I remember being wonderstruck by lamps reflecting off of mirrored pavement. The night sky offered protection as my friend Kess and I roamed the streets near Fitchburg State University. In mere moments we became warriors searching for survivors of the storm. Fitchburg was a ghost town covered in icicles. Their slick tongues dribbled frigid water onto our shoes as we ventured on. Our steps crackled as ice broke beneath our weight.
The Ice Storm of 2009 caused power outages, property damages, and tree breakage. We ventured down one road where a car-sized tree rested in the center. We changed directions. There were parties around the college. At some point, Kess and I separated. I walked in the cold back towards the dorms, smoking a cigarette. She went to find warm arms.
No one needed to know the awful relationship I recently ended. It was five years long, straight through high school. I depended on the guy too much and had severe anxiety for all the wrong reasons. I attached myself to him like a fungus because at the time, loneliness was an understatement. (And Depression was my best friend.) As I strolled down the icy road, I spotted my reflection in some particularly thick black ice. Who was I?
I was a free woman. Liberated from a boy who never grew up, though neither did I. In all honesty, I would have begged that kid to stay with me just so I wasn't alone. Because like the ice storm, I was destructive to myself. I sought escape from my inner demons. I depended on friends to the point of annoyance. In a whirlwind of personalities, I never once thought to be myself. I connected with book characters and convinced myself that life was a story. In a sense, it is, but the dissociation came on strong in 2009. So much in fact, that I spiraled down the rabbit hole into bad relationships and one night stands.
But this was only the beginning.
Back at the dorms, I greeted some friends as I claimed my land in a hallway. I slink down to the floor against a wall and felt the weight of sadness on my shoulders. People passed by as I shrank more and more, to the size of an ant. I was not important. I could see a reflection of my balled up body in a pane of glass separating the entryway and hallway. I felt my mind shift, zone out, come back as something unfamiliar. How confusing it was to have a grey mass that deceived me my whole life, but in a protective way. I knew nothing of Dissociation. I felt my soul step through the glass and come back bearing gifts of other personalities. Personalities that could shelter me from uncertainty.
I stood as I absorbed a reality of necessary measures to deflect any obvious signs of depression. I had to act like them, the girls who were carefree and flirted. The girls who had their life together and went to college to find a social life over a degree. I had to act the part in a play I was forced into. So I ventured to a friend's dorm room in a half-daze, stopping part way to greet students I'd never really talked to.
I felt like Alice, emerging from the Rabbit Hole in the dark woods. How "curious" it was to be alone, independent, yet subjugated to self-doubt. Fear crept up my legs in twisted vines leading back to reality. No one knew me. A mystery surrounded me as I approached the second floor. Kess texted me that she was on her way back. I replied to meet me in Paul's dorm. I knocked hesitantly on the door. Paul let me in and introduced me to his roommate. I sunk into a chair and pretended to be funny, constantly jesting about strange characteristics of professors we had.
Though I dated him for a week, it meant nothing. He knew this. We remained friends. This did not quench my need for an anchor to hold me down as I floated farther away from Earth. My head became surrounded by teapot steam as I searched for my Mad Hatter. I was dumb. Compiling dates like an old button collection, never knowing which one I would use.
This went on for a bit until I met my present husband. He guided me towards my better self. If I hadn't given real love a chance, I'd probably still be lost.
Why am I sharing this? I feel it is important to know even business women have had a tough past. The world is scary. We face challenges every day trying to figure out who we truly are. And instead of walking on eggshells, we should voice our pains. They add to our character, teach us lessons, and prove that we can overcome any obstacle.
So when I speak about Valkyrie, it's not just a cool name. For me, it means fighting off the demons that haunt your slumbers. It means overcoming those challenges and celebrating where you are today. Stay grounded, believe in yourself. Stay fierce.
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