“As they become known to and accepted by us, our feelings and the honest exploration of them become sanctuaries and spawning grounds for the most radical and daring of ideas.” ~Audre Lorde
The high-speed train barreled through the Japanese countryside. Craning my neck to take in the scenery, excitement fluttered in my tummy. I was twenty-eight years old and living my dream of being a professional singer.
My duo partner, Caroline, and I had just completed a month onstage at the Intercontinental Hotel in Manila, Philippines. A twenty-piece orchestra backed our forty-five-minute show, an entertaining mix of Motown hits, 80s pop ballads and a few Broadway tunes. Local authorities treated us like American stars, showering us with gifts and fine dining.
Our next stop was a month at the Mandarin Hotel in Singapore. Opening to rave reviews, we slowly developed a fan following, including a distinguished older woman who invited us out to her estate. There, we sipped sweet tea and rode her magnificent thoroughbred horses through pristine rows of rubber trees in the slanting, late afternoon sun.
I wondered what delights Japan would offer as we sped toward Kyoto. What I didn’t know was that instead of playing major hotel venues, we’d been booked into a string of men’s clubs. The postage stamp stages allowed no room for elaborate choreography or a live band. Instead, our charts had been recorded in the studio and reduced to a cassette tape.
The small clubs catered to successful men and their mistresses. One night, we struggled through a plaintive rendition of Endless Love while male patrons grabbed their crotches and waggled their tongues at us. I stared at the ceiling, completely unprepared to handle the visual assault and praying my brimming tears would not slide down my cheeks.
Similar acts greeted us at each stop of the tour. With no tools to process the experience, I turned to stacks of Pringles and cups of vanilla ice cream sold from the cart on our daily train rides to the next city.
I fled to Los Angeles at the end of the tour, emotionally numb and ten pounds heavier, and never performed again.
No one was talking about trauma in 1983. People around me laughed it off as a funny anecdote. I internalized my shame and judged myself for taking it so hard, ultimately deciding that I wasn’t tough enough for the entertainment business.
But was that the truth? Is toughness really the answer to aggression and disrespect? Or is there a different kind of empowerment needed to retain agency in the midst of dehumanizing behavior?
This question is more relevant than ever at a time when patriarchal values appear to be surging. It simply won’t work to fight back on the same playing field, to “out-tough” the bullies. In fact, we need to get off the game board altogether and rewrite the rules.
Here are three empowering rules I wish I’d known at the time.
Rule #1: Reclaim your permission to feel.
When we’ve been in situations where we’ve felt powerless, we become convinced that showing honest emotion is weak, and that strength comes from the illusion of control. Retaining the upper hand. The strategy falls apart when we recognize that raw emotion can be our greatest source of power.
Real power is not our capacity to manipulate people and circumstances. It is a grounded ability to act that emerges from being connected with our authentic self. Emotions are the pathway to authenticity.
Cultivating emotional vulnerability is difficult. It requires dropping your defenses and connecting from the heart.
Few know how to express clean (vulnerable) anger without diverting into blame, judgment or righteous indignation, and in fact may not even know what it is. Can you tell your spouse you are angry about something they did while staying connected to your love and commitment to them with an open heart? Can you navigate through the sting of humiliation and rejection, letting a friend see your naked pain, without diving into debilitating shame?
Learning how to feel vulnerably is a skill set you can cultivate over time, one that will strengthen when you embrace the second rule.
Rule #2: Find a safe ally who will bear witness to your truth.
It can be scary to reveal what you feel. Exposing your vulnerability to an uncaring audience results in self-sabotage. The key is to find a safe ally who will mirror your truth and help you stand firmly in what you know.
Whether you confide in a therapist, coach, good friend, or spouse, the key is to find a safe place to be real. Look for someone who will witness your truth with an open heart and encourage your messy authenticity. There is enormous power in being seen.
Rule #3: Convert raw emotion to empowered action.
You will likely feel much better once you’ve honored your emotional truth. Restored to yourself, there may be a temptation to put the unpleasantness behind you and move on. But this is where you need to dig in and augment the fruits of your work.
Don’t squander your hard-won authority!
If you’ve done the first two steps in earnest, you will have made many discoveries. What are the empowering choices you want to implement going forward?
I’ve seen this countless times in my own life and in the lives of my clients. The moments when we finally give voice to our unexpressed hurt or anger become a springboard for profound change. We can walk away from an unhealthy relationship. We can speak up to a dismissive colleague with clear boundaries. We can honor our needs, building confidence and esteem.
Decisions born of raw vulnerability often become the defining moments in life, when we embrace permission to forge our own path.
Reconstructing the Past
I’ve thought a lot about that naïve young woman who returned from Japan with shattered dreams. Forty years later, I understand that instead of growing a thicker skin, she actually needed both emotional support and wise guidance to feel her way back to wholeness.
In my imagination, I walk with her off that seedy stage and back to her hotel room as she removes her makeup and sequined dress.
I sit beside her, ask how she really feels, and simply listen as she pours out her humiliation, her fury, her awful sense of powerlessness… her deep disappointment and sense of betrayal. And when all the emotion is spent, I tell her she has choices. She gets to have boundaries and do what works best for her.
Together, we explore all her options and their possible repercussions. Then, we let her decide. She does not have to remain a victim. She does not have to let the behavior of others determine her future.
The Secret Rule #4
While we may not be able to rewrite the circumstances of the past, we can absolutely rewrite the beliefs we forged along the way.
The most harmful of these have to do with our sense of being unlovable, or in some way unworthy. We can transform these limiting beliefs, helping our younger selves to know they matter, and their emotions are valid and heard.
Over the years, I’ve gone back in my imagination to be the safe ally for many of my younger selves. It always makes a difference.
Love is timeless. Imagination is creative.
This is the secret rule that enables us to heal. It is never too late to stand in your power.
About Leza Danly
Leza Danly has been coaching individuals and groups for more than thirty years. In the 1990s, she led classes for the Co-Active Training Institute and developed their supervision criteria. Leza went on to found Lucid Living, Inc., offering a robust curriculum of soul-based transformation workshops. She is currently working on a book, and her solo show, Soul Breadcrumbs, will debut in July. You can read more of her essays at lezadanly.com.
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