part0007

I’ve been thinking about Jane Jetson lately…she was the dutiful wife of George Jetson, from the 1960 television series, The Jetsons. She always tried to make life as pleasant as possible for her family. She was a stalwart member of society and even appreciated the Arts and the fine things of life. She kept up with her friends with their version of Skype, but on occasion she put on a mask. What was really behind that mask? Besides the curlers and makeup remover? Have you ever felt like you’re living behind the mask of a “Strong Woman”?

I have and still do. I put on the smile each day and sometimes go about pretending my life is picture perfect. Why do I do that? Why do I think I need to do that? What is it that happened in my life that makes me think I can’t show real emotions when things go “bad”? Why do I feel I need to be composed and in control all of the time? Was it the culture I grew up in? I’m certainly not going to blame the warm, loving and supportive family I grew up in or the quaint Vermont town I lived in. But could those have contributed to my living behind the mask?

Well, for the first time in my life, I feel like it’s time to take off the mask and become the authentic woman that I really am. Yes, I’m strong…mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, MOST of the time. But so often I put on the happy smile and the words “I’m fine” fly out of my mouth as if rehearsed on a daily basis. I’m fine because I want to be FINE…F ulfilled, I nspired, N aturally beautiful and E xceptional and I want to be fine because everyone else wants me to be FINE! But many times FINE means something less than fine! Fine means it’s time to leave me alone with my problems and concerns. Fine means I’m okay but don’t want to talk about it today. This is not a “tell all” book, but I feel it’s important to tell some things because you cannot grow up holding “stuff” in for a lifetime.

I grew up in the small town of Woodstock, Vermont. There were only about 2,500 people in Woodstock, and we were the brunt of many jokes about how there were more cows in the town than people. I think people said that about the whole state of Vermont!! I loved living a mile out of town even though my parents didn’t drive my brothers and me up and down Church Hill at every whim. We learned how to ride bikes at an early age or we walked through the woods to our friends’ homes. In the 1960s we didn’t worry about people hurting us like we worry about people harming our children today. We would leave home after breakfast and get to town or the country club and spend until dark with our friends. We didn’t have cell phones and immediate access to mom and dad. If we needed something, we would go to dad’s office at the Ottaquechee Health Center or we would find a pay phone and give mom a call. We were very self-sufficient children back then!

Although Woodstock was a resort town with many wealthy visitors throughout the year, the majority of us were year-round residents, and there was definitely an economic difference between the “locals” and the professional people who had come to town as doctors, lawyers and dentists .

My dad bought a dental practice back in the early 1960s after he served several years in Burlington, Vermont, as a dentist in the US Air Force. Although he, my mom, my older brother John and I moved to Woodstock and became an integral part of the town, we occasionally felt like outsiders. I think mom felt it the most, but she kept very busy at church and in civic organizations and was always taking meals to one old lady or another!

I learned how to serve others by watching my parents. I did the things I was supposed to do. I went to church on Sunday. I excelled in school academically and athletically. I played the flute in band and even held parts in drama presentations. I didn’t feel like an outsider until I was around 14 when my older brother went away to private school and I was contemplating a move in that direction also. I remember my friends giving me a hard time about “being too good for them.” I had always been on sports teams but was never part of the “popular” group. I was outgoing, friendly, kind, and the only thing I did differently than most of them was I’d go to Long Island every summer to stay with my grandparents and cousins. That was a treat and it got me out of town for at least a month. The only time my summer stay went sour was the year I wanted to get my ears pierced and my grandmother, a very opinionated Norwegian, wouldn’t let me because “only the bad girls get holes in their ears” and that’s not her language, that’s mine!! Mom ended up coming down to get me early and we went and got our ears pierced together. I don’t think Grandma ever thought of me in the same way again.

I went away to private school when I was 15 years old. I went to Phillips Exeter Academy, which was considered one of the top secondary schools in the country at the time. I didn’t feel any more privileged or “better” than my friends at home. I just knew I could get a good education at Exeter and could play on the field hockey, squash, and tennis teams, and I was excited to go away. Except for two close girlfriends, I lost touch with most of my hometown friends.

The hardest part about leaving for Exeter came weeks before I was supposed to go. I was at church one night for a youth group meeting. It was January in Vermont and the temperatures were in the teens. It was freezing outside so my mom went out to warm up the car so she could come and get me. Mom went back in the house for a bit but soon noticed a very bright light coming from outside. Something exploded in our brand new station wagon that was parked in the garage, and it set the garage and part of the house on fire. As chance would have it, the all-volunteer fire department was off celebrating a wedding, and it would take some time for them to get notice and react. They did an extraordinary job of getting through the snow in our back yard to get water out of the swimming pool, but the garage was burned to the ground and the house was severely damaged by water and smoke. All of my things - clothes, stuffed animals, and books - which were laid out for school were ruined. The smell of smoke was awful and to this day it makes me cringe. My family home was destroyed and it would never be the same. Thank goodness no one was hurt in the ordeal and I learned that family was more important than any THING in the world. My need for safety was sorely tested here and when I left for boarding school I felt very vulnerable and scared.

Part of my Exeter experience was realizing that I wasn’t one of the smartest in the class and that everyone there had been like me - a big fish in a small pond, so to speak. Now we were minnows in a big pond and it was very intimidating. I couldn’t get home often because we had Saturday classes and then games. I struggled with class work because for me it was like doing college work as a child. I didn’t express my fears to my parents or to my friends at home because I didn’t want to look like a whiner, and I certainly wasn’t going to quit. I had to study harder than I ever had to before, and I was competitive to the bone and determined to be a success. I did so at the expense of spending my teenage years at home with my family. Looking back at this stage of my life, I am sorry for that because there are times when I believe my parents got to know my best friend at home better than they did me. That may not be true, but the thought makes me sad.

Throughout my adult life and multiple careers, I have been admonished to keep things quiet, confidential, SECRET (or TOP SECRET in my Air Force life). I always had to hold things in confidence so when it came to divulging what happened to me after dating online and other life events, I just did what I’ve always done…KEPT QUIET! I wanted to write my untold stories because my story is YOUR story. Each of us has a powerful event, at least one, from our past that we’ve kept hidden from others and have pushed to the back of our minds yet it’s still in the front of our hearts and is in some way holding us back from being our true selves. I want to inspire you to uncover that story…remove your mask and STAND UP to your Power. Stand up for your heart, your health, and your happiness.

Before I can stand up to you, I need to sit down and reflect on how I’ve used the mask throughout my life to protect, to pretend, and to progress. I invite you to come along on my journey and make it your own journey.

How could a normally grounded, articulate, well-trained, intelligent woman be lured into a two-year online romance which would leave her emotionally and financially devastated? Why would she ignore admonitions from her family and closest friends and listen to the words of love and encouragement from a man she had never met and would never meet? What was it about the daily contact she had with her special man that trumped almost everything else in her life?

Wow, those are really good questions and the answer to them could be “I don’t know!” But over time I’ve learned that I’m not the only one who has been emotionally manipulated because the heart ruled the head. However, I am going to be the one who will tell the story in hopes of keeping at least one more unsuspecting, trusting person from being ensnared by the international web of deception.

I may never know exactly WHY this happened to me, but I know there is a reason why I’m sharing this with you now. My story could be your story. My story has been real life for many others already, but it doesn’t have to be anyone else’s in the future. Pay attention to how subtle the web of deceit was woven in my story.

How in the world could you get so intertwined financially with someone you haven’t met in person? How could he become such an integral part of your life? Those are a couple of questions many people have asked me over time, but let me tell you, things happened so gradually over two years that for me the red flags were never there.

Everyone likes a “Once Upon a Time” story with the “And they lived happily ever after” ending. I do and I’m sure you do, too, so I’m going to give you one…at least one that starts with what you expect!

Once upon a time there lived a lovely woman who had just about everything that was important to her. She had the husband of over 25 years, four wonderful children, a loving extended family, good health and most of all, happiness and joy. Of course, there were some bumps in the road and not every day was spent eating bonbons and watching reality TV (ahhh, can you imagine that!), but for the most part, things were very good and that’s what she wanted everyone around her to think.

Now, this story isn’t going to reveal all of the hiccups encountered throughout my marriage. Anyone who has been married for more than one day will tell you that things happen and the romantic, hot relationship turns to comfortable, steady and sometimes just plain tolerable, but if you want it to survive and thrive, you do whatever you must to work on it. Married family life was one of the most important parts of my life because I had seen the joy and success of my parents’ marriage for more than 50 years, and I so wanted to emulate that. Nothing was going to ruin what I valued as my greatest treasure…nothing until the day of “The Call”!