“The fuck? What was THAT?” I thought half sure that I must be imagining things. This must happen to everyone once they turn 40. I must have missed the “your ligaments start resembling birthday party decorations” memo. I shrugged it off, said okidoki and carried on.
Later that day I was reaching down to repair a fur friend’s collar that rudely became twisted in another friend’s paw when I felt it again. The feeling of a raw, high pitched rub of a rubber glove. You know when you don’t necessarily hear the plastic but you feel it inside your soul? THE FUCK WAS THAT?! I exclaimed out loud as an audience of 13 furry friends stared back at me. Ok, either the surgeons left a rubber ducky behind or something is up. I resorted to my trusty electronic encyclopedia and searched “squeaky boob.” The results were a bit scandalous and although intriguing not what I was seeking. FOCUS AND DELETE HISTORY. I searched again “my implant seems to be squeaking am I losing my mind.” Low and behold: “If you’re hearing a squeaking sound coming from new breast implants, don’t be alarmed. No one left a squeaky toy in there (I’m not making that up). You are experiencing a normal phenomenon called bourdonnement. It happens when new implants slide against stretched out tissue and cause a friction rub. It will go away.” Well ladifuckingda. I really am the quintessential dog lady
With the solution of my squeaky toy conundrum resolved I was able to continue delving into my emotionally alleviating healing journey. When processing pain we seem to go through a series of healing rungs. We place blame, wonder what went wrong, wished it had happened differently and so on. People will often give their opinion, adding to the pile of liability. “After everything you did for him, he did that to you?”
Buttttt and here me out now, what if we took ownership. What if we took back our power and instead say, “After everything you did for him, you did that to yourself?” I’m not saying let them off the hook. No, no, no that mofo best burn in every fiery pit in hell for all time. And I’m not saying to chastise ourselves thinking we are to blame for the pain caused. I’m saying what if we let ourselves feel the sorrow and acknowledge the pain while apologizing to ourselves for allowing the poor behavior. What if we apologize to ourselves for accepting the abhorrent demeanor into our lives. What if we take blame for not loving ourselves enough and tell ourselves “I’m sorry for not being there for you. It won’t happen again. I’ll have your back from now on out boo.”
In the end it’s OUR journey. Everything that happens to us is allowed by us. We are only “working” for ourselves. We put societal pressure and blame on things that happen to us but it is a result of what we have allowed into our lives. For whatever reason one might have, whether it be an insecurity, a feeling of needing to punish ourselves due to never experiencing love as a child or never feeling good enough in adulthood we seem to find people capable of giving us an ample penance which our unhealed self craves. A “punishment” which we find comfort in. We place blame on others for what they have done to us but in the end we have allowed the behavior to impact us and dare I say often times we entangle ourselves people who, deep down, we know will bring us our self prescribed pain. The pain will bring suffering but as we work THROUGH the pain we realize that it is in fact a blessing. Sometimes the blessing comes in the form of children, sometimes it’s the gift of healing and most time it’s the realization of how strong you really are. It’s all meant to be. All channels lead to the ocean. And even friction rubs turn into lovely lady lumps.
