 years of their lives. I do not even know all of those answers. What I do know is that life is meant to be lived. I grew up poor and am now lower class. We do not make much money even though we have multiple family businesses. Why has that been the case? As I explained to my eleven year old, running a business can be very expensive. When you have overhead, machines, employees etc. Plus, you spend your time working in your business every day [and even through holidays /weekends]. We did that for the last 4 years. I met my husband in 2015 when I was a single mom in college. I leaped right into his businesses with him that year and then became pregnant. In those 4 years we have dedicated our time, money and resources into the businesses. And my girl knows how much we have struggled, put tears and sweat as well as blood into the businesses. But that is not what life is about.  So 2019 brought us many new changes. Due to money problems, health issues, and other unforeseen circumstances, the universe was screaming at us to take a break. To retreat. To downsize. In all ways, we hit rock bottom. And ungracefully. It was scary, painful, and raw for both my husband and I to let go of so many things at ages 28 and 30, with three kids to provide for. With a family to provide and nourish. But seven months later, I now see just how lucky we are to have been stripped of what we knew. My daughter knew 7 years of college life and alone time with me before I met my husband. And she cherishes those years. She remembers them as amazing and fun. She does not know the struggles I had, the debt I went into, or the stress I endured as a single person with so many bills and worries. I left college with $80,000 in debt and no promise for a career or future to support her alone. I thought I did all the right things though. Regardless of being a teen mom and becoming estranged from family, I went to college. 6 years worth of Undergraduate level schooling, interning, and work experience. But from day 1 I was in debt with dreams but no security. I want my girl as well as my other kids to learn that college and education are great for the experience. The people skills. The passion and inspiration. And I am so grateful for when I went to college so I could build up the dreams I have and develop myself as a person.  However, I am also personally thankful that I now have the freedom and opportunity to be my own boss. And do it from home. "What I am doing now is building a career from scratch. Aside from being home to raise my kids and tend to chores, I am applying all of the knowledge I've built and all I have access to so I can break the code." J.S. , Jaded Savior The success code. The happy code. And I want my kids to see it all. Authentic and raw. I tell my girl when things are hard, that pressure creates beauty. I tell her that arguments and frustrations also happen as you are learning and trying to build. That my husband and I have to work hard to educate one another, to make tough decisions and to make a life plan that will be enriching. Our goal now is enriched, not rich. We see money as leverage, but we do not feel it is a ticket to a rich life. My kids see how fun it is to enjoy nature. To take walks. To go to public spheres like the library. The place that holds all the answers for me. Knowledge. Those are my tickets. When I can absorb knowledge and pass it around, I feel enriched and fulfilled. She understands so much, even at a young age. She is curious and she now improves in her own mindsets by rethinking things in her life. When we left our old apartment and my college, she was so sad. Though she was happy to gain siblings and a family, I know it was not easy leaving behind her safety and familiarity. Her home.
Because this is what we do.
This is our whole life now. Building our own opportunities, discovering our passions, and sticking together as a family. Even if that means some days we cry together. And other days we have stress together. Because that is life as an entrepreneur, and just as humans. But we have one life, one chance together to make it all count. ♡ I am so thankful for all the women on my feed who take live videos doing their own makeup. I've admired the YOUNIQUE brand babes for years, but also other makeup and beauty mamas who get themselves up on screen so we can see all of your BEFORE, REAL faces. Don't get me wrong, makeup is cool. As I have mentioned on Facebook before, self expression is the bomb. When you can rock your own beauty naturally though, it feels so great.
I have large pores, combination skin, blemishes, freckles, moles, a gap toothed smile, off white teeth, puffy under eyelids, veiny top eyelids, chapped lips, nose skin that loves to flake around my nostrils, pesky nose hairs, balding eyebrows that are 2 different natural shapes and overgrow at the sides. I have acne and blackheads. Scars and battle wounds. From years of all sorts of abuses. I have fat under my chin, a dry neck, and my ears stick out when my hair is up like a freaking elf. When I see you beautiful women get on live and I identify your natural "imperfections", I feel human. Magazines show me makeup. Social media gives me tons of beauty tips and standards. All the girls on TV, as young as 10 on Disney channel show me flawless skin. But what I want to see, as someone with anxiety and prior longterm abuse, is fucking pores. Tell me you have pimples at 28. Tell me your neck NEVER matches the rest of you. Tell me your boobs sag. Tell me your eyelids are droopy and veiny.
"Paint me pretty" is the concept that allows women to step outside their door each day, out into the world of opportunities. When you buy into corporate America, beauty standards and media, you feel you are not "enough" just naturally showing up to parties, to work, to family events, and out with friends or partners. And the only thing that will fix that for you is by buying into hundreds of dollars of services, products, and chemicals to alter you into looking acceptable or attractive. When you have anxiety from experienced trauma from a partner, friend or parent, these ideals can cripple you. Feeling unworthy turns into suicidal thoughts. Convincing yourself that you are not beautiful or handsome enough, not thin or fit enough, or that you are too "poor" or "incapable" to fix your looks to suit the times are all common symptoms. And the consequences can be fatal.
In fact, I hated how I looked all the time so I was more prone to believe bullies in school because they said what my own mother was saying at home. This led to enduring emotional abuse with more than one romantic partner. So much that I acted out like a chameleon trying to please everyone. And still I was hurt, cheated on, lied to, and neglected. It is NOT obvious when you are being abused by someone while you are enduring it. For a long time, you are just in a fog trying to endure everything and get through the day. For me, waking up was a slow process. And being bullied to be the right kind of beautiful for my exs' and parent turned into me being insecure at school and work. I hated photos of myself, hated seeing myself in the mirror, and focused on finding temporary solutions. Cover ups. Under eye concealers. Green powder. Contour. Toners for my freckles. Nair for any body hair. Or shaving like crazy. Plucking and pulling eyebrows. Putting on tons of makeup. I wanted to control my body type and how it looked in fashion, but I was too busy to focus on doing it in a healthy way. So I fell right into having an eating disorder. This was all before turning 16. I got pregnant with my boyfriend after my 16th birthday. I was a size 00 and felt super insecure about myself in all ways. So those 9 months of growing, widening, pains, and skin changes really added to my anxiety and shame. On top of that, I was pregnant as a teenager, with someone who ditched me, and parents who were no longer in the picture. It took me many years to outgrow my chameleon-like personality. To start figuring out who I was and what I wanted to be. Who I wanted to be.
I was in sweat pants. No makeup. Hair tied up. I decided that night I was going to meet the partner I REALLY LIKED while completely bare with all my insecurities out and proud. I've told him since how that night was really important for me. In my healing from trauma and abuse from exs, I decided I would no longer paint or peel to please anyone. I wanted to be me for me. We have been together almost 5 years now.
And never ever tolerate the bullshit abusers fling at you, nor to try and cure them of their thinking.
You will never be able to convince an abusive and toxic person that they are wrong. "All you can do is show up every day dressed as yourself, and hold no space for anyone who has a problem with it." ♡ - J.S. , Jaded Savior "An open letter to all the moms who find it hard to breathe." I've been victim to that crippling feeling of not being enough for so long. All while trying to smile through my days, with my eyes in a fog, so my kids and my spouse can pass my indifferent behavior off as normal. So that no one will suspect I cry in the shower late at night with the water up and some music playing to drown out the noise. This is hard. Every day seems hard. And yet I do not know how to put into words what the problem actually is. Maybe it is nothing. Maybe its everything. From not fitting into my clothes right, to having no place to go. No adults to talk to daily while I am sprawled across the floor picking up blocks and baby dinosaurs while my kids run around screaming. Counting backwards in my head and just taking deep breaths, my head feeling light and dizzy. My heart pounding in my chest, an irregular and angry beat of drums that bring on a stirring solo in my gut, my veins writhing with heat and adrenaline. "I can't do this."
And mommy just needs 5 minutes alone. No. Make it a day. A week. A week of silence. My favorite books, being read on a hammock. A delicious breeze cooling off my bathing suit body, after laying out in the sun on my balcony. Staying in a bungalow with wide open windows and clear aqua water beneath the floor. Vacation. Without anyone or anything. No obligations. No calls. In fact. No reception. No one needing a gosh darn thing. Peace. Then two tiny hands pop under the door. "Mommy... I need to do poop". And just like that, your fantasy is over and you are opening up the door, letting light flash into the dark bathroom where you sat taking your break. Where I sometimes sit to just get away a little bit. To the mama who does everything. From crisp & clean laundry, folded perfectly into the drawers with lavender scented satchels tucked neat into the corner. To hot, baked meals with crock pot aromas filling your beautiful home all detailed with DIY, Pinterest worthy decor that YOU made with your loving hands for your family to gaze at and feel loved. To the mama who packs every lunch, serves every dinner to tired spouses and noisy children only to do all the cleanup, showers, teeth brushing, floor cleaning, bed time stories, kisses, glasses of water and tuck right ins'. To the mama who spends the rest of the night cleaning up each room, re-stacking the blocks, crawling across the living room carpet and feeling underneath furniture for crumbs and Sippy cups. To the mama cradling her baby who breastfeeds at 11PM after the others are in bed and that cleaning is all done. And you cry along with baby as you feeling like nodding off. And your only entertainment is scrolling through the news feed til midnight and playing a game of farming crops on your phone. Breathe.  The 5,000 toys around the floor can wait. The crumbs on the kitchen counter and the pile of dishes in the sink can wait. After the priorities are done, and whatever gets the house silent is done, then just STOP. STOP. BREATHE. And give yourself some love. Just a few minutes a night if that is what is necessary. Tell yourself you are loved. You are worthy. You are strong. You are resilient. Tell yourself you are so powerful. And so needed. Give yourself these few minutes to be needy and to serve yourself.
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AuthorJean Soto, mother of 3 and wife, is a writer + artist in the Hudson Valley, NY community. Archives
December 2019
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TRIGGER WARNING: Content mention of Rape, Abuse, Neglect, Addictions, Mental Illness, Kidnap, Molestation, Child abuse, Teen Pregnancy, Abortion, birth, body image, gender/identity dysphoria, sexuality, personal trauma, domestic violence and other extremely personal stories. Please practice caution. I am not a licensed physician or mental health professional. No medical prescribing is provided on this site, Only personal insights, experience stories, and advice; All stories published have had prior authorization. Questions? Contact Jean at: jadedsaviorblog@gmail.com |
EMPOWERING MINDS SINCE 2019
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