I Thought It Was Normal

With all the shit I’ve endured, along with two open-heart surgeries, I’ve asked myself time and again: what does it mean?

Does it mean I deserve a break? Special treatment?

Nope.

It means I have to work harder—literally, physically, and mentally.

I’ve lived to tell the tale, and tell it I must. 

I have invited a few people to be guests on the podcast—people I thought would gain something from telling their story, from being heard. It’s quite the line-up to say the least.

With that in mind, my thoughts immediately went to the listeners—the ones who are alone, scared, trapped in a situation, or stuck in a headspace that's hard to escape—and how it might feel to hear someone else speak the words they've never been able to say themselves.

Podcasts didn't exist in the '80s or '90s when I was going through it. Maybe—just maybe—if I'd heard someone else tell it like it is, or like it was, I wouldn't have suffered mentally as long as I did.

Maybe my PTSD wouldn't have had the grip on me that it did because speaking it out loud and acknowledging it would have given me the opportunity to process those things.

I seriously thought that what I was going through was normal—that everyone was doing what they had to do to survive and that, along the way, shit just happens.

I only realized it wasn't when I started writing, venting, and re-reading my words.

I remember saying that very thing to my cousin Melissa one day—that I thought it was normal. Her reply was, “Yeah, it’s not normal.”

Her saying that made me feel two things: one, for a brief second kind of dumb, and two—validated.

That's how listeners are going to feel when they hear their own story in someone else's—validated.

Just writing this is giving me flashbacks of my uncle, my exes, my father, rejection, lies, pain. Shit I thought was normal.

I've moved past those things now. I am able to speak about them and recall some pretty horrible moments without falling apart, and that's because I found my way out.

I want this podcast to help others find their way out, and it will help them whether they're the speaker or the listener.

None of this is for likes or followers. All of this is for those who need to hear it, those who need to speak it, make it real, make it known, get it out of their body, acknowledge it, and work through it.

That's it. That's all.

Sounds simple, but it's not easy. It's not simple, but it's necessary. Speaking changes what silence made feel normal. 

This is the work, and it is work. Not paid work—healing work.

Everyone who was robbed of their peace deserves a life without pain and suffering. And I'm not just telling you. If you've read my book, you know—I'm showing you.

I will be recording all summer long, launching the first season of Truth Serum: Real Women—Raw Stories in September, one episode per week.

I am your Truth Doula. I want to hear it.

You've been carrying that weight long enough. It's time to put some of it down. 

It takes guts to speak your truth, but never underestimate how much your truth might be someone else’s story.

—Jaye