Telling Your Heroine's Story Writing Contest: Honorable Mention Liz Starr

You Asked Me - by Elizabeth Starr

You asked me once - Did I hear a call? Did you wonder if I sensed something greater than me was pulling very hard on my soul, and making me awaken from the bad dream of my life?

On the outside, it all looked pretty good, it looked like I was making it. Yet deep inside, I knew I wasn’t happy, no, not really. I had been trained for the life I was suffocating in, so it felt normal. My dreams and happiness were sacrificed for the dreams and happiness of others. I felt like my bridges to a real life had all been burned, and I was stuck in “The Land of -This is As Good as it Gets.”

I loved the farm I lived on. I loved the chickens, my beautiful dogs, and I loved growing corn, potatoes, and beans. I grew beautiful flowers to share with my friends. I lived on thirty wild acres in a lovely town. Sounds idyllic, right?

Yet, there was inside me a small voice, whispering to me, and it was reminding me of greater things. So what about me? There was no place on that farm for me to paint, to create art. All the places of solitude were claimed by others for their needs. There were no extra funds in those days. All my money went into the farm, it literally went into the bellies of my cohabitants. I did all the food shopping and cooking, and so I began to feel like everyone’s maid and their caretaker. Housecleaner. Meal planner. Grower. Farmer. Harvester. All for others.

So what about me? Trained by my culture to be a good “wife”, but the problem was that I had bigger gifts burning within myself, and those hot embers were making themselves known. And there was another thing, a worrisome thing that was increasingly difficult to ignore. My partner had a “secret” drinking problem. This little secret thing manifested in his outrageous behaviors. His narcissism was becoming a really big problem for me. And a growing sense of impending violence. I am a bit ashamed to say that I entered into that relationship with my eyes open wide, but I ignored the red flags. For a new relationship holds a promise of a deepening love, doesn’t it? I joined this man in his home with his small family with hope and expectations of sheer joy.

I was in no way prepared for the war that came, slowly at first, mixed with times of peace, but then an all-out war on my time, labor, and even my character. I was informed there would be no “free rides” in this house, as if I were sitting around watching TV all day. I worked, I went to create money for this family by cleaning houses, since there was little else I could do at that time. All my hard-earned dough went into their lives to help them. And yet the man demanded more. He would awaken me in the middle of the night to tell me his demands in a loud voice.

I felt like I was going to become unhinged.

Did I tell you that this was familiar? That I had been through the Alcoholic Drama twice before?

Did I tell you that I was very adept at talking down an alcoholic from their rages? I could sweet-talk the Elephant in my living room into calling it a night, “Go and lie down, honey.” “Sweet dreams!”

Right! Another Voice was challenging me to see the truth.

I don’t know if you knew that I am an alcoholic, too, but I am a Recovered Alcoholic, and it has been over thirty years now since I drank even a drop.

One sunny and bright cold January of 2016, I walked out the door and fled to freedom. I never returned, except to try to get my personal belongings. That was a separate war. I was homeless again. I called three numbers, and one said, Come. I spent almost five months healing at a friend’s home in Woolwich, Maine. Then I couch-surfed until November, when I found a tiny one-room sanctuary in Bath, Maine. I had work helping an elder, and so I was employed.

I began to offer pet sitting services, and that helped me even more to get ahead. It was around Christmas of 2016 that I sat down at a small table in my rented room and began a drawing. Then more drawings. And then watercolors, and then acrylic paintings. I painted all that I was experiencing here in Maine, and I painted what had been hiding in my Artist’s soul for a long time.

If this all sounds like it was a breeze, let me assure you that it wasn’t. I think one of the hardest things is believing in yourself during such a life-changing struggle to survive. I tell you that the whole world has its strong opinions on what you should be doing. And I had fear, and big doubts, and I had very low self-esteem. Who was I to Dare to Dream my Dreams? And who did I think I was??? To actually go and seek my Dreams?

If there is a Dragon at your door telling you that you ought to behave yourself- do not believe it!

I had friends who helped me, encouraged me, and went to bat for me. I had acquaintances who sometimes challenged me to my core. I see now that my primary belief system within me was changing. My story began with sorrow, then exploded into a bold craziness, and then a new search began for freedom to be me. These growing pains must happen in order to discover the gifts within. From prison to Personhood. From a cage to Creative Living.

Today, I have my own Voice, my Voice sings with the creation of my art. That journey within the journey is the most valuable thing I possess today. Because I am not silently enduring the tyranny of any other human to please anyone. Because I know my Soul matters and has value. We all matter, and if I can help you escape your prison, I tell you I am here for you. And all the Stars of the Universe are with you, and you are loved, just the way you are in this moment.

See you on the Path! Namaste. 

More About Our Coaches

Margaret, Kim, Kathy, and Phyllis were our four distinguished judges. They had a month to read the entries and score them. The judges evaluated the entries according to the contest criteria, and their scores were remarkably similar, making it easy to decide on the First, Second, Third, and Honorable Mention winners.

We couldn’t have done the contest without the four of them. Here’s a shout-out to what these talented women do – heroines in their own right.

We've linked their names above to their sites. Take some time to check them out. You'll be glad you did!