THWACK! I heard and felt it as my fist smacked against the headboard and I woke out of my dream.
I’m not sure why I was in this closet like enclosure changing into a swimsuit but I was there. I can see the wood. I can feel the enclosure. I was large in a smaller space. It was like a workshop. The kind where you see nuts, bolts and tools strewn about on the roughly hewn work station.
I heard male voices outside and found myself looking around the door frame for hooks to hang a sheet so even if they opened the door, I could hang a sheet for privacy. I saw those hooks- the old time ones that look like the corner of a square. They were at the top of the frame but well within reach because I was big in this small place.
The door opened and there was an older, stocky, white man with hair shaved close to his head. It was the type of cut that happens when hair is being lost. He opened the door as if he had a right to watch me change- to catch me naked. I pulled the door shut and said something like “hey- don’t do that again”. I see the hooks again to hang another barrier. I’m changing and I hear another approach to the door. It opens and he’s got another, younger man with him. The older guy grabs the towel that’s around me and I simultaneously spin as the towel comes off and stand still facing forward. The younger, sandy, curly haired man who reminds me of the doofy faced farmers Hollywood portrays, is staring at me as though he’s never seen breasts before.
I hear my voice saying “wait until I tell… (but I don’t hear who I’m going to tell)” and I reach out to punch the older guy only to awaken myself and my partner, Walter, when my fist hits the headboard.
I’m stunned. I’m shaken. I feel violated yet again in a dream. This is not the first dream I’ve had where I was being sexualized. About 9 months ago, I woke up to the taste of blood in my mouth because I’d bitten one of the two men attacking me. I’m pretty sure that was a past life experience. The details of being in a petticoat and them being cowboys was just too vivid and the copper taste of blood too real for it not to be. Four or five years ago, I woke up out of a nightmare knowing who was sexually inappropriate with me when I was young. Two weeks ago I saw the family and the face of the man who was sexually inappropriate with me in a dream and was aware that I was dodging the abuser in the dream. The abuser’s father was holding me and telling me he’d protect me. I wonder if he did when I was younger. Did he know and protect me from additional abuse?
These dreams lead me to believe there are things that are starting to heal. I find myself drawn to spleen chakra healing and crystals. As I shared this dream with Walter- since I woke him up. He said “it’s a good sign that you were so big in the dream and that you fought back”. Yeah. It was.
I wonder, though, in how many lives was I sexually abused? I know I have a very deep seated conversation that if I’m thin, I’ll be raped. I don’t even remember when I discovered that conversation. Let’s face it- if that’s a conversation running in my background, why would I lose weight? I really do love this personal journey I find myself taking. It’s like unraveling a ball of yarn. I do hit knots that take time to undo. I think this sexual abuse knot is being undone. It’s at its own pace though.