This Body Is Not A Curse
Photo of Rachelle on her 69th Birthday in Manta, Ecuador
I don’t know when the confusion started,
the uncertainty,
always a little bit off
balance, not quite sure
what to expect, the fear
What I wanted,
I was desperate for
Not to feel shame
when I watched other women on the dance floor…
But this feeling,
that began in that house,
with those individuals,
my biological family,
became a thought.
This thought occurred to me in my early childhood.
This thought birthed many more creative thoughts.
And these thoughts became a Knowing.
That Knowing morphed into something much more sinister,
I knew I was evil. I didn’t do evil things,
I know that sounds confusing, even to me.
But I knew I was evil, through and through,
And I had to keep it a secret.
As I kid, I remember curling up when getting into bed. Not as in cuddly. I would curl into a fetal position with these arms tightly wrapped around my legs, holding on.
When I woke I would find myself curled up in a corner, at the bottom of the bed still in a fetal position. Married, I’d still find myself curled up in a corner at the bottom of the bed. I’d stretch out and slide back into Gary’s arms.
How many of us are walking around with a silent scream that haunts, that torments?
What you just read is some of what I tell about my life in my play, Late: a Love Story.
The play is a love story, a tribute to the many people who opened their hearts and granted me entry into a world of love and community that I didn’t know existed. Yet before I could share their stories, I had to share a piece of mine. We all have a story to share.
Throughout my life healing has taken place. And there is still work to be done.
Early in my relationship with my former husband Gary, after sharing with him, “I love you,” our life took a turn neither of us could have imagined. We were making love, a joyous and pleasurable moment, then, in an instant, something took place inside of this body, and instead of pleasure it felt like swords were penetrating this very being, a pain beyond excruciating. Then came great fear and debilitating feelings of disgust, repulsion, revulsion, loathing.
Next came healing from a trauma long ago stored in this body, allowing self love.
On February 1, 2026 I woke up with this thought: this body is not a curse. In the 77 years that I’ve been alive I have never had this thought and there it was—this body is not a curse. A tidal wave of freedom surging through this body more powerful than I ever imagined waiting inside, waiting to be released. Then the tears, streaming down my face—tears of joy.
How did I not know that I believed that—this body was a curse? Buried for so long; buried so deep. And there it was, a simple thought—this body is not a curse—and I continue to heal. Freedom. Life. Love.
My heart demands that I share. If this resonates with only one person, my mission is complete.
We are the heartbeat of the world.
Radical love,
Rachelle
