by Lauren Jayne
I could see that all of my life I had tried to change the course of my stream. With every class I took in college, and every controlled thought, I was attempting to move in a different direction, away from the one my parents had forged. Each time I volunteered, I was trying to learn and grow myself. Every time I watched a friend continue to stay with an abusive boyfriend, I swore that would never be me. I’d been making mental notes of how I wanted and didn’t want to be since I was three. I was trying to think my way to another path. It wasn’t until that moment that I gave the sheer force of nature the credit it deserved. No matter how badly I did not want to acknowledge it, all that I had seen and felt and heard had formed me. It was all there inside of me. At that moment, I realized that no amount of education and list-making and awareness could fully stop what had been ingrained all those years. I realized that the only way for me to truly change my course was to get down in the sand and dig a different path over the old one, forge a deeper circuit, so that when life got crazy and I was unable to think clearly and rationally, I would automatically take that new path over the old one. I had to create my new autopilot.
From that day forward, I forced myself to be aware of all of my actions, and I no longer feared, but embraced, those times that came out of nowhere when I’d lose it for no rational reason. I noticed that it always started with stress, then feeling out of control, then my body would tense up, then my jaw and my hands, and I’d spiral from there. I made myself stay aware. I wouldn’t let myself get on that circuit that raced at warp speed toward destruction and chaos and ended in regret and shame. I began consciously choosing different behaviors. When stress hit, I’d make myself breathe slowly, drink a glass of water, shake my hands and shoulders out, and force myself to walk away. I’d turn on a song that I found soothing. Every time my body and mind would slip into the comfort of that old circuit, the destructive path of least resistance, I would force it to stop by replacing it with a different, healthier action. I would persevere until that new circuit was set, a little deeper than the old, so I knew I could keep myself from spiraling up and up and up and out of control, no matter what the world threw my way.
The absolute lowest moment of my life ended up being my greatest blessing, my greatest lesson. If I hadn’t had that life-changing epiphany, I would have perpetuated the cycle of abuse that I had worked most of my life to stop. It wasn’t until I gave credibility and power to the one thing that up until then I’d tried to prove was powerless over me, that I really started to do the work. I got down on all fours and started re-digging my own path. I realized that the only way I could live my own life, the life I had always wanted and dreamt about, would be to go through and clean up every bit of faulty wiring. I realized that I did have the ability to clean my own slate and make it exactly how I wanted it, with no surprises, but it would mean acknowledging the power of each circuit, one by one, and rewiring. I would get there, no matter what.
Chapter 34
It’s Finally Over
(Or Maybe It’s Just the Beginning)
Standing at my kitchen island, making a pitcher of lemonade, gazing out at the lake and the mountains while my three young kids run around in the yard below me, I’m amazed. Amazed that I am a mother. Not only a mother but the kind of mother I’ve dreamt about my entire life. Not that I’m perfect – not even close – but when I look at my kids, I see proof that I did it. I broke the cycle, the cycle that formed me and broke me, the cycle that I’ve worked every day since I was three to change. I know without a shadow of a doubt that this cycle of screaming, rage and abuse has ended with me. But I didn’t change by thinking it away or repressing the anger and shame. I changed by consciously choosing a different, healthier reaction, each and every time, by rewiring the faulty circuits that had their grip on me. And it’s an ongoing challenge. “Every day, as my kids get older and life moves at warp speed, I’m constantly reprogramming my brain and redirecting myself to be the person I want to be, not the one I was brought up to be. I don’t need to be a reflection of my childhood or the sum of my earlier existence – I have a choice.
I’ve always wanted a plan, to navigate my own life with a map that I’ve drawn out – not just reacting to what life threw my way – and for the most part I’ve done that. I tried so hard to navigate and control, to keep myself and those I loved off the crazy train, always thinking if I could control it, I could keep anything bad from happening. But sometimes life happens. It’s taken all this time to see that the plan is critical, and the floating down the river along the path you’ve drawn for yourself is where the good stuff happens.
It took me all these years to learn that the only person I can control is me. I’d been trying my hardest, since my first memory, to make my mom happy. I was scared to death that if I wasn’t there, she would fall apart completely, and our world would crumble. I spent all of my energy focused on her, not me. I did the same with Carmen. It was a role I was comfortable in and proud to be good at. I realize now that we all have our own path, and while I can pad someone’s fall, what I’m really doing is enabling them. I can do everything in my power to show them the way, keep them from walking into the pain that I can see is right in front of them, but the truth is, people end up doing exactly what they want to anyway. The only person I can truly be in charge of is me, the only person I can change is me, and the only person who can make me happy is me. It took me up to this time in my life to realize that this isn’t selfish. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. Being the best I can be makes me a better person, mother, wife, friend – a better everything.
I’ve learned that the hardest circuits for me to re-wire are the least obvious ones: the emotional circuits, the communication circuits, the relationship circuits. As I sit now, I realize that I’m always going to be a work in progress, fine tuning and re-wiring myself. I allow myself to be aware – not of how I think I should feel or be, or how I see other people going through life – but of experiencing life as I feel it. If it feels off, I work to fix it. If it feels right, I work to give it space and nurture it to grow. I trust my instincts. It’s my life, and for the first time ever, I don’t feel selfish for saying that. It’s my life, and I have the power to make it exactly what I want. I know now that if I can see it, I can change it. For the first time in my life, I feel peaceful inside, and I can trust myself to relinquish control and just float down the river, down my own path that I have carved. I trust myself to be who I am and nothing else.
Thank You…
Karen Schneider, for seeing something in my story and always encouraging me to keep working.
Mary Logue, for your guidance and encouragement.
Ashley Shelby and Ashley’s Eight from The Loft Literary Center in Minneapolis for your enthusiasm, support, and guidance. I loved being a part of our group and grew so much as a writer with all of you.
Susan Breen, from NYC Writers and Gotham Writers NYC, for your time and guidance.
Belinda Boscardin, for walking through the dark with me and assuring me if I kept walking rather than turn back at the darkest point, I would reach light.
Ted, for being my constant light in the dark and one of my favorite people on the planet.
Mrs. Miller, Teri S, Gayle S, Linda R, Carmen Hayward, Pam Bartlett, Chris Welling, Sharon Tapper and all my other moms that have taken me in along the way.
Rachel Norman, my very first reader, whose level of excitement was enough fuel to keep me going.
All my amazing, loyal, dedicated friends who have supported me every step of the way.
Elise Kloter, my editor and friend. I’ve loved every second working with you on this.
My mom, who is always striving to be better, always accepting of my faults, and whom I love for exactly who she is.
Bryan Heathman, for your patience and always being a consummate professional and guiding light on my journey.
About the Author
Lauren Jayne lives in the Pacific Northwest with her family. She’s a graduate of the Universit
y of Washington and has dedicated her life to helping kids find their own way rather than staying on the path on which they find themselves.
To learn more visit BreakIt.org
Lauren Jayne is available for readings and speaking.
To contact Lauren Jayne: [email protected]
Made for Success Publishing
P.O. Box 1775
Issaquah, WA 98027
Pretty Things Don’t Break: A Memoir
Copyright © 2016 by Lauren Jayne. All rights reserved.
Designed by DeeDee Heathman
In accordance with the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitutes unlawful piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), prior written permission must be obtained by contacting the publisher at [email protected]. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
Jayne, Loren
Pretty Things Don’t Break: A Memoir / Lauren Jayne
p. cm.
ISBN-13: 978-1-61339-835-7
To contact the publisher please email [email protected] or call +1 425 657 0300.
Made for Success Publishing is an imprint of Made for Success, inc.
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