Yesterday, my Instagram algorithm showed me a parade of rapture reels:
đđś the born-again girl calling her atheist friend to ask her to adopt her dog after she got raptured;
đđťââď¸đ¤¸đ˝ââď¸ the trainer demo-ing a warm-up sequence to prep your body to be snatched up into the sky (wouldnât want whiplash!);
đđ the question about whether youâd be raptured clothed or naked, head first or feet firstâŚ
It felt so good to laugh. These days I have exactly zero fear about the rapture.
It wasnât always like that
By the time I was eleven, I had raised my hand at altar calls more than once, and whispered prayers to be saved before falling asleep too many nights to count. But one summer evening, in the largest evangelical church in Temucoâa church founded by my missionary great-grandfatherâstands out.
A Thief in the Night was the film. Apocalyptic horror, though no one called it that. The sanctuary was packed. And hot. Then dark. Tick, tick, tickâwhat I thought was a bomb turned out to be the ticking of a clock, followed by an alarm going off. Heart at a gallop. Goosebumps up my arm.
Seventy minutes later, when the credits rolled and the lights came back on, my mom was no longer next to meâshe had slipped up to the piano. As her soft notes began, the preacherâs voice dropped low and slow: Are YOU ready for when the Lord returns, like a thief in the night?
Yes? I think so? I hope so?
My anxious little arm shot up. Again.
âMe, me!â I thought. I didn't care if it was the hundred and first time. I wasn't risking the last one not having taken.
No wonder
Of course I didnât want to be left behind when everyone I loved disappeared. Of course I didnât want to be abandoned on earth with Satanâs minions and the Antichristâaka the beastâin charge.
âNo wonder,â I say now to young-me. No wonder you raised your hand again and again. Iâm right here. Iâve got you.
So you can understand how good it feels to laugh about something that once terrified me.
Beyond belief
Healing, for me, has been about much more than parsing what I do and donât believe.
Itâs my body feeling safe enough to be present, to laugh, to play, to work, to relax, to enjoy...
It's about my body and mind being in sync. Because itâs one thing to say I donât believe such and suchâand another to not be anxious all the time, whether about hell or anything else.
One sign of healing: laughing more easily.
Another: the freedom to live my own life and my truth without apology.
The âwithout apologyâ part is still in progress, haha. Some days feel light and free, and other days... well... others show me whatâs left.
Like right after I sent âMy bikini debut at 57â
For me, that 10th issue of The Awarewithall was a proud and joyful middle finger to patriarchyâa celebration of visibility in an aging, nowhere near model-thin body.
The responses from women came in quickly: âGo Heidi!â âSo proud of you!â âCelebrating with you!â
The resonance felt like a chorus of solidarity.
And then there were also a couple of sexualized replies from men. And just like that, my loud and proud shrank as old shame rose up: What did I do wrong? Did I lead them on? Was that icky reply my fault?
Thanks to the layers already healed, I noticed pretty quickly what was happening.
âDid I do something wrong?â I said out loud to my husband, handing him my phone with the email open.
Even as I asked, I could recognize the old messages that are still, in part, internalized.
âNo!â he said. âDo I need to go beat him up?â which made me laughânot only because it was sweet, but because of the old patriarchal script in that response, too. Another layer. Another laugh.
A few days later, I brought it all to my therapist, and together we shone some friendly light on whatâs left of my shame-based conditioning.
Spiraling, in a good way
Healing is not once-and-done, but layer by layer.
"Like a spiral," I sometimes say to my clients. We circle back to a similar place, but this time at a different layer and with more resources like connection, friendliness and curiosity. And always, safety, which is what nervous system healing is all about.
Every time we circle back at a different layer, we get to integrate the healingâvery practically, and in real time.
What about you, Reader?
Is there something thatâs better nowâmaybe even something you sometimes laugh aboutâthat still, from time to time, brings shame or insecurity?
Hit reply if it would help to say it out loud. I read every note.
So much love,
xoHeidi
P.S. Do you like getting The Awarewithall? Forward this issue to a friend!
Or post a link to one of these reader-favorites in your socials:
The Awarewithall #10: My bikini debut at 57â
The Awarewithall #7: That time I made my dog a cabbage braâ
The Awarewithall #5: Co-regulating with my cheffiesđŠâđłđ¨đ˝âđł