Chapter 11: Her Voice, Her Power, Her Peace

This podcast is intended for mature audiences only and may contain content that could be triggering. Please listen with discretion. I'm the preacher's daughter, an empty she of what's been lost on February 13th at 1:43 PM I received this phone call. Well, Stephanie, uh, it's dad and, uh, I hate to leave you a voicemail on this, but I want you to realize the importance of the call. Um, your mom went to heaven today.

She was in a plane crash with and Guatemala, and all three of them, uh, died in a plane accident. Don't know any other way to get ahold of you than this number. I, I apologize for that, and I, I wanted to let you know and to make you aware of it, baby. Okay. Um, but love you. Talk to you soon. Hopefully. So at this point, um, as you heard by the voicemail, my mom. Died that day, February 13th, 2023, and I am so used to. To being manipulated.

I go online just to make sure it's true, disconnected from my family, and I had to cut everyone off years prior to this. And then things in my life at this point are so much better. And then this happens. And I never had dealt with my mother issues. And then online, I discover that a lot of other countries are not censored when it comes to, uh. The content that they're putting online from the news and the, the plane was, um, just burning on the ground. There's video of it and I'm watching it.

Literally, it was just the three of them in the plane. Her younger sister and younger sister's husband, they were missionaries in Guatemala and it is on fire, I mean. And then the aftermath pictures are just charred remains. There's the front of the plane plane, the back of the plane. And, um, I, I was sitting with my partner at the time and asking like, where are they? What happened to them? I see the front of the plane.

I see the middle of the plane, and, um, then you realize what you're looking at or. Charred bodies. Um, and I had nightmares about that for a while. I could not cry for at least the first three weeks. Um, I was shocked and so disconnected at the same time.

And then I ended up having a very big panic attack about three weeks in. And, um, my partner was trying to gently come to the bathroom that I had locked myself in at this point. Um, trying to make sure I'm okay and I'm yelling, please do not come in. And finally, I start yelling everything she ever made me feel is in my head again, it's in my body. And I had just learned how to self-love and I felt good for the first time.

I was so angry because in her death, those unresolved issues, it's like she just flooded me with all the negativity that she had given me all my life. And I've never been able to pinpoint what it is. I've never understood how she did it, and I think that's what happened in my last relationship that shook me to my core. Was my mom was a narcissist to the point that she hurt me from being born until an adult, and I didn't know how to figure that out.

I just always thought something was wrong with me. And in her death, all of those feelings came back. That's why it's hard to deal with the pain I felt from her. The pain for my children at that point. Was so immense, but that was the time that the pain for myself. Became greater than ever before. And it's like I'm grieving myself all over again. Like, what is wrong with me? Why do I feel like a failure? Why do I feel like I'm not good enough?

And so, of course, 2023, right back into therapy, um, my therapist was just like, oh my God, my mom, if she would've gone in a natural way. I think I could have processed it even better, but the fact that it was like this was, it was horrible. I wouldn't wish that upon anyone, and so it was just layers of confusion. Psychology Today published two powerful articles by therapist Darlene Lancer. I. That explore the roles of the flying monkey and the scapegoat.

With a narcissistic parent, everything revolves around them. Their needs, their emotions, their image. They crave attention and they control the narrative. Flying monkeys are the people they recruit to do their bidding. It could be a friend, a sibling, and sometimes even another parent. Who is the one who will guilt, shame or gaslight others all to protect the narcissistic version of the truth.

And then there's the scapegoat and the one that's blamed for everything and punished for problems they never caused. Just to preserve the Narcissistics perfect image. It's not about what the scapegoat did, it's about who the narcissist needs them to be. A 2023 study backed this up showing that the more narcissistic a parent, the more likely a child was cast as the scapegoat. This role leads to higher anxiety and depression and to adulthood.

So when Stephanie tells us she grew up carrying the blame for every broken rule. She's not exaggerating. She's describing a textbook system and research shows that the emotional bill for the scapegoat often comes due decades later. And so I get back into therapy. Now I've got some tools to realize like, something's not right. I'm not processing this.

And I'm not exactly sure what it is, but I know I don't feel like myself, and I know these thoughts are not mine, but they are the ones my mother gave me. And that for the first time was something that positive, like had happened to me out of coming out of therapy. I realized like, oh my God, I'm not just falling back into bad patterns. I have a toolbox to work with, thank goodness. And because of that, I am still working on it to this day. But I have things now that I can identify.

Just because we know something doesn't mean it disappears immediately. We still have to work hard on it. I'm still trying to figure out a way to get that block out of me that was caused

during her death, but now I'm at least equipped to handle it and know what it is. And not like when those intrusive thoughts come Now, sometimes I cry and talk about it and get it outta my system, and sometimes there's days I can actually fight it and say that's not my voice. I am starting to listen to my voice more and more every day, and trusting my voice has been the best thing that I've ever been taught to do. And I'm so, so thankful for that.

Have you spoken to your father since that phone call? I know you didn't speak to him. He left a voicemail, but have you spoken to him? I have not. He was starting to call more text message, um, and my sister at this point had also reached out and I really appreciated the way she did it. She's like, I'm not trying to cross boundaries, but I feel like you need. To know this information, and also we have some legal matters to deal with.

And so I had my partner, because what started happening, it was triggering me. I would see a name pop up like my dad's on my phone, and I was just already dealing with these mommy issues in my body. And then I would see that. Things were just triggered. And I was starting to really, it was, I was feeling it, I was feeling pain in my, like, physical body even again, I asked my partner to call my sister and talk to her on the phone, which was a big ask.

Um, but she had actually volunteered to let them know that I. Any legal matters could go through my partner and I was going to block everybody because I could not see them on my phone any longer at this point in my life. And my therapist, I had talked to her about this before I did it to make sure it was the right thing to do. Um, she helped guide me through that process, which I really appreciated. And the beautiful thing my sister did for me that day. She told my partner, she's like.

She understands and whatever I needed to have my needs met right now, it was okay. And um. I think it was the first time in my life, like an actual family member had really given me permission to set a boundary without trying to cross it. And that's why I have hope, you know, one day we'll reconnect, um, just gotta get through some stuff still, you know, that's stuck in there. And just make sure I'm in a healthy, healthy place, you know, to handle that. Did you go to your mother's funeral?

I did not. Okay. I, that was, oh man, that was a hard decision. Mm-hmm. Um, it was a memorial because they didn't have the body. Um, but for me, it was like walking into a lions den. I, I could not go. I, I close to the people that were gonna be at that memorial service and it was the right decision. But I am truly, truly thankful that I've done this podcast. It has been so much harder than I thought it was gonna be.

Lisa. I am hoping through vulnerability and speaking and speaking is power that I can help someone. To not feel alone and have the courage to listen to themselves and their own voice.

Children who grow up around domestic violence face a higher risk of emotional struggles unless they have one steady loving adult who shows up. No matter what. My children, I know they went through a lot. The hand of me being an unequipped parent, I will. I happily admit that on this podcast because it happens to a lot of us that have been through these things. They do have their lives and they're both moving forward and doing well, and that's all I could ever hope for, and I do.

Love them so much, but there will always be something in me. I think that will, it will hurt because of what they have been through. It's not a hurt or a pain inside of me that I've ever had for myself. Yes, but damn, when it's your kids, it leaves a mark. The oldest, they have chosen not to speak to me. You know, I respect that boundary and I understand we went through a lot. They have every right to be angry. Hopefully one day they'll tell me everything I did wrong so we can start fresh.

Hopefully one day she will gimme me the chance. There's not just been one person. There's been many, many people, and. I am where I'm at today because somebody was just one person to me along the way and still is. Stephanie was surrounded by a circle of warrior hearted women. They didn't rescue her, but they stood beside her, making it safe for her to rescue herself, and among them was Krista. I mean, Stephanie is is singular and unique, you know, in so many ways.

And I mean, even before I knew, like all the stuff that she'd been through, and I mean, there's still layers of the onion getting peeled back. I mean, I've known her at this point for 19 years and still learning these things and she's finally starting to appreciate the fact that she has the right to, to take up space and share these things and share her experiences. Stephanie never paints herself as a victim.

You know, in, in her kind of rehashing her story, like actually our most recent conversation, she actually was, you know, saying, I, she actually was victimized in this way, right? As long as I've known her, like she has just been this like incredibly brilliant source of light in my life and it's what's been amazing to me is the more I've learned about all the trauma that she's been through, that she's been that way despite that.

I am a strong person, but I had been literally sucked of all energy. At this point, we often ask why didn't they tell someone? But maybe the better question is what happens when they do? Because for survivors speaking up isn't just about finding the right words. It's about unlearning the belief that no one will listen, that no one will believe them. That speaking up will only make things worse. She. Shared stories very early on. Nothing, you know, like too uncomfortable.

She keeps it professional. But you know, I, I knew very early on that she was, you know, a preacher's daughter. I think her stories are a little similar. I don't have a, a preacher parents, but my parents were super conservative Catholic, um, very, um, authoritarian. That really, um, gave us kind of common ground. I think sometimes we have difficult conversations, but Stephanie is not the sort of person to ask for support.

It's one of the things that I've seen about her over the, the past, gosh, year and a half, even just a year really. She's gone from being so apologetic to finally just being like owning herself and who she is and being okay. And when I think of the characteristics about Stephanie that. Come to mind first is that that selflessness and truly making sure that others are happy and comfortable at, you know, sometimes at her own risk, which she's gotten better about, so much better about.

We'd been talking about, you know, oh, I play the drums and I found out that she played piano and sang, and so. She invited me to come to her apartment, which was right above the salon and, and listen to her play. And she sits at the piano and I can tell she's a little nervous and I sit down on the floor behind her on the carpet and I remember, you know, within the first few chord thinking, oh, okay, this I did not expect because it was beautiful. So the melody is beautiful.

And then the first lyrics are suicidal. Mother. It is not my fault, and I remember thinking shit. What is this about? Well, the lyrics are heartbreaking. You know, the chorus is, um, already broken. I can't give you what you want. And I'm thinking, man, where does this come from? I knew her as this like, joyful, always laughing a bulent person. Like, where is this coming from? There's a, there's something dark here.

There's something deep here that I don't know about, and I haven't seen it yet, but this song is incredible. I was en raptured. There's a phrase that I, I really like, which is to hold something lightly. And she is able to hold some of these really serious, heavy things that have happened to her, but she is able to have a level of distance from them that I think has enabled her to overcome them.

And the longer she is is working on that, the more I see it, um, these are things that have happened to her, but they do not define her. She would tell me these things and my jaw would literally be open and like, not amazement, but. You know, just shocked from these stories. 'cause it's nothing that I've been used to or have had to see, um, at all. Especially like the religious side of it. I come from being raised more so Catholic, not the evangelical side, which is very different. I mean, she.

Is honestly a leader. Um, and she does take a sense of ownership. It's her business and it's her responsibility to create this environment. It's amazing seeing her build her salon and the amazing environment. Um, she's built like a safe space for people to come in, um, that they, they all get along so well. It's amazing. I think that. She kind of, she follows the golden rule in a way like this is she's gonna treat people how she wants to be treated.

Just seeing her and how resilient she's been through every single thing she's gone through. Um, she has never let these things like bring her down to the point of stopping. Seeing that, honestly, like it makes you kind of look at your own life and a perspective like it helps me in my own life also be a stronger person for me.

I think the thing that has that really helped me was the love I had for my Mimi and my pop pop. I felt safe with them and I felt loved, and I think that is the one thing through my whole life I have held on to. There's also something that's been extremely cathartic about telling my story from birth till now. I have never looked at it all at one time. I'm really proud that I had the courage. To stand up for me and know something needed to change, even though I didn't know exactly what that was.

I am proud of me. I am proud that I can be my person now and listen to myself and hopefully be something for others that need it. Stephanie's me, Mimi and Pop Pop are gone now, but their love lives on inside her. The kind that raptor and warmth as a child with homemade treats, garden walks, laughter, and endless. I love yous and one of the most moving parts of this journey I've been on with Stephanie over the past year and a half happened on the last day of our trip to Texas.

We visited the cemetery where her Mimi and popup are buried. There was a chapel on the grounds and inside a piano. Stephanie sat down and played for a full 10 minutes without any sheet music, all from her heart. Her grandparents had always loved when she played, so this moment gave her the chance to play just for them. The sun was shining, it was quiet, and you could hear the piano drifting outside. It felt as if they were there.

With us listening, Stephanie still remembers every corner of their home. The smells, the safety, the love they gave her was steady, unconditional, and it planted a quiet strength inside her.

That love became her compass. It reminded her she was good, that she could heal, that she deserves to be loved, and I am so incredibly grateful and thankful for that, and I am hoping. Through vulnerability and speaking and speaking is power that I can help someone. To not feel alone and have the courage to listen to themselves and their own voice. And it's, it sucks to talk about these things. It's not fun. I mean, this has been hard. It's brought up stuff.

I've had anxiety attacks and little panic attacks and like things have happened through this process. And we knew it would, and my therapist was also armed and ready for this as well. And I, um. I'm so happy I've done it. There's also something that's been extremely cathartic about telling my story from birth till now. I have never looked at it all at one time. I am proud that I can be my person now and listen to myself and hopefully be something for others that need it.

One thing my therapist told me through this process was, even though somebody has a mental disorder, abuse is never okay, and I stand by that. Abuse is not okay. But when somebody is hurting and their story doesn't make sense to you and you don't understand why they're still in a bad relationship, have compassion, you can't force somebody out of these things. But when they need you, they need somebody strong to be there.

And um, I hope that somebody out there is just one person for somebody else. And one thing I just wanna remind people. Have compassion, have empathy for others, and try not to be too judgmental when you don't know where somebody's come from, because we all need people. Thank you. Thank you, Lisa. And just like that season one is a wrap except for one special bonus episode called, where is Stephanie now? It's coming in just a few weeks, but I wanna take a moment to say thank you.

Truly, your support has meant everything to me as I've worked toward fulfilling a dream, sharing stories that I know must be heard. I never expected the number of listeners, the messages, the outpouring of love in those who had the courage to share their own difficult journey of trauma with me. It's been overwhelming.

But in the most beautiful way, my heart is set on making a difference by lifting up voices, shedding light on what's too often kept in the dark, and reminding people that they are not alone. I've learned so much from the lived experiences of others, and I believe in the power of storytelling to bring empathy, healing, and awareness. Into the world. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for showing up, for listening and for believing in this work.

Stay tuned for our bonus episode and for season two, there's so much more to come. Listen to just one person on Spotify, apple Podcast or wherever you get your podcast. Visit just one person podcast.com for more information. If you enjoy this podcast, please share it with a friend and follow us on Instagram at just one person podcast. If you or someone you know. Is affected by abuse or is in need of support.

Resources are available and we have listed them in the episode notes, or you can call the Child Help National Child Abuse Hotline. It's 1 804 a child available 24 7. You can also text four dash Hope 2 7 4 1 dash 7 4 1. Just one person is produced by J one P production. Executive produced by me, Lisa Bloom, lead producer and story editor, Carrie Caulfield Sound, designed by Alejandro Ramirez.

A special thanks to voice actor Scott McKenley portraying Stephanie's dad, our heartfelt thank you to Stephanie's partner, Melissa Weaver, and my wife Julie k Lesky for being a part of the podcast team. Also to Stephanie's three close friends, Krista, Anisa, and Beck for participating in this series. Music for this podcast. Is from Epidemic Sound and Sounds Stripe original music recorded and performed by our first season's guest. Stephanie Michelle. And the Michelle Michelle Band.

I'm the preacher.