Changemakers Confidential: Molly (Part 2)

Real stories. Real people. Real change.

I never expect anything, I just feel things in my gut and go for them. If something sounds exciting and interesting, I do it and then I worry about it later. Doing new things takes a lot of energy and strength; it’s very tiring to make things happen. To learn how to master a skill, to push fears aside, most people would rather just go with the flow, but it’s not very interesting. ~Iris Apfel, Accidental Icon

As promised, here’s part two of Molly’s change story where we talk about earning your spot on a team, how community shows up in times of crisis and change, and the importance of cultivating a practice of continuous self-inquiry, especially when you have to dance with the darker parts of yourself to heal, learn, and move forward. Thanks for coming back for Part 2 - enjoy the read!

At the end of our last update, we talked about how you had to make some tough decisions in order to put things in place for yourself that supported your growth, rather than reinforced the cycles of spiral you’d been dwelling in for years. What are some examples of this and how have they supported you in change? Some of it is pretty basic stuff: I put away money now, I got a financial planner, I can move out in 24 hours, if I need to (well, that’s not very basic but it’s something I’m able to do). I’ve been through two divorces, one where I had to leave for my physical safety, and another where I was booted from the home once I informed my ex-wife that I was leaving the marriage. In that case, we’d agreed that I would stay in the basement of our house for about a month, which gave me some time to find a new place and get my stuff together. Within a few days of that decision, and right after I picked up the keys for my new apartment, she told me, “Actually, I can’t do what we agreed to; you need to be out by the end of the weekend.”

I was faced with two decisions: I either acquiesce and go along with it, knowing I was going to leave anyway, or I dig my heels in because this was my house, too, dammit, you don’t just get to pull rug out from underneath me when we agreed on a plan. I got her call in the IKEA parking lot, so after I hung up, I sat in my car for a minute, because I really had no idea to do. I ended up calling a friend of mine from roller derby, who told me to go back to my house and start packing, and she’d have people over ASAP. My derby friends came later that day, dressed in snowmobile suits because it was cold as fuck out, and I started pointing at stuff and they put it all into garbage bags and loaded it up. I remember thinking it fitting somehow that all my plants died during this mad dash of packing. It all happened so fast, but I was out by the end of the weekend.

The thing that comes to mind for me when you share this is the role of community and how it shows up in change. Talk to me about that. I think that there are three different types of community for me: my family, our college group of people - even if we see each other only once a year at Friends’ Thanksgiving, we’re still tight - and the third is team. On a team, you have to earn your spot and that happens over time, in how you show up and what you contribute. That was derby for me.

When I tried out for derby, I had to learn how to do it. It was a year of investment in attending clinics and such before I even tried out! So as you’re learning, gaining skills, and falling down a shit ton, the people on the teams are watching you constantly, to see who fits, who doesn’t. I injured myself a week before try-outs, so wasn’t able to try out that first time around. After my recovery, I had to relearn skills that had atrophied - that I’d barely just learned! - which was another nine months of time, energy, and effort.

After the initial tryouts - I did go on to the next level - there was a boot camp, another round of tryouts, two more months of practice, and then you were either cut or drafted onto a team. It was intense…this whole time you’re with this group of people who are vying for limited space, so we knew some folks were going to get cut, and that these were also our potential future team mates. There was definitely an emotional component, in addition to it being the most intense physical training I’d ever done as an adult…skating for hours, inside hot and stuffy warehouses...you’re bruised and battered from falling so damn much, at one point, I had huge welts on my arms. And even through all of that, I still wanted to make a team, so I kept that goal in mind for myself, no matter what came my way.

In the end, I was selected for a roller derby team that initially had one open position they were looking to fill. One person in the final round of tryouts had retired previously and wanted to come back, so we all knew she was a shoo-in for that team. One by one, names were called, either putting them onto a team or telling them they didn’t make the cut…I was the last person to be called up, which was excruciating. I found out that I was placed on the Bangers, and that they’d created another spot for me because they felt I was a good fit for the team, which turned out to be true in all kinds of ways. I’d earned my spot, and I didn’t take that lightly…being a part of that team continues to support me today, both for me and in how we show up for each other, when needed.

Do you think you’ve had to become more open, more discerning, today, because of the changes you’ve gone through in your life? You know, I decided a long time ago that because my problems were so obvious, and so prevalent, that my mania wasn’t something I would attempt to hide. So often, I would have a manic episode, come out of it 3-4 days later, and then have to survey the damage left in its wake. To answer the questions of, why I didn’t turn papers in on time, or how did I embarrass myself with someone I was fucking at the time, or what was the impact of the hurtful things I said…I mean, how do I hide all of that? How do I not talk about it? In my moments of clarity, I couldn’t pretend that it all didn’t happen. And I didn’t want to. So, in being more open about things, it didn’t feel like it was a constant bedfellow. I had to acknowledge this thing…and there was so much shame around it, too…that could’ve easily turned in on itself if there hadn’t been a way to get it out of my system. Do you think that being open helped you find better or more concrete ways of helping yourself? Oh, for sure, it did. People were able to provide help because I was more open. Part of that earning of community was in how we talked about handling things and knowing what to do when those moments happened.

You ultimately don’t want to be defined by events that happened to you like that…it’s the event, it’s not you. It’s you in that event, and you will be you once the event has passed. If you talk about these things that happen and don’t take any action to handle them, where is the true community/support that could happen? It eludes you in the moments where you need it most. It also runs the risk of making others responsible for you, rather than a partner to you, in those times. Yes, sometimes, you need others to pick it up for a bit, but community is returning when you’re ready/able to pick it back up again, and to do the same for others when they need it, too.

Aside from what people keep track of for their own personal life scorecards, there is also the cosmic tally that you don’t always consciously think of, but know it’s there…there is an exchange of some kind, it just happens. On a subconscious level, you invest in someone because you know they’d do the same for you. It’s intuitive. The person I called when I had to vacate my house, she had been in a similar situation about six years prior, and had called me one night, saying, I need to leave this relationship today, and I know you’ve got a spare bedroom. To which I responded, I’m not home right now, but here’s where the key is hidden, pot cookies are in the freezer, I’ll see you tomorrow. And we moved her out the next day. What do you think the role is of that immediate change, that sense of urgency that it has to happen right now? Change has to happen right now. That’s just what you do. A sudden event occurs and the things that pop up…that take time…lead to ways that you can choose to show up with integrity and dignity. With that mindset, I think you eventually get to a place where you don’t handle things differently. The big things are easier to manage because you did a good job handling the smaller things. I do these non-sexy things in the here and now, so I’m not fucked when the big stuff comes. 

For me, setting up systems and rhythms - labeling things with my Cricut Joy, for example - is self-care. It’s so important to know this is where I struggle - and when change comes, we struggle more in those areas - so what do I need to have in place to help myself out, to get through those challenging times? When you decide to deal with mania, you have to be so honest with yourself, be willing to face your pure id. It wasn’t that I didn’t care about consequences, there just weren’t any consequences in that manic state…it was the ugliest part of myself that showed up and who just didn’t fucking care. Those parts of myself that didn’t give a fuck about dignity or integrity.

What have you learned by exploring your shadow side through all of this, inviting it in and out into the open? It’s those things I mentioned in our first conversation, around having dignity and integrity. Today, I can define and understand better for myself what’s undignified. What’s unsustainable. Where I need to check in and make some changes. There are things that are true for me today, regardless of context, that just don’t work anymore in my life, like violence in relationships, toxicity, lying, malicious acts, alcoholism without working on it, mental illness without working on it…these are not relationships that I’m in anymore. These are all game-stoppers for me, a hard no. When they show up, whatever it is, it’s off the table…even if the base part of me wants to disregard them and go ahead and do it anyway.

I imagine that there could be tension, or outright struggle at times, when you’re making those decisions…how do you handle that? It’s a constant gut check…I’m making assessments every day, numerous times a day. I assess where I’m at, how I’m doing, noting what happens when I’m transitioning from one event to another, asking myself, why am I not wanting to do something, am I too tired? Why am I too tired? Is there someone I don’t want to see at that party? Why is that? Am I too excited about that thing? Why is that? I’m constantly having to narrow down the options so I can keep the boundaries and things in place that keep me healthy today. It’s a practice that I have…continuous inquiry…it’s never done, I don’t think that’s even the goal of that type of inquiry. It’s not always the easy path, but once you’ve learned the difference, you have a greater level of discernment, and know that you have a choice to do something differently.

One thing I also think about with change is my career. The changes in my life because of how my career has progressed have been incredible. Do you think that’s because you’ve pulled energy from places in your life that were tethered elsewhere that were not good for you? And that you can now channel it differently? Financial security is new for me…I’ve learned that being constantly in financial struggle isn’t good for me, especially for my mania. Yet, I still struggle, but it’s more in figuring out how I talk about it, how I celebrate it, how I share how proud I am about that security, that success. You know, my mom is terrified of me losing my job. She was a teacher and had the teacher’s union, retired with a pension…she needed that protection, in that way. Security looks different today, and that’s another community where I’ve earned my spot. My peers have seen me in action, I have supported people professionally, and because of that we are in community. And because of that security, that community looks different from what my family and many of my friends’s experiences have been/are, so I have to think about things differently, too.

That makes me think of an example with my two younger nieces (they were 6 & 7 at the time), when I’d just gotten home from a business trip and had stopped off at their house to spend the night. I looked up, and all of a sudden, see them outside, walking away from the house, with my suitcases/carryons (it was about $1800 dollars of luggage walking down the street!), and I was like, where the hell are they going? So I went outside and started to follow them, in stealth-mode, so they couldn’t hear me, and one of them says, “I’m a business lady,” and the other one goes, “I’m a business lady, and I’m going on a business trip to Hawaii!” Inside, I was crying and laughing at the same time. You know, it’s funny: a typical weekend for me can be things like gardening a little bit, maybe do some canning, a little labeling with my Cricut, and then I go to a backyard slip-and-slide party. I do these things that an 80-year old person and a that drunk frat boy would do, often in the same weekend. It’s interesting, though, how people really want us to be this one way…but the reality is we have all these messy, beautiful, disparate parts that need to be able to come together in their messy, beautiful, disparate ways that somehow creates this messy, beautiful whole self. I personally love the beauty of that paradox.

One of my all-time favorite songs about change is 3-Ways by Jakob Dylan. It talks about how you’ve got three choices in anything: to ask for help, to figure it out for yourself, or to give up. There’s a lot of personal accountability and responsibility in that. I’ve listened to that song hundreds, if not thousands, of times over the years, as a reminder to check-in, to better understand my responses to things, and to take - or not take - action in ways that reinforce my personal dignity and integrity…and: to take full advantage of a Hallmark movie-esque, limousine tour of Christmas lights in Johnson City, TX, where I’m the big city gal with too much money who gets drunk in the limousine, and discovers the meaning of Christmas by spending $117 on buying homespun calico ornaments for my Charlie Brown Christmas tree back home…but that’s another story for another time…

Thanks, everyone, for reading and for your support in making these change stories a reality! Leave your thoughts/comments below if you’ve got ‘em, and we’ll see you next time for more real stories about real people in real change!

Your change maven extraordinaire,

Kristina