K11 Owners Group

[Shoganai]

I have a great fear that has been affecting my life for most of my life. At it’s worst I mean heart pounding, teeth clinching, and palm sweating raw panic. I’ve spent most of my waking hours denying it even existed.

It’s unrealistic by every measure possible, but none-the-less very real to me.

I didn’t recognize it by its true name until this week.

I believe one must call a thing by its true name before one can master it.


I was 5 years old and managed to climb up on top of our house. I was playing hide and seek though Mom didn’t know. So I was quite as she walked around the yard calling my name. Now understand my Mom had been legally blind since she was 18. I finally answered and she asked me if I wanted some cookies. Well, of course I did, so down I scrambled.


Later that day when Dad came home, he moved the storage cabinet I used. That was all I knew until Mom told me the rest of the story many, many years later.


Her version was a little different. She said as soon as she realized where I was and that she couldn’t come get me, she grabbed the fear that threaten her reason and choked it into silence. Then she calmly bated me off the roof.


She trusted me because she knew I had no fear of heights and if she didn’t instill her fear in me, I would be able to get down by myself.


I’ve climbed trees, and towers. I’ve skydived and rappelled.
No, I’ve never feared heights.


I used to think I didn’t have any fear in the classical sense, I learned this week I was wrong. The moment I knew it's name, I called Steve.


I started handling snakes by age 10. Growing up on a farm provided me with lots of freedom to explore and my fascination with all living things was not limited by what some would call a healthy respect for poisonous creatures.


Mom was cooking supper one cool summer evening when I came trotting into the house proudly holding my latest hard won acquisition in a two fisted death grip. No sooner than I had bounded past the kitchen table, still panting from the run, did the young eastern rattlesnake vent his frustration at my disrespectful handling of his person. Mom spun around still holding the chicken and yelled at me, “Get that damn snake out of the house! Charles, get in here, Gwen’s got a rattler!”


I’m already aiming for the door when I hear Dad knocking over furniture and coming my way. Frankly I was scared shitless of my Dad’s anger, and the pissed off legless one in my hands would make better company at just about that moment.


I’ve caught more snakes than I can recall; rattlers and cottonmouths, as well as darn near every non-poisonous in South Carolina.


I have zero fear of snakes and for that matter most living things. That is not to say I don’t respect them or what they can do if I’m careless or fail to recognize when I’m in over my head.








Fear is strange to me in that it can disguise its self.


I’ve never met a stranger. And because of that I’ve placed myself in circumstances where some would say I was foolish. I guess they could be right, but my heart and trust has never misled me.

I’ve slept in odd places.

I’ve rode with strangers.

I’ve entered homes of people I’ve known less than an hour.

I can talk to anyone, anytime, anywhere and never hold back whom I am.
I just plain trust because I lack some quality of fear in that regard.
People ask me when I travel alone on my bike, “Aren’t you afraid?”

Well, no I’m not.

I simply cannot understand it. I wish I could, because I feel like I’m missing some key, basic human ingredient and that I’m just stupid, un-teachable, and naive.

That may be so.

I wish this was my fear, and then those who love me wouldn’t worry so much.

But it’s not.


I’ve heard some people fear being forgotten. I’ve always looked at that as one of the wonderful gifts of the Universe. I happily embrace the Universe reabsorbing and recycling my Up, Down, Charm, Strange, Top and Bottom into stardust and dark matter.


It will take my Weak and Strong forces and mould them into black holes and new planets. Can there be a greater legacy?


I love the night. I think even more so than the day. I revel in walking in the woods or out on an isolated beach under a full moon. At times I find myself in the wee hours walking through a town.


There are dark, forgotten places in my soul that know fear though. Places where names, faces and details are lost forever, and only some vague disquiet mark their gravesites.



But Mom remembers.



She told me yesterday.



I have some difficulty remembering details. Instead, I mostly remember how events make me feel. And therein is the seed of my fear. I have no memory what so ever of my middle school gym teacher. None. It’s like the Universe has reabsorbed her.


But Mom remembered her.


I called Mom yesterday to tell I did something I’ve never done. I wanted to share my victory, terror and excitement. I would guess that most people reading this is expecting some Earth-shattering news, for that, I expect you’ll be disappointed.


“Mom, are you sitting down?”

“No, do I need to.”

“Yeah, I think it would be a good idea.”

“What’s wrong dear?”

“Nothing Mom, I just wanted you the first to know I bought my first purse today.”

“Oh, Gwen! That’s good news. Do you like it? What does it look like?”


Thirty minutes later I was a 100 years closer to my mother.



So there I was, 12 or 13 years old, full of explosive energy and a love of running. I ran all over the farm. I ran even when running was frowned upon like at Church. I ran for the love of running and the feeling of speed. I guess looking back from here; it would become the foundation for my love of motorcycles.

Again, I have no memory of the events in detail, only the way they made me feel.

I had developed breasts early and was a double D by this age, and was feeling the uncomfortable attention of rude young boys and small minded, petty girls. But I was fast. I was the fastest girl in my class because I had been running all my life.

Enter the female gym teacher.




Yes, I had been running all my life with joy and enthusiasm. But that was about to be turned inside out, twisted and reshaped into something dark and sad. Something would die in me that year and it rotting carcass would fill my nose with disgust.


The gym teacher refused to let me tryout for track. Even worse, she refused to allow me to run at all in class. Mom said it was about the worst possible time in my development, to have my spirit crushed. At that time she didn’t know about this http://www.advrider.com/forums/showpost.php?p=8314805&postcount=345 .
I wouldn’t tell my family until I was 18 years old.

Maybe I was running to stay ahead of my fear. Maybe I was running to get away. Or maybe I was just running for the sake of running. But no matter what it was I running to or away from, she took it all away.

She said running would make my breasts scar with stretch marks and cause back problems. My mother fought her, but the school principle supported the teacher and after three sit down meetings, it was over. I would never run again.

Mom said I changed that year and was never the same person. I become sadder and with drawn. I threw away anything that was girl like. I cut my hair short and I gave away my dolls.

The loathing had begun.



That was 1974 / 1975.

Then a series of events would bring me to buying my first purse 35 years later.


Months ago, in an effort to help me, Steve told me he typed up a letter to the "What Not to Wear" TV show to nominate me and I went to pieces. I was shaking all over, sobbing like a child and experienced the most terror I have ever known. I still don't have the courage to read what he wrote; even though I know it was written from a heart of love.


Then this thread happened.
http://www.advrider.com/forums/showthread.php?t=401076

http://www.advrider.com/forums/showpost.php?p=8244546&postcount=106


Quote:


-----------------------------------------------------
Originally Posted by Shoganai
I have a question.........

How could somebody like me learn how to be feminine?
I well and truly have no idea.
See I grew up hating being female. I hated everything about my gender.
I hated the way I treated. I've carried a lot of shame throughout my
life for just being born female.
So I rejected all external expression of my gender. No makeup, no
purse, no dresses or dressing up, no fancy hair, and no jewelry even
at age 45.
How can I overcome this while remaining true to myself and not faking
it for the sake of trying to fit it or please the man I love.
I don't know where to begin.
I'm crying, I want to try, I really do...
-----------------------------------------------------



So I took a LOA from my routine for this and other reasons and began “Seeking peace in all things”. I was in fact not actively following a set course so much as clearing the clutter from around me. I removed all the distractions I could identify, including much of my internet time. I starting seeing a “Talk Doc” and taking Lexipro.

I focused on my health, and addressed some issues.

I under went an EGD and there was no signs of cancer. I've had GERD's for 15 years, and have been on Prilosec / Zantac all that time. Recent pain in my chest forced me to have it checked out.

I had a Septoplasty and Turbinate Reduction surgery. It will remodeled my badly deviated septum and improved my ability to breathe. (not a nose job) At age 20, I was riding a horse, and he threw his head back into my nose.

And I saw a pulmonologist. He says I have asthma :baldy (but in truth, I'm not surprised, I've just been putting it off for years and dealing with it) He started me on Singular (pill) and Imtal (inhaler). I have stopped the coughing fits that made me pee myself, or vomit and I’ve stopped being so short of breath with any hard activity.

Together, I look forward to better health, energy and stamina. :clap I've put on 40lbs since breaking my back and if I can improve my exercise tolerance, then there's a chance I can loose the weight.


All this was the equivalent to shaking the wrinkles out of a sheet. Not a clean slate, but a open plate ready to receive new thinking. I worked on just keeping my mind open to possibility.


Everything was in place this week.

I went to Belk’s to buy a bra. That’s all really. Normally I do this by keeping my eyes down, walking fast, grabbing what I came for and getting the hell out of there. I don’t want to look at what makes me uncomfortable.


But something happened.


I wasn’t afraid to be there.

I didn’t feel all that bad. Yes, I was tense, but not in a paralyzing fashion like in the past.

My plate was ready and I filled it with things I’ve never bought for myself. The purse being the most symbolic. I feel I may have turned a critical corner in my life and I hope to continue to explore this part of me I never got to know.

Thank you for reading my story.


I understand if you buy a purse, you need something to go with it...









I know it's just clothes, but for me this was a HUGE step forward.

My mother is and has been an incredible human being and role model but more in that she never forced us into any mold or role. I know it must have disappointed her that her first little girl, was anything but a girl. No pink ribbons in my hair, no going shopping for dresses or all the things mothers do with their daughters. She let me be the best me I could be, even if it wasn’t who she thought or hoped I would be.


My father later in life expressed deep regret in treating me like the son he would never have. He thinks it’s his fault and that had he pushed me back into Mom’s arms; I would have been more normal.


I told my parents that without Dad taking me under his wing, I would have been lost.


Lost in the most profound sense.


Because Dad nurtured my passion for mechanical things, and developed my problem solving skills (he was an engineer) I had the foundation I needed to do the transmission job in Alberta when the Shop Whore stripped the clutch plate. I couldn’t have done it without Steve and all you, but Dad set me up decades earlier.
_________________
1993 K1100RS aka The Shop Whore
1994 K1100RS aka Blue Streak

The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there.
So slip the chain and I'm off again,
You'll find me everywhere. I'm a Rover. - JT


Nana korobi ya oki

[Scott_Anderson]

Congrats to you. :clap:
You look very nice in those blouse's.
More later.
_________________
Ride safe.



1995 K1100LT 0302044
2017 FLHTK Ultra Limited
Garmin StreetPilot 2820
Garmin Zumo 550
Garmin Zumo XT
"One who does not ask questions is ashamed to learn" Danish proverb
1997 K1100LT 0302488(R.I.P.)
1997 R1100RT ZC62149(sold)

[Off the grid]

Beautiful Gwen!

I love you just the way you are.

Or just how you choose to be.
_________________
Bane of your existence since July 2006
2007 Triumph Tiger ABS. "Sabertooth"
2009 Husqvarna TE610. "The dirty Italian mistress"

[Klinker]

Thanks for this.

Funny, but after I hear you sharing a story personal growth, I realize how I am affected. Specifically, how it gives me pause as I consider my role in my 11-year-old daughter's world...a good thing during the week leading up to Father's Day.

I know you recoil from "Shogs worship," dear, so I'll throw out a bit of envy. (Is that OK?) I envy the uplifting impact you have on others - by simply being yourself.

So, as you were.

...and what you are to become...
_________________
tlp
1994 K1100RS

Only the Reasonists. They believe in an evidence-based world, something called Rationalism. But it's a tiny group, not so influential.
- Page Griffin

[rydor]

All right, Gwen!!!
I'm proud of you!

[DaveVoorhis]

Beautiful!
_________________
'93 K1100RS
Dave #3

[Stoked Steve]

Wow Shogs, I'm so happy you've found a side of you that had been shut away for so long.

I don't know what else to say....
_________________
Steve
Virginia Beach, VA
93 K1100RS Mystic Red SOLD
12 Suzuki DL650A VStrom

[fnord]

If you feel feminine, be feminine. Don't fight it.

If you feel tomboy, be tomboy. Don't fight it.

Be Shogs. That's all.
_________________
1993 K1100RS
1999 Jeep Wrangler

[mnb]

It's good to face one's fears and learn to take their power away. But it's not easy, as we all well know.

It sounds like you're making some good progress in discovering your lost self.

Keep at it.
_________________
M N B
1997 BMW K1100LT ABS Special Edition
2003 Husqvarna TE610e
2007 Harley Davidson Road King
2009 BMW F800GS
2011 Husqvarna TE310
2014 Ducati Multistrada Pikes Peak MNB Edition

[Klinker]

[Jim Brotherton]

I don't know if this comes out right but let's give it a shot.
I know what I thought was important way back when, probably has no bearing on what I feel and think now, I think you need to go with what you feel comfortable with and I feel in your case that is not a problem cause I know the people here love you for just the way you are (however you want to be). We all have issuses to work through, and some will never ever be put to bed, the best we can hope for is that we won't let them control our lives.

You go girl, and if you need I will follow
_________________
1995 K1100RS
2004 R1150RT

[John Clauss]

You can take solace in knowing that what happened to you most likely never happen in a school setting today. It is amazing the effect that a seemingly small event for an adult can have on a child. ALL people need to remember that, wether or not they have their own children.

Your new outfits look great!
_________________
1997 K1100LT
1975 R75/6

It will bring you so close to nausea, it will make you sick! - Big Al

[endoman100]

Gwen It's because of you that I replaced the fork seals myself, You are one remarkable person no matter what you wear, It's your love for life and k-bikes and the love for other people not as fortunate as others that you give that makes us respect and love you back.
God bless ya
_________________
In the words of the stones
Time Is On My Side
Yes It Is
1993 K1100RS

[Shoganai]

[Milton]

NO FEAR!

That took a tremendous amount of courage to expose such a vulnerable side of yourself in such a public forum. I believe you have the love and support of everyone here. And from what I can gather from all your past posts you have the love and support of a very special life partner, Steverino.

Our past can certainly influence our future and our view of ourselves. You have made a good first step in facing it and taking action to overcome it. YOU GO GIRL!!

I hope our paths cross at some time some place.

All the best.

Milton S.
_________________
Jethro Tull: Thick as a Brick!

1992 K100RS 48K. Dead for now.
1998 Triumph Tiger 43K->56K. Doin it in the dirt.
1978 Honda CB400T 32.5K. For my boys.