The Dragon at The Gate

The Dragon at The Gate: An Edited Excerpt from Raw: My Journey from Anxiety to Joy, by Bella Mahaya Carter

When I was younger, I never knew when my anxiety might get triggered, though I did know that extended family gatherings were likely to stir, if not explode, my issues to the surface. I remember one doozy of a Thanksgiving dinner in which my father-in law graciously offered to buy copies of Secrets of My Sex, my then forthcoming poetry book, for the whole family. I was speechless—and horrified. I didn’t want Jim’s dad reading my poems. I was sure he would hate them. I couldn’t shake his response to a short story I’d written in my twenties, when he’d told me I needed more male characters because not everybody wanted to read about girls and women.

That was mild compared with what I imagined his response to my poems would be. I was certain he would find them—and me—totally inappropriate. I was writing about my sex life—the sex life I shared with his son! Jim rarely took what I wrote personally. He
knew that as a writer I took creative liberties, and he encouraged that freedom. And although I had his blessing to write what I wanted, I doubted his father would approve. Not to mention the fact that I’d convinced myself he thought I should quit writing and become a full-time mom after our daughter was born.

For Helen’s second birthday, Jim’s parents took us all out to a fancy but noisy restaurant. Helen, sensitive to loud sounds, wouldn’t stop crying, so we had to take the food to go and ended up eating at our house. Jim’s parents were not happy, and as they
left our home, his mom said, “Nannies don’t know how to discipline children properly.” Helen had a nanny three days a week so I could write.

Jim’s parents called the next day and kept him on the phone a long time. He didn’t say much after he hung up, but I guessed his parents continued to make their case against nannies. Since the only time I got to write was when the nanny came, I assumed they thought I should quit. Maybe that wasn’t their intention. Perhaps they thought I should be able to write and not need a nanny. Or postpone my writing until Helen started school. I’m not sure, but my interpretation, the story I created in my head, was that they thought I should set aside my silly writing dreams to tend domestic matters.

When Jim’s dad offered to buy copies of my poetry book, all I could imagine was their shock and wonderment: Is this what she’s been working on all these years? I took it so far as to create a scenario in my mind in which they encouraged Jim to leave me. A million other fears rose to the surface as well: I was wasting money. No one would like my book. I was self-centered, inappropriate, and downright bad. I should avoid making a fool of myself, shut my mouth, and quit writing.

A few days after Thanksgiving, while working on a batch of poems with my editor, Jack, he could tell I wasn’t my enthusiastic self. “What’s wrong?” he asked. I told him about my in-laws.

He listened deeply, was quiet for a moment, and then said, “You know sometimes you have to not worry about what people might think and just say, ‘Fuck it. Here it is. Take it or leave it.’”

I knew he was right, and I couldn’t believe that at forty-eight I still felt apologetic for being me.

I learned a valuable lesson that day, though maybe it was one I already knew and had to relearn. When you go after your dreams, issues surface. Every so-called obstacle is an opportunity for growth. Writing and publishing my poetry book was like encountering a dragon at a gate, guarding something I desperately wanted. I had to ask myself, Do you let the beast stop you? Do you slay it? Or do you befriend it and enlist its help? In the end I understood that my vulnerability and insecurities were not monsters but gifts, and I resolved to quit abusing myself with venomous inner chatter.

I’ve gotten much better at this over the years, especially since I’ve learned to put healthy distance between my thoughts and me. Oh, they can be very convincing at times; they can fool me into believing they’re God’s honest truth. And the human mind is programmed to worry. This harkens back to caveman times, when, the second you left your cave, you had to put your guard up because otherwise a wild animal might eat you.

Today, we no longer face these physical threats. Our modern-day danger zone is psychological. We navigate expectations—ours and others’. We walk a tightrope trying to do the right thing, avoid offending people, worry what others think—and this impedes our freedom as much as shackles around a prisoner’s ankles do. We stumble. We fall. And in our descent, we are distracted from inner listening. We cannot hear the truth, nor do we know who we truly are. This separation creates suffering, and we perpetuate it when we believe on any level that we are not enough. When we give away our power by letting others judge or define us. When we judge or limit ourselves. When we falsely believe there’s some absolute truth or standard we will never achieve.

Sometimes you just have to not care what anybody thinks, including that worried voice inside your own head. Sometimes you have to stand up, dust yourself off, and say, Fuck it. Here I am. Take me or leave me, knowing you will never again abandon yourself!

—

Bella Mahaya Carter is the author of Raw: My Journey from Anxiety to Joy (She Writes Press, May 2018) and Secrets of My Sex. Her poems, essays, and short fiction have appeared in The Sun Magazine, mindbodygreen, Lilith, Literary Mama, and dozens of other print and online journals and anthologies. She is a writing teacher and coach who helps students and clients shed inhibitions, find their voice, and live their true calling. She is also an anxiety coach. Her mission is to heal herself and others through conscious, creative inquiry and expression.
http://www.bellamahayacarter.com

RAW, MY JOURNEY FROM ANXIETY TO JOY,Bella Mahaya Carter

Raw is the story of one woman’s quest for health and happiness, which dragged her kicking and screaming into spiritual adulthood. Anxiety and a desire to heal it holistically—even before she knew what it was—is at the heart of this story, which reveals Carter’s struggles to face her fears, release perfectionism, surrender things beyond her control, and find validation within for her life and work.

The book is divided into three sections—body, mind, and spirit—and it begins with Carter’s efforts to holistically cure chronic stomach problems. Toward that end, she adopted a 100 percent raw, vegan diet, which eased her symptoms and produced impressive, unexpected perks, but didn’t completely heal her.

She then looked to her mind for answers and discovered that unconscious negative thoughts combined with a stressful, hectic-paced life sabotaged her well-being. Finally, a few mystical experiences brought her “home” to a visceral understanding of who she really is.

“Carter’s decade-spanning quest covers countless forms of therapy and self-help. Her relentless unease is palpable throughout, deftly portrayed through effective dialogue and memorable recollections.”
—Kirkus Reviews

“I love this book, and―as a writer/dancer/seeker who has struggled with the swing between self-doubt and grand dreams―resonated with so much of it. Bella writes with great honesty and heart, and invites the reader to share her journey in a lovely, intimate way.”
—Gayle Brandeis, author of Fruitflesh: Seeds of Inspiration for Women Who Write

BUY THE BOOK HERE

 

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Category: Contemporary Women Writers, On Writing