I apparently dream about girls a lot. I'm about to share another one with y'all.
This morning, I had this dream about a Trinity--the Mother (my mother), the Queen (my ex) and the Goddess (the woman I'm dating), morphed into one. One being with whom I have been dangerously vulnerable.
I know, I know, most people hate hearing about dreams-- especially when they're all non-specific and random, like "and then you said something I don't remember, and then you turned into a unicorn and pranced off into a field of blue watermelons, and stepped on one and it became a shoe for your unicorn hoof. What do you think it means??" Well, I'm writing about my dream anyway, so BACK OFF! Ehem. sorry. where was I?
Right. The Trinity. Here's what happened:
The Goddess and I were laying on my bed, my head resting in her lap, talking about nothing in particular. She commented on something and I responded with a gentle tease. And then she asked--"why were you such a loser growing up?"... The body was of the Goddess, but with the voice of the Mother, dripping with a venomous disdain for the person I've become. Though hurt, I received the words openly. I tried to answer honestly.
"Well, I was struggling to find home in my own body," I say. Raw from the rub of once again exposing old wounds to her (all three Hers, the Trinity), I turned over, hung my head over the edge of the bed, and watched my hands claw into the chalky earth below. I coated my fingertips in white, and I fathomed that this action could assuage the pain that swelled in my body.
Then the Goddess reached out to me. She was tender, caring, extending herself as a container to help hold my pain. In this moment, she walked the line between the Goddess and the Queen. And then, suddenly, she switched over...insisted that I sit properly supported, lest I injure myself. When I resisted her attempts to move me, the Queen broke. Fitful sobs of anger and pain burst from her heaving chest, and I, still open towards her, still honest, still loving, did my best to soothe away her hurt. Then, without warning, she morphed again--the Mother pushed me off, pushed me down, and spat disgust on my stomach, and then the Goddess pulled back her hair and swirled the disgust with her tongue, seeking sex where words had failed us.
I pushed her off. "I can't," I told her earnestly, "my body hurts." I sought compassion in her eyes (the Trinity), but they burned with anger. And suddenly, I knew that I had made a terrible mistake, that I had left lessons unlearned with the Mother, with the Queen, and that I had recreated that toxicity with the Goddess; I had once again entrusted my spirit to someone who would not/ could not hold it.
My openness filled quickly, suffocated each breath like sand pouring into my lungs, and I had to get away from Her. I slammed the bathroom door, fearing violence from the Trinity, and my own cries woke me--from vivid dreams to vivid pain.
There are too many layers of explanation that can follow. Indeed, I've been turning the sequence of events, the faces, the scents, the feelings of each moment over and over in my head since terror shook me awake. It was only much later--after arriving at work and sifting through the tasks that had piled up since Friday--that I realized the significance of today.
Today would be the three-year anniversary of the first time I kissed the Queen ("would be," were we still together). In many ways, this date marks the moment in which I gathered enough courage to stand strong in my manhood, and to demand to be seen. It's a signpost in my shift from "genderqueer" to "trans"--a shift that has fundamentally altered my relationship with the Mother. Despite countless efforts from both of us, she can't quite seem to feel and reciprocate the earnest love and tenderness I hold for her, because today, the Mother is still preoccupied with the concern that, in being myself, I am making a terrible mistake. And today, I am talking to the Goddess. I'm finding myself dropping more parts of me into her open recepticle, despite myself, even before I feel quite ready to trust again. I fear the safety and joy that I feel with the Goddess because, in the recent past, such feelings have been followed by the pain of rejection--by the Mother, by the Queen.
And what's deeper than this Trinity manifesting in my dream on the 3rd, the would-be 3-year anniversary of that first kiss? I know the Queen is feeling "3", too.