Fight, Flight (or Freeze). Moving is dangerous. /  by alicia johnson

Six months or so ago I took on project of sorts, maybe more of an assignment that I accepted, to whittle down to the 'one thing' i wanted to commit my energy to. It started with taking the time to jot down every single thing I wanted to accomplish, from the craziest, big thing to the tiniest little detail. Then sort through them, narrow, narrow, narrow over the course of several days until I got to "the one thing."

It was surprising to me what I whittled down to. It truly never would have occurred to me that it was something I was longing for. I surveyed the list of crossed out things, it held really dear desires like finishing the production of Positano, and becoming a good writer, but what rose to the top was ‘being supple’.

I wasn't sure what I meant by that, but it felt like a root-level need. I could feel a power of longing that was overwhelming. I wanted to be able to move. 

So I set about exploring it. What would it take to be supple? What did I mean by supple? 

I went to the dictionary, I love understanding my instinctual attraction to certain words. Here's what I found:  bending and moving easily and gracefully. Grace is one of my words, that felt good. Agile, that felt good. Nimble, ok. Pliant. hmmm. Yielding. Ugh oh. No.

I decided to go with moving easily and gracefully.

I do not move easily or gracefully. In fact I have trouble moving. I weigh more than my body was designed for. My back is wiley, slipping in and out of functional, I have a long neck that can be lovely but is prone to nerve pinches, my legs ache and cramp, my left foot sometimes screams at me. I fall easily and often.

I long to be active, mentally I feel fantastic after a long walk even though there are pains that howl. I love to swim but don't because I can't bear how I look in a swimsuit. 

I have stretches where it feels like I'm making progress, daily walks for weeks at a time with no fall, gardening and house chores with no back pain that stops me cold.

I have extreme guilt about this, I hear the voice in my head saying that really I'm just lazy. If I were to get my fat ass moving more often it would all resolve itself. 

So supple is a herculean challenge.

I started with a simple commitment to explore it. The dictionary and a plan. 

I love to garden, so summer is the perfect time to give myself physical assignments. I found a masseuse that was open to the idea that I was exploring 'supple', we agreed a schedule of massages over the course of the summer and she has had powerful suggestions like yin yoga. A wonderful practice. 

And I've had so many set backs through the summer, neck pain that stalls me, back spasms that have literally made me scream. What? I have not taken on any aggressive activities, I'm being wildly gentle with my body.

I have been working on promoting Positano during this time.
And doing research for Hudson:  during this time.
I have made myself vulnerable in ways that I knew would be difficult, but had no idea how difficult. Like black night of the soul difficult. 

In the midst of this I read Roxane Gay's book Hunger. The book is about her body. The book is blunt, truthful, so painful to read. So worth it. She was raped at 12-years old and created a cage around her body (her words) to protect herself. I understand that. She talked about dieting, about how she would find a way to get into a groove and feel great, but then something would trigger her and all bets were off.

And that sparked a very frightening, dark knowing in me.

Moving is dangerous.

In other research I came across the idea that "freeze" is part of our panic system. Fight or flight, we all know. There's also freeze. Freeze is particularly prevalent in children who are being abused. That was news to me. Liberating news.

When I was raped I was pinned down, my mouth and nose covered to the point that I could not breath. I have been aware of being claustrophobic for most of my life, I have been prone to hyperventilation and have developed good coping skills, but this summer I came to be conscious of this idea that moving feels dangerous to me.

If I move my body I will experience pain, or humiliation.

I don't know if it feels more liberating or more Sisyphean to have this sense. But I do know that I'm going to do the work of undoing it, or using it.

I don't know how I'm going to do it. I need help. I'm asking around for a psychotherapist to help, a physical therapist to help. I'd like to unplug this reaction that moving my body is dangerous.

I understand my "ugh oh" reaction to 'pliant' a bit more for having had the dark night of the soul, and I'd still like to be supple.

I'd still very much like to move my body with ease and grace. My body. 

The Prosecutors /  by alicia johnson

Research for the novel HUDSON:
Matt Jacob shared an early cut of Leslie Thomas' film The Prosecutors with me, it's powerful and heartbreaking. There is a moment in an interview with a human rights leader (name withheld) in coastal Columbia that struck me so completely, a woman talking about the devastating effect of the paramilitary troopers taking the women from her village. 

She describes how they came into the village with their guns and their machismo, how they would take a woman for maybe a week and then bring her back, give her back. When they did this the village gave up, "immediately the community loses all its strength."

It strikes me because for too long we have thought of rape as having one victim, but it is the entire community, the culture, that is broken by these acts of aggression and violence. 

We are being broken in an ancient way when we can not protect our women and children. 
To remain whole as families, communities, nations, we can have zero tolerance for sexual assault by the paramilitary, or by celebrities, or by presidents. 

Zero tolerance.

 

From the site for The Prosecutors

How do you accuse your neighbor of a war crime? How do you stand in front of uniformed officers and make the claim that rather than liberators, these people are rapists? What does it take to demonstrate to a village that all of the crimes that have been perpetrated against its people are worthy of conviction - including long-ignored sexual violence? 

ABOUT THE FILM

Rape and pillage are concepts as old as war itself. Certainly war carries with it the idea of gathering the spoils found by those who stand victorious on the battlefield. But does sexual violence have to be a part of war? And what are the risks and sacrifices involved in ensuring that the legal system provides justice for everyone? 

THE IMPACT

It is our contention that with perseverance there will be a global understanding that sexual violence cannot be tolerated as a by-product of war and that victims and combatants will expect that these crimes will be prosecuted. 

LEARN MORE

The legal framework for this type of prosecution is changing. Globally, lawyers, governments, and civil society members are developing and expanding the important historical precedence for this effort. For practitioners working today and students who will fill the legal ranks tomorrow there is much to be learned by what is happening in the courts of Colombia, Bosnia, Congo and beyond. 

 

These Values Are Non-Negotiable /  by alicia johnson

Research for the novel HUDSON:
Fox announced today that they fired Jamie Horowitz, head of Fox Sports programming.

From the LA TIMES story:
Horowitz’s dismissal came less than a week after 21st Century Fox began investigating allegations of sexual harassment in the workplace at Fox Sports.

“Everyone at FOX Sports, no matter what role we play, or what business, function or show we contribute to — should act with respect and adhere to professional conduct at all times,” Fox Sports President Eric Shanks said in an email to staff members, announcing Horowitz’s departure.

“These values are non-negotiable,” he said.

I advocate the adoption of his statement, "these values are non-negotiable." There's no "boys will be boys" there's no celebrity pass, there's no presidential pass. Non-negotiable.

 

Talking about Sexual Abuse /  by alicia johnson

Research for the novel HUDSON: 
The legal system didn't work for these women, public support did — in a circuitous way.

With enough outcry, advertisers on O'Reilly's show pulled out. Money talked loudest. Personally, I'd rather the women were simply listened to with empathy and trust, and that the legal system took a zero tolerance stance on sexual assault — but until then, I'll take the work around of zero tolerance as expressed through our spending power.

From the NYTIMES article "It’s Not Just Fox: Why Women Don’t Report Sexual Harassment"
Employers, judges and juries often use women’s failure to report harassment as evidence that it was not a problem or that plaintiffs had other motives. But only a quarter to a third of people who have been harassed at work report it to a supervisor or union representative, and 2 percent to 13 percent file a formal complaint, according to a meta-analysis of studies by Lilia Cortina of the University of Michigan and Jennifer Berdahl of the University of British Columbia Sauder School of Business.

Mostly they fear retaliation, and with good reason, research shows.

In response to a New York Times report this month of payouts to women who had accused the Fox news host Bill O’Reilly of sexual harassment, 21st Century Fox, Fox News’s parent company, said: “No current or former Fox News employee ever took advantage of the 21st Century Fox hotline to raise a concern about Bill O’Reilly, even anonymously.”

In interviews, women who worked at Fox said they didn’t complain to human resources because they feared they would be fired.

Sexual Harassment, Silicon Valley /  by alicia johnson

Research for the novel HUDSON:
Women in Silicon Valley speak out, NYTIMES

From the story "Women in Tech Speak Frankly on Culture of Harassment"

Now some of these female entrepreneurs have decided to take that risk. More than two dozen women in the technology start-up industry spoke to The Times in recent days about being sexually harassed. Ten of them named the investors involved, often providing corroborating messages and emails, and pointed to high-profile venture capitalists such as Chris Sacca of Lowercase Capital and Dave McClure of 500 Startups.

The disclosures came after the tech news site The Information reportedthat female entrepreneurs had been preyed upon by a venture capitalist, Justin Caldbeck of Binary Capital. The new accounts underscore how sexual harassment in the tech start-up ecosystem goes beyond one firm and is pervasive and ingrained. Now their speaking out suggests a cultural shift in Silicon Valley, where such predatory behavior had often been murmured about but rarely exposed.

Hunger /  by alicia johnson

Research for the novel Hudson:
A New Novel from Roxane Gay, Hunger
 

from The New Yorker:
Gay also used the platform (Tumblr) to discuss the culture’s punishing relationship with aspects of her own identity: fatness, bisexuality, and blackness. She wrote about the murder of Jordan Davis and, powerfully, about her rape at the age of twelve.

 It is curious to be reminded, in Gay’s new memoir, “Hunger,” that she was first drawn to online forums by the promise of anonymity. The memoir deals with her rape, her overeating, and her struggles with her public and private identities. Before the dawn of avatars, she lived on IRC, “an old-school chat program with thousands of channels populated by thousands of lonely people who were mostly interested in talking dirty to one another.” The memory contrasts with the tone of the book, in which Gay is constantly defining and defending herself against others’ expectations. Increasingly, she has become not just a writer but a spokesperson. Gay, who rejects the ideal of “(th)inner woman” while also wishing that she could herself be smaller, has drawn the ire of fat-acceptance advocates, who presumably wish that Gay were a less equivocal role model. In “Hunger,” she writes candidly of her position, returning to the theme of contradictions: “I have been accused of being full of self-loathing and being fat-phobic. There is truth to the former accusation and I reject the latter. I do, however, live in a world where the open hatred of fat people is vigorously tolerated and encouraged. I am a product of my environment.”

Remnants /  by alicia johnson

Research for the novel HUDSON:
Melissa Kreider's project REMNANTS featured in WIRED recently. 
The photography project underscores the need for an open conversation to dismantle the shaming of victims and change the nature and tone of how "the telling" happens.

From WIRED: 
“I know all these really amazing women now, some who are 20-years-plus out of their assaults, and it’s really awesome for me to see that as someone less than a decade out of her own,” she says. “It makes me feel like it can get better.”

According to the Bureau of Justice Statistics, 431,840 people were raped or sexually assaulted in the US in 2015, the most recent year for which statistics were available. Yet the bureau reports that fewer than one-third of sexual assaults are reported, and only a tiny fraction of perpetrators are convicted.

In an interview for her book, Daring Greatly, Brene Brown describes the ideal as "sharing our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding," in that context, she says, "shame can't survive."

the hero & the bitch /  by shannon gallagher

As a child, I was the architect of an exquisite and impenetrable fortress. Despite my best efforts, I could not build it around my exterior, and so I went in and many layers deep. I built a panic room in a coal mine, and I spent decades there. 

I've always considered myself a kind and gentle person. I shy away from confrontation and conflict. I'm empathetic, and often overly so, at the expense of my own feelings. 

But when I am hurt, when my boundaries have been crossed, or when I perceive someone to be a whole lotta talk with little to no action, I shut it down. 

When I'm done, I'm done. 

“I am a planet of love with a hair-trigger drawbridge that closes without much warning.”
— Danielle LaPorte

This tendency to show up in relationships, my smudged face peering out suspiciously from within the safety of my subterranean shelter, has often meant their failure. I didn't speak to my dad for 20 years. My best friend and I didn't speak for five. Stonewalling has contributed to the death of several romances, including that with my daughter's father. Often I fear that stonewalling will be the thing to kill my relationship with my daughter, too. 

I seem so cold, so unfeeling, so insensitive and cruel.

Really, I'm just too damn sensitive. 

It's taken me 30 years to learn how to soften into feeling instead of sequestering myself from it. And it's taken me a few more years to learn that being soft and open still does not mean I have to take any shit. 

Recently, in her blog post three things great leaders get about change, alicia talked about the difference between power and leadership. "leadership is what they say yes to. power is what they say no to [...] masterful implementation of change, the exquisite blending of yes and no, is how potential is achieved." 

I think there's a misconception in all this new conversation about wholeheartedness and vulnerability, and even in the "New Age" appropriation of concepts like manifestation and gratitude and love, that we are supposed to say yes to everything. To that I say, no. Just, no. 

Our potential is in our yes. But our power is in our no. 

My worthiness superhero is the one who says "yes." She leans in, she hangs on and asks "Is this fear, or is this intuition?" Asked on a date? Ok, sure. Feeling scared to share a thought or feeling? Go ahead, it's ok. Having a tender day where my heart feels as though perched upon an open window-sill? Get on your mat, take a bath, have a good cry. It's all so brutiful, isn't it? 

My gatekeeper is the one who says "no." She is the power broker, the bitch. No, that didn't feel ok. No, I will not be spoken to that way. No, this isn't what we want. 

She is tough. And she scares me sometimes. I worry that she is too rough, too cold, too judgmental, too reactive. I worry that she leads with fear, not love. 

But the truth is, her love is in her fierce and unwavering loyalty. Like a CFO or Secret Service agent, her only concern is keeping me safe, getting me where I want to go, and protecting our bottom line. The more she says "no," the more more opportunities my hero has to say "yes." 

It is a symbiotic relationship, one that has drawn me out from the depths of myself. And as surprised as I was to discover the existence of my co-conspirators — the hero & the bitch — I was more surprised to discover what it is that they have in common:

They are both bravely facing forward, out towards the world, leading with love.

Every hero needs a sidekick, a little badass yang to the open-hearted yin. 

  

brené brown /  by alicia johnson

so shannon and i are going to see brené brown in nyc on september first. i'm as excited for this as i was to go see, say, patti smith or laurie anderson... i'm, you know, a fan.

brené brown's work has given me a language, a sense of community, and some great paths out of shame. i am a fan, and i am grateful.

i pre-ordered the book and now there it is, sitting on my kindle, calling my name. 

i love the idea of rising strong. i love a full on, research-oriented exploration of stumbling and falling, and getting up. the book is described like this: "Her pioneering work uncovered a profound truth: Vulnerability—the willingness to show up and be seen with no guarantee of outcome—is the only path to more love, belonging, creativity, and joy. But living a brave life is not always easy: We are, inevitably, going to stumble and fall."

one of my favorite stan moments is when she just owns "i've made mistakes." i practice following stan's lead. owning my mistakes, growing from them. stan stumbles and falls a lot. and she gets up. i'm so excited to be reading about how others stumble and fall — and get up. 

i'm sure i'll be moved to write about what rising strong means to me, i hope you'll share your thoughts too!

aj

 

meet stan gardner /  by alicia johnson

Stan is a character that I've written for and about for many years. Recently it occurred to me that Stan is my Worthiness Superhero. I have instinctively set her in motion when I need to figure something out, when I need to face something that is far too scary for plain old me to face. Stan is capable of far more than I am, on my own. 

Stan is cooler than I am. She's stronger, and she is way, way more adventurous.  

I've come to know that I can count on her to get up.

When she's knocked down, when life seems like more than one soul can take, Stan gets up.
That's a hell of a superpower to depend on.

This site is an exploration of the basic idea of creating a Worthiness Superhero. We see a worthiness superhero as a tool in what author Brené Brown calls shame resilience.

‘We’ are Alicia Johnson and Shannon Gallagher.

I am Alicia. I created Stan.
Shannon is a personal change agent. (She's shared more about herself in I Need a Hero.)

Shannon and I have worked together in a number of ways over the years, and the very funny part of this site is that both of us are total scaredy pants about being seen.

So we agreed to lean into Stan’s chutzpah and step out into the light — and to make something that we believe has value for ourselves and for others. 

This is Worthiness Superheroes (or as we affectionately call it, WHOOSH!). As so many do, the idea for this came into being of it’s own accord, springing itself on us rather fully formed as a site, a practice, a speaker series; a platform that sheds light on paths out of shame.

Here’s how we intend to use this site: Shannon believes that calling on your own worthiness superpowers is critical to manifesting positive change in your life. She will use the site, and facilitating the development of worthiness superheroes, as part of her change practice. You can read more about that, too, in I Need a Hero.

I am finishing a digital novel, POSITANO: WITH EYES OPEN, that sets Stan out ahead of me once again. I'll use WHOOSH! to connect with people about shame and worthiness and the unique value of having a worthiness superhero. My sense is that the people who will love the story will have an affinity with the notion of a worthiness superhero, and will have done work of their own in the whole shame area (imagine my hands up and birdlike as i say “shame area”).

As I work on this note, though, I also sense that this could be a great place for writers to introduce characters. A place to poke at what their characters mean to them. Stan came barreling into my life a decade ago and every day I’m so crazy glad she did.

We hope that if you found this site you'll share your own Worthiness Superhero, and join us in lighting the way.

I keep thinking to myself “how cool is this?” We are calling on our highest selves to make something happen that we believe in. For me, even though I think it‘s cool, it scares the bejeezus out of me. And then in that endless internal back and forth, I think, “Why not, what's the worst that could happen?” Maybe I'll tumble and fall, crash and burn, fall flat on my face, or flat on my ass... and I settle on this: I’ll be OK. I've learned from a superhero about the art of getting up.

— aj

i need a hero /  by shannon gallagher

I've done a lot of therapy in my life. Some of it has been really good, some of it really not so good.

The good has brought me to startling levels of self-awareness and understanding. It has brought me the validation I've needed. Solace, accountability, clarity. 

But rarely has it ever helped me know where to go from there.

It turns out, that when you want to be different, when you want to change — to be less reactive or bolder, to be softer or unflinching — cataloging your various issues does little to get you there. 

It's not enough to know what you're moving away from. You have to know where you're going. 

In their book Working on Yourself Doesn't Work, authors Ariel and Shya Kane suggest that it is only through assuming a position of compassionate curiosity towards oneself (rather than an active "I'm gonna fix what's broke" attitude) that we can truly transform. 

What this looks like is simply paying attention. We welcome all we notice with loving kindness. And then slowly, over time, we start making different choices. Our attitudes and words and actions start to shift. The transformation happens organically. 

To use Danielle LaPorte's words, you have to leave the church of self improvement for the temple of you. 

It takes a willingness to look. At all of it. It takes reverence and awe and a sense of humor. You have to be willing to welcome your shadow and your light. Not just the shiny parts. Not just the socially acceptable parts.

Every last human part of you. 

Brené Brown, the mama bear of the vulnerability movement, says in her book Daring Greatly, that "None of us is ever able to part with our survival strategies without significant support and the cultivation of replacement strategies." 

If this is true (and it is), then where do we find that significant support? How do we cultivate replacement strategies?

We can find support in our family and friends, in books or music, at an ashram, or in therapy. We can stop drinking, lying, overeating, overspending, being a doormat, and take up yoga or meditation. We can embrace radical honesty. We can embrace our fragile, mystical humanness. 

But how do we do that? Because anyone who has tried to break a habit or reinvent themselves knows that the struggle is real. When we start recognizing shimmery bits of our truth, our true nature, our soul says "Yes! That!" It falls in love all at once. But our behavior, our bodies and minds, resist. They cling to what is known, what is familiar. And it's not to be stubborn. It's not for lack of willpower, or weakness of character. We literally have a primal aversion to doing things differently. We evolved that way. To our amygdala, anything unfamiliar is unsafe. 

It's an epic battle. Not between good and evil (because really, we're all so, so good), but between what has been and what can be. 

And when the fate of your potential happiness hangs in the balance, what do you do to assure victory? 

You call in your worthiness superhero. 

They offer significant support and a replacement strategy. A way to define what Brown calls your "practiced values" (what you do), and then cultivate your "aspirational values" (what you want to do).

I've known and worked with Alicia for several years. And so I knew of Stan through conversation, though it wasn't until last year that I met her myself, in Positano. Stan is Alicia's worthiness superhero. She is the strongest, bravest, most resilient parts of Alicia. Truth be told, they're really not so different, even though the magic of a worthiness superhero is saying that they are. 

I have created my own worthiness superhero. She is outgoing and outspoken. Ace at negotiation, relationships, and loving unconditionally. She's had many names and has shown up in many ways in my work over the years, without me knowing it until now. I couldn't recognize her until I knew she was there.

When my back is against the ropes and the urge to just duck out is strong, she is the one who steels us and throws the first punch. We may still end up flat on the floor, but we fought the whole way down. 

And so here we are, us four. Alicia and Stan, me and mine. I so hope that you choose to join us here. To share your stories, your characters, your worthiness superheroes. We're all in this together, as they say. You're never really alone. 

Whoosh.

-Shannon