Thursday, September 25, 2014

Dear Young Daphne



Dear Young Daphne,
You are loved & admired so much by me, your older self. I stand amazed at your resiliency & determination to keep trying to grow in the good way despite so many abuses pummeling down upon your small self. You kept your fire & your heart thru the worst hell poured on you from the time of your birth onward. Along the way you used various tactics & strategies to survive that were & are genius.
Oh, sweet, sweet Daphne. They lied horribly to you. How could they? How dare they! But, you stayed sweet nevertheless.
Then you escaped. It has taken decades to get to this level of healing of what can never be totally healed. But, you chose to get out & try to be good. Little one,  you succeeded far beyond your wildest dreams, & we still have dreams left to dance thru.
But, for now, come into the embrace of your older self & rest. You are loved beyond measure & so treasured. Thank you for never giving up.
Love, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw

Monday, April 21, 2014

The Journey to Finding Words to Fit



How do I write a story without the words to write it? How do I tell my story if the words and even the concepts elude me? This is my life. So many of the root causes of the troubles I have seen have been pre-verbal or of such an extreme and, hopefully, rare nature that I do find it hard to grasp what I have been living. It is especially difficult to get help for specific troubles, such as health issues, if there are no words along with no recognition of the symptoms presented because of the rare or deliberately ignored types of problems I faced. Then I discovered I was not so extremely rare after all. I began to meet and hear about others who had similar stories to various parts of my story. I began a decades’ long journey to discover what was going on for me and to heal. It has been and continues to be a steep learning curve with a long process of unraveling the layers in my life, my body, and my psyche.

And, yes, somehow my size was always put as the frontispiece of my woes – either through the sheer cruelty meted out to me from what felt like everywhere from as early as I can remember or through the deliberate neglect or resistance to giving me the help I desperately needed from the beginning, especially when that assistance was available somewhere. Was my size the real issue or only the cover issue for something harder to define? Perhaps it is all this and more. There is nothing quite like prejudice informing those who think they know it all. The trouble was, I did not know better and usually believed them on too many levels. Why? It was mostly because my problems started too young for me to know any differently AND because I was and continue to be fat. Apparently when a person is fat, all troubles, all problems, and all the many types of hatreds spewed upon the fat person are the fat person’s fault. Hence, the fat person does not deserve good treatment of any kind.

Of course, this is utter nonsense parading as societal wisdom. Another name for it is bigotry. I had learned to self-impose this mindset deeply and to accept mistreatment. So, I have had to un-learn most of what I thought I knew. This was not a one-time effort either. The process of finding those deeply buried and beyond normal knowing facts and beliefs was difficult in and of itself. There was much personal research and work involved, but the work did begin to become more enjoyable and less tedious as I grew in wisdom, knowledge, self- and other-acceptance. The process is still on-going and will most likely be lifelong.

Some of the new areas opened to me to search for answers to many of my life and health problems included, but were limited to, abuse and PTSD/cPTSD issues, autism spectrum issues, RAD (Rare Adipose Disease) issues, as well as learning about societal privilege and bigotry issues. All of this and more I will begin to address in future blog posts. Meanwhile, the learning to put words to experiences continues.

I will put the size acceptance parts of my journey here with our ISAA (International Size Acceptance Association) blog and the rest on my own personal blogs and pages. I do hope you are along for the journey with your own as well.
Thank you.
Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw
© 2014, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw. All rights reserved.
Published in conjunction with ISAA (the International Size Acceptance Association.)
http://womeasure.wordpress.com/2014/04/21/the-journey-to-finding-words-to-fit/

Sunday, December 23, 2012

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

Loving the Body We Have Now & We Shall Unite, Overcome, & Love Ourselves, Part 1 - Body Sovereignty

In a blog post by Jayne Lyn Stahl: "The Akin Doesn't Fall Far from the Tree" - quote from the blog: "Rescinding Roe v. Wade isn't about protecting the rights of the unborn, but protecting the rights of white men who labor under the delusion that letting women loose in the workforce imperils their own otherwise bright financial fu
true."

My comment to introduce my part of the shared link on my Facebook main profile - "Yes, that & who owns/controls our bodies, who has rights to our bodies, and who will be the boss of my individual life. Sovereignty begins with my skin & the statement of "I am who I am."

Here are a sampling of my many thoughts on the body sovereignty issues brought up by this article and the whole circus-y pseudo-debate within which it is flaming:

First of all what does sovereignty mean? It means to have the supreme power, freedom from external control, to have the controlling influence, autonomous, and the one ultimately responsible with ownership. So, what does body sovereignty mean? It means to be the one who owns, controls, makes decisions for, is ultimately responsible for, the one who has natural and moral rights to body integrity, and one who has the exclusive rights of self-determination in regards to one's body and life.

This is a very powerful, liberating, revolutionary, frightening, empowering, life-giving, and also very responsible concept. The statement "I am who I am" is the ultimate statement of sovereignty. Pop-eye had his own version of this statement - "I yam what I yam & that's all that I yam says Pop-eye the sailorman." My favorite version right now for me is "I am who  am, no more and no less."

One of the advantages of declaring and having body sovereignty is the enjoying of our exclusive rights as an individual to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. It means we can relax and love our bodies as we are without being forced, coerced, shamed, trapped, or made a prisoner or slave to anyone else's interests. We get to say who touches us, what we wear, who we love, and are able to have access to quality housing, food, exercise opportunities we like, and healthcare. We can explore without guilt what responsible pleasure in our skins feels like for us. It means we have the right to say "NO!" and to enforce it. We have the right to say "YES! more more more" and seek it. We have the right to live unashamed, with basic human respect and dignity, just as we are right now. We have the right to live, to love, to laugh, to be who we are with whom we choose. We also own the consequences of our choices, actions, words, and thoughts. As the song once said: "free to be you and me."

more to think through on this issue:

Love means bearing people’s differences without trying to change them—not just bearing, but valuing and appreciating and loving people’s uniqueness. That’s a path all by itself. What if the fact that you’re different from me is a gateway rather than an obstacle? ~ unknown,  A Body Revolution

Help With Sexual Body Image and Breast Cancer

Because this reflects such humanity, empathy, and almost universal application, I wanted to include it before I forgot it here. It is an article recommended by Susie Bright, & I agree with her assessment. Enjoy -

Help With Sexual Body Image and Breast Cancer

Monday, August 27, 2012

Loving the Body We Live in Now As Is, part 1

Because almost all of us regardless of size, gender, or any other way of seeing a human being are trained by our culture not to be happy in the bodies we live in now as we are, I wanted to share this article as food for thought for us all.

"So often, the world doesn’t seem to let women have their own opinions about their bodies. Not everyone wants to be really skinny. Not everyone tried really hard to get there. Not everyone is worried that they don’t look thin enough in their wedding gown."

http://www.eatthedamncake.com/2012/08/26/my-skinny-friend-and-the-women-who-judge-her/

Saturday, July 28, 2012

Just Love Me

Heart stopped. Frozen tears. A sob stuck forever in lungs. Big eyes. Lips tremble. How many times can a heart stop & restart? Silent plea. Please love me. I am broken beyond repair. Love me. Pummeled pieces sweep clean to make new. Please love me. Hidden. Watching. Scared. Please. A small whimper. Please no more hurt. Just love me. Final words spoken only through big eyes. ~ Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Slow, Steady, Safe, Sure

If we can just let go and trust that things will work out they way they're supposed to, without trying to control the outcome, then we can begin to enjoy the moment more fully. The joy of the freedom it brings becomes more pleasurable than the experience itself. ~ Goldie Hawn

Enjoy the journey. Actually, the journey is all we really have. The destination is death, at least for this lifetime. So, why would I want to unnecessarily hasten the ending? This can be a useful metaphor for most things in life, too, if it is not overdone or overblown. Somethings need a slow and easy enjoyment to get the fullness of the experience. Other things do need sped up to catch the important part(s) in time. The skill is in knowing the correct timing for whatever is in front of me. For example, I want to take a nice slow pace in kneading the dough for my bread, but I want just the right time to get that same bread out of the over before it burns. I think I will not talk about the trials and errors along the way to learning the right timing for both parts except to say that I am still learning despite being somewhat accomplished at bread-making by now.

Well, I know this timing and the relaxing into enjoying the journey moment by moment is vital for me to enjoy pleasure of any kind, but especially any part of a sexual encounter. If I cannot relax, I cannot enjoy much. In fact, the feeling of pressure from any source whether it be from within me, from my partner, or from outside circumstances will disconnect my ability to relax and to trust enough to enjoy much. This does not mean that the pace cannot be quickened at some point some times. But, trust cannot be sacrificed ever, or my whole being will shut down and shut out the partner and the experience. At that point, it might be better to try moves with a crash test dummy than with me. In fact, pressuring after I shut down could lead to a lot of painful consequences all around.

However, when the pace is right and the trust is there, magic is almost guaranteed. So, it is worth the effort and all the practice lessons along the way.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

To Hold All Sacred, The Basics

In my lifelong effort to heal and to be whole, I learned many things and had to keep unlearning, re-learning, exploring, observing, contemplating, discerning, naming, learning more, and then repeating the whole process over and over. Because of extended terror from the beginning of my life, I have also had to learn how to come out of the frozen, foggy, unlit, and hidden places in the world around and inside me. Shall I just say the process is not boring (not even sure I know what that concept feels like) nor is it easy (a vast understatement.) I did have some important help from the beginning and along the way among which included a feisty, fiery spirit full of wonder, curiosity, intelligences, and an enormous love despite all.

Some of the important lessons I learned from infancy onward was to look for the whole thing and not just part, to keep checking the foundational or roots of whatever I was dealing with or building, to measure and re-think the measurements at least three times before making a cut or a move, and to keep learning more of the meaning of love, respect, and honor and how to apply them. So, from my baby mind until now, I took my lessons to heart and one of the practical results was that I learned and keep learning that life is a vast lesson in making love and that physical sexual joinings were a very small but important part of the whole life. Also, physical sexual joinings included but were not limited to coitus but included myriad variations on what relationships of any type could be. Also, I learned in the most traumatic way possible about the evil misuse of any part of this whole thing. And so, I am still healing and learning. I discovered that all of us are as well, so I am not alone.
My life motto for decades has been "hold all sacred." That sacredness is a profound respect and honoring so needed in, to, and from me. Due to the nature of all I needed to heal from, I have been mostly alone even in the midst of crowds. My nature and habit is to be usually very quiet, but I do have great spurts of talkativeness when the mood and opportunity are present. And, despite all, I still love humans...even those who have hurt me the deepest. I somehow knew that hearing their true stories were a part of my healing. So, I yearned to hear. Part of that includes a hearing of all points of view. Hearing to me means a deep, focused listening to the whole message of the "other" - to all (human, non-human, living being but non-animal, non-living being, all - all means all.) Until I hear what you are trying to tell me, I have not heard you, in other words. And, I want to hear you.

This hearing is such a big part of love-making that it surpasses and encompasses the whole experience, in my opinion and observation. And, to me, all is love-making in one way and another. Once fully heard, ecstasy is there ready for explosive joy in all directions. Joy, love, healing, and wholeness? What's not to love about this?
I want it all.

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Shedding More & More Shame Daily

It is only lately in my life that I have begun to realize that size, ability or challenges, appearances, and a whole host of other more physical things do not make or hinder desirability, sexuality, sensuality, or even likability. Yes, there are stigmas, bigotries, hate crimes, and other despicable cruelties we humans do do to each other based on real or contrived differences. And, the harm is horrendous. No escaping that terrible fact. Nor can I escape the damage done through years of terror, abuse, and neglect. But, that is not all of the story I have begun to discover and work through in some new ways for me.

One of my first insights to help me begin to heal on body issues about 20 years ago was the simple fact that without my body, none of the other qualities I admired could exist as me. My body was my home. My body is me, a reflection of me, and the portal into all of me. With the simultaneous insight of a deeper awareness of how all "things" are connected, I began exploring how my body was also connected to all things.
I did not learn to love me or my body well, but I started by learning not to want it dead all the time. Some days this is a monumental effort even now albeit for different variations on earlier reasons. I did learn that others similar to me were loved deeply as they are. I learned other in worse conditions than I faced also were loved deeply. Not all like me were loved. Most were still trapped in the cruelties of life. But, for me, I began paying attention to the possibilities. I hungered for those. I decided I could be loved too. I knew how to love. So, I decided to continue working on me, making me a better conduit of love while at the same time doing as much research about the issues as possible. This research included listening to my body and learning the words to put to different emotions and other sensations. My insight was to work toward wholeness and healing in such a way that I could become the kind of lover I would want, and somehow that would attract what I needed, desired, and longed for to me... in me.

And, here I am. I am not yet shameless, but I am shedding more and more shame every day. What a relief!

Monday, July 9, 2012

Thirsting to Fly

Jeanette Winter's observation of lovers as quoted from her work The Passion is a sensual display of observation by a third party who happens to be a poetic prose type writer-thinker. She paints a vivid word picture of the nervous stage fright of a type of new lovers just meeting passion/lust. She does accurately report how many express the delighted terror of the new encounter with sexual opportunity just met - the "3 F phenomenon" of fight, flight or f*ck. Alas, too many never advance from this stage into an ever growing mature love & passion but rather become addicted or stuck in believing that this is all there is. Then when this fleeting, untamed, somewhat unpredictable spark is over, they go on to look for the next spark without even trying to build a long-lasting bonfire.

For me, the initial meeting with someone expressing sexual interest in me has felt like an attack. The delighted terror has had heavy emphasis on the terror part and little of the delight. I had been terrorized daily from the beginning of my life well into adulthood while also being "taught" to be a "good girl" at all costs or meet my destruction... as if I was not facing my destruction daily...  and so I married, have a son, faithfully dead ever since... except the inner me kept growing....

Something untamed, wild, almost fae within me thirsted to fly, knew there was more & that I was more than all I was going through. My search for my own wholeness, my own wisdom, my own "me" has been a costly way with a long way still to go. But, fly I most certainly do. Imagination is a powerful path. Dreams can be made realer flitter by impish flitter, hard work by hard work, one step at a time. Unimaginable pain can be endured if the inward vision sees the dream possible. Impossible things happen every day. Fly with me please.


“Lovers are not at their best when it matters. Mouths dry up, palms sweat, conversation flags and all the time the heart is threatening to fly from the body once and for all. Lovers have been known to have heart attacks. Lovers drink too much from nervousness and cannot perform. They eat too little and faint during their fervently wished consummation. They do not stroke the favoured cat and their face-paint comes loose. This is not all. Whatever you have set store by, your dress, your dinner, your poetry, will go wrong.

How is it that one day life is orderly and you are content, a little cynical perhaps, but on the whole just so, and then without warning you find the solid floor is a trapdoor and you are now in another place whose geography is uncertain and whose customs are strange?

Travellers at least have a choice. Those who set sail know that things will not be the same as at home. Explorers are prepared. But for us, who travel along the blood vessels, who come to the cities of the interior by chance, there is no preparation. We who were fluent find life is a foreign language. Somewhere between the swamp and the mountains. Somewhere between fear and sex. Somewhere between God and the Devil passion is and the way there is sudden and the way back is worse.”
Jeanette Winterson, The Passion

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

It Circles Round

It Circles Round

Vague coursing
Snaking inwardly
Back and over and under
Up and around
Then back down again—
Unknowingly knowingly unknown
Shifting, sifting, lifting
A restless, rootless
Wildness…
Refusing continuance
Bound and chained
To a life not my own.

(C) 11 October 1994, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Issues. Everybody’s Got Issues.

Issues. Everybody’s Got Issues.

Identity crisis would be just fine
Had someone not just smashed mine.
“I found myself.” “I lost myself.”
Everywhere: self, self, self.

Hello and how do I do?
I’m very sorry, have I met you?
Yes, I met me the day I’s born;
Then I left me all forlorn.

Oh, you poor and silly me.
How could you possibly not know me?
All my life I’ve felt so dizzy.
Gosh, finding me has kept me busy!

(C) 22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

P.T.S.D. Begins

P.T.S.D. Begins

Pinch me. Am I alive?
Yes, but I do not feel it.
Isn’t it strange to be alive yet feel dead,
Such deep wounds and never reveal it?

Nobody knows. Nobody sees.
Nobody knows except me?
Everyone knows. Everyone sees.
Everyone knows except me?

Constant turmoil. Constant calm.
Brightest clouds. Darkest sun.
Scorching rain. Pouring heat.
Standing still on the run.

Hiding in the open field;
Cowering in the hidden den;
Am I really so innocent
Drowning in the deepest sin?


(C) 22 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

A Wound for a Heart

A Wound for a Heart

Bubbling, boiling, heatedly churning,
Frothing and foaming, emotions are burning
Into my heart, my stomach, my head,
Violently reeling alone on my bed.

I cannot stop thinking. The memories come…
Upheavals, eruptions, but just feeling numb.
My stomach is knotted; memories play in my mind.
Tormenting and mocking, my life in a bind.

Furiously hating, bitter rancor,
Anger, hurt, fear: my grudging anchor
Holds me in place, frozen in time—
Will I ever be free from their despicable crime?

Sapping my energy, draining my life,
The past cuts right through me like a well-sharpened knife.
Will I ever be freed from my past?
Will I ever find peace in my heart that will last?

The chains are too heavy, too tight and too much,
Tangled, intertwined with my soul in the clutch
Of their cold, evil fingers, tearing me apart—
Big, gaping wounds in the place of my heart.


(C) 17 January 1993, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

That Old Nameless, Faceless Fear Again

That Old Nameless, Faceless Fear Again

I have known the terror
Of never being sure
Just when the next trauma
Would engulf my little world,
Of living out a nightmare
Yet appearing very good…
For whom?

I have known the terror
Of never feeling safe,
Of being ever vigilant,
Of pretending to be sedate…
How docile and passive—
Like an electric barbed wire!
But who cared?

I have known the terror
Of sleepless nights and sleep-filled days,
Of feeling lost and wandering
Through a mine-filled maze,
Of always looking back and forth,
Of never being sure…
Of whom?

(C) 23 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

My Eyes Have Told My Story All Along

My Eyes Have Told My Story All Along

I looked at some pictures the other day,
And, boy, what a big surprise!
I wasn’t as ugly as I was led to believe,
Regardless of my age or my size.

It was a stranger looking at me,
Yet I recognized my big sad eyes.
My story told a story amazingly clear.
They saw through a life of lies.

Fixed eyes and focused, sad and alone,
Waiting for the unseen…
Eyes filled with a purpose yet gentle and kind,
Fiery and strikingly keen.

Sweet eyes yet haunting,
Knowing yet stilled,
Ready to pounce,
Yet sealed.
Scares eyes and timid,
Searching for love,
Questioning without answers…
Hawk with eyes of dove.

Mysterious yet open,
Guarded but real,
Penetrating,
Much to reveal,

My eyes told my story
There all along,
But no one saw it before?
Clearly something’s wrong.

Yet my eyes covered it up,
Hiding inside,
Remaining undetected—
My life relied.

Yes, I looked at some pictures the other day,
And, boy, what a big surprise!
Seeing myself for the very first time
In my quietly beckoning eyes.

(C) 30 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Determined

Determined
In the heart of my heart is a door
Long locked and barred.
Aching. Yearning.
Deep desire.
What passion ruled me there?

I want to be loved, respected, admired.
I want to be an artist, serene.
I want to be saintly, earthy, risqué.
I want to be alive in all ways.
I want to be graceful, wise, fun, and deep.
I want to dance, sing, and run.

A secret compartment deep in my heart,
Buried yet ever with me.
Blocking. Preventing.
But not anymore.
Because I am determined to be me.

(C) 31 October 1992, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Who Are You? Me!!

Who Are You? Me!!
Dark, deep swirling in the river of my soul,
Sucking whirlpool and crashing wave.
How I’ve longed to trace you and
The devilish pain you gave,
But I never could quite discover
Even who you were, you knave.

Struggle, strive, stretch, searching,
Desperate to find relief,
In every nook and cranny,
Turning over each stone and leaf;
I hounded you to dispatch you—
To rest finally was my belief.

Who are you, my constant companion,
Who I fear, hate, yet long to see?
You outwit me, and you mock me,
Yet you fit me to a tee.
I hate you now I love you.
How dare you be me!

(C) 5 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.

Personally Balanced

Personally Balanced

If I were sweeter water still
And not some brackish brine,
If I were only whippoorwill
And not a herd of swine,
If I were only oak and ash
And never knotty pine,
If I were only lakes and trees
And not a deep coal mine,

Then I would lack the bass-er notes
That swell the symphony,
And I would even lack the pain
And tears of sympathy;
My life would only be so flat—
No room for empathy,
And I would—perfectly dull—
Not have much company!

(C) 5 January 1991, Daphne Yvonne Bradshaw.