When I get asked why I choose to coach women, I wish I could say I have some profound simple one-liner as a response, but I don’t. The answer is much more complicated and takes me back to when I was 20. I was in college full-time, dancing professionally on the weekends, and working at the campus gym at night where I could do homework and study. I had left my abusive high school relationship, gotten into therapy for my childhood trauma, and felt like I had finally gotten control over my life. I was going to major in Sociology and then travel the world in the Peace Corps to study different cultures. I had plans to go back to school for my Master's to become a statistical analyst. I was happy in my bubble, undoubted in faith, and knew what I wanted. I had a plan. I had stability. I had peace.
Then, one Saturday morning I got on the phone with my boyfriend who was studying abroad, and took a test to confirm what I thought was my worst nightmare. I was pregnant. Tears ran down my face and hit my phone, and with the silence, he knew the test was positive. He said he would be here no matter what, which was reassuring because we had only been dating for a month. On the other hand, this was just as scary for me as it was confusing because I was told at 12 years old that I would never have children. Later - years later - my identical twin and I figured out our medical files had been switched. She was the one that would have difficulty getting pregnant, not me. Obviously at the time, being 20 years old without health insurance, I didn’t know what to do or who to trust to go over ALL of my options with me.
Coming from a very religious family, I felt like a failure, I felt ashamed, and I felt trapped. I remember thinking I was just another stereotype. That I had ruined my chance to get out of generational trauma and would continue that onto my child. Poverty and abuse would be my future. I saw no opportunities for the young, smart, and talented woman I thought I was. My shame spiral was deep and I saw no way out. What snapped me the hell out of it, you ask? MY BOYFRIEND'S MOM.
Comments