2. The Diaphragm & The Divorce
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Overview:
Have you ever thought that you shouldn't even be here, that your birth was a mistake, or that the odds surrounding your survival were so stacked against you that your presence on Earth isn't even warranted? This very personal story details the suffering caused by the painful interpretations we believe about our very existence.
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THE DIAPHRAGM & THE DIVORCE
The moment that I was conceived, my mother was wearing a diaphragm, and in the middle of divorcing my father. She was trying to prevent herself from becoming pregnant.
Eventually, as a child, I will interpret this to mean that I was:
A mistake.
Unplanned.
Unwanted.
Inconvenient.
An obligation.
I will tell myself my father didn’t want anything to do with me and that my mother “had” to take care of me.
Eventually I will conclude that I am…
Damaged and broken.
I will declare that I wasn’t even meant to be on the planet.
I wasn’t even supposed to be here.
And believing that story that I once believed created a gaping hole in me.
In my teens and throughout my 20s, 30s and 40s I will try to…fill the gaping hole.
With good grades, rebellion, having a chip on my shoulder, being different, the dream of being a rock star, being a reliable employee, food – so much food and sugar, TV, naps, oh, and…alllll those self-help books, tapes, courses, videos, workshops, classes, lectures, inspirational quotes, coach certifications, et cetera, et cetera, et cetera.
I will try to chase away the pain and distract myself from this very painful story and the way I feel when I think it.
I spend years that lead to decades never quite feeling like I belong and doubting so deeply that I am even lovable. I mean if it seems your dad doesn’t even love you and really doesn't show up in your life or care to know you….why should anyone else, especially men?
No relationship or crevice of my life is untouched by that story that I once believed.
It created a hole that was never fill-able.
It was a bottomless pit that could not be filled by anything.
But then came a point when I began to entertain that there might be another story here.
A different one, one that rings more true.
And it goes like this:
Oh yeah!
Homegirl was meant to be here.
I was meant to be conceived…
That. Day.
That. Moment.
Those. Parents.
During those divorce proceedings.
With that diaphragm in place. What else ya got? This is not going to be enough to keep me from coming in.
Time to rock it out on Planet Earth, baby.
Today is Conception Day.
No.
Matter.
What.
Coming. Through. Heading straight to the womb.
Bad-Ass Embryo in the house.
I was absolutely meant to be on the planet. At this exact time. Conceived not one second before or one second later but at this exact moment.
Same for you, my friends.
No question in my mind.
That Mother.
That Father.
Under those unique circumstances.
My Conception Moment. My Conception Day.
I am meant to be here during this time on Planet Earth.
This is my Conception Day.
These two humans, my mother and father, are my life curriculum. Exactly as they are. No need to change one hair on their heads. And there was so much I wanted to change about them.
But this is my Conception Moment.
That story that I once had that I didn’t even belong on the planet made me falter, made me futile. It made me question so many of my steps, made me wonder if I even had a right to show up, take up space, or call attention to myself.
And let me just say that a story like that that I used to believe can change In. A. Moment.
And the moment that story changed, that was the moment I could write a brand new story which I wrote 11 years ago.
It was a new story that felt so liberating.
So true.
Equally true if not true-er than the old story.
I mean…people…I am here. Of course, I’m supposed to be here. And if you’re hearing my voice, of course, you are meant to be here too. Right here. Right now. As the exact you that you are.
Byron Katie says, “When you argue with reality you lose but only 100% of the time.”
And I was truly losing with that argument that I had with reality. The argument that a divorce and a diaphragm meant that I wasn’t supposed to even be here.
I was walking the earth.
Living. And Breathing.
Of course, I was supposed to be here. I was here. I am here.
It’s like arguing that I shouldn’t have dark brown eyes when I have dark brown eyes. Or arguing that my father should have been the way I wanted him to be. He should have kept in contact with me. He should have called me more. He should have been more present in my life. He should have been the way I wanted him to be rather than exactly how he was. Not that much contact, very few calls, very little presence in my life.
When I argue that he should be anything except exactly who and what he was, I was losing 100% of the time. And I am not condoning his behavior. I have my preferences. I have my desires. And I can have my loss, my sadness, my opinions about that behavior. But thinking that he could be anything other than himself or expecting him to be…that is suffering. And I don’t want to suffer anymore.
Side note: You probably don’t want to have to change for anyone else – no matter who they are. Don’t we all want to be authentically who we are? We all want a right to be exactly who we are, expressed exactly the way we want, regardless of what others prefer – even if that person is your daughter, or your son, or your mother or your father or your favorite person on earth.
So, what if…
What if I was meant to be here?
Right here?
Right now?
In this body?
Conceived in the exact moment that I was conceived? During the divorce proceedings. In confusion. Reconciliation. Magnetic attraction.
My parents…maybe….who knows….wondering if there’s any way possible to save their marriage. Wondering if it could work somehow. Have we tried everything possible? Thinking, “Isn’t it worth one more chance? One more try?”
What if….?
What if I was meant to have the exact, imperfect, mere mortals of parents who were my mom and dad?
What if I was meant to be the only child they conceived together?
With the exact birthday and time of birth that I had?
I mean…come on…
Diaphragms when used with spermicide are 92-96% effective.
That means my conception is among the 4-8% of incidence when pregnancy occurs while using contraception.
Those are some interesting odds. Could it have been that I was pretty insistent? Determined. On my way. Ready for launch. That I wasn’t backing down. That I was comin’ for those two parents, at that exact moment during the divorce. In spite of that diaphragm.
That’s pretty badass.
And writing this new story was another brain-breaking moment, specifically, a belief-breaking moment that changed the rest of my life. Change my life from that point forward.
When I saw it that way. I knew for sure that I was meant to be here. And I decided to belong to the Planet. To belong to Earth.
If I am here. If I am breathing. I am supposed to be here.
I belong to the Planet. I belong to my parents, those exact two imperfect parents with their imperfect new daughter.
And we all belong to Earth.
And years after this realization, having become an artist and creativity coach and working with my clients, sometimes there is a person in front of me who tells me their story, and in it – in the avalanche of words that they express to me, they might throw in off the cuff, quite casually:
I wasn’t even supposed to be here.
They report it…like I did. As if they’ve said it a hundred times, and thought it a thousand times. And never questioned it one time.
They say it, like I did, as if it is an indisputable fact of their origin story. It is a sentence they believe to be infallibly true. No doubt in their minds. And right there as they continue with their story, my heart sends them a wave with this message:
Of course, you were supposed to be here. I see you right there. Right in front of me. You were meant to be here your whole life, like me. And we were supposed to be here right now with you telling me that story. And me, not believing it one bit. Sending you this invisible wave of love and compassion right to your heart. Knowing that you’re supposed to be right here. Knowing that you belong to the Planet.
That was your Conception Moment. Your Conception Day.
The day you exited the womb. That was meant to be your Birth-Day.
Your exact time of birth. Meant to be.
And this moment right here between the two of us. All meant to be.
You are supposed to be here.
You were always meant to be here.
Right now.
And so was I.
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