That Time I Met Zach Braff

I've always been a fan...from Scrubs, to Garden State, to Wish I Was Here, I've just always appreciated that guy. His sensitivity, his sense of humor, taste in music....basically we would be buddies irl had we been friends since childhood or something. Or if I kidnapped him. I'm sure that would convince him! #stalkeralert

When in New York during my treatment, it was high priority for me to see a Broadway show. I really wanted to see "Bullets Over Broadway" because it sounded fun AND Zach Braff was in it. I'm sure actual broadway actors hate when hollywood comes to 42nd Street, but in his defense he had been in London producing and what not his own play the year before which I think spares him of some of Hollywood resentment. LOL. I also wanted to see "The Cripple of Innishman" as well, because it sounded like a good play but also DANIEL RADCLIFFE. (That didn't happen, which I still kind of regret but money we aren't made of, hehe). But yeah, I was all ZACH BRAFFFFFFFF!!!! WOOOOO!!!!

Doctor Ross gave us some advice on how to get a good deal (the doctors will totally give you advice on stuff to do, we had a list a mile long before we even got there since we both had been to NYC before) and we trekked into the city our first Friday night there. Needless to say the train into the city from Long Island was bonkers, but very good people watching.  We got off the train and walked around, we kind of wanted to eat dinner at Shake Shack but we were too nervous to be late for the show. Surprise, surprise, the line at Shake Shack was super long so we skipped it and just went straight to the theater. (In the words of my college missions trip leader "early is on time, on time is LATE!").

Being the life paparazzi that I am, I took 1,000 photos. The theater was gorgeous (and actually, if you have seen the movie Birdman, it was the same theater where so many interior/exterior shots were done--- very cool). The show was so fun! Of course I bought the soundtrack on iTunes so I can sing the Tiger Rag and annoy Ted whenever I want. After it was over I was all "we gotta stick around and try to meet Zach Braff, it's our ONE CHANCE"! Ted was all "I'm starving and we're not gonna meet him, let's go roam the streets for food!"  Then we saw a queue outside the main entrance and I decided to stick around and see what happened.  A few minutes later,  out popped a freshly showered and changed into street clothes Zach with his bicycle in hand!  I gave Ted the most crazy "I TOLD YOU SO" look. My exuberance of getting to give the "I told you so look" was soon replaced by nerves.   What if I didn't get to meet him? What if he wasn't nice? WHAT WAS I THINKING!!!!! I didn't remember to get an autograph but we did take a selfie together! I wish I would have told him he was good in the show, but I couldn't think. I couldn't even remember how to use my phone. In the words of Napoleon Dynamite, "IDIOT!!!"  Oh well. Zach, if you're reading this: you were good in the show. And for the record, he was very, very nice and cool to his fans.

I did feel for a few of the other actors who kind of popped out hopefully but got zero recognition. I also wish I would have talked to them and told them they were good in the show. OTHER ACTORS IF YOU'RE READING THIS, YOU WERE ALSO GOOD IN THE SHOW. SORRY ZACH BRAFF GOT ALL THE ATTENTION.

Without further ado, here are a few pictures. For posterity! 

I think I was so sweaty by this point. How do people tool around the city in boots and looking chic? Dang. 

  The beautiful chandys! 

 When meeting Zach Braff was just a twinkle of hope in my eye. 

 Tada! I managed to figure the phone out...

Ted, probably dying of starvation ;) 

 Sorry we missed you Dan. I would have taken LOTS of pics for your hashtag. 

 the shake shack we didn't go to (sad music). 

 "Hello fans, I'M HERE! EEEEEAAAAAAGGGGGLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEE!" (notice the Wish I Was Here shirt)

 "Sure, let me just sign that program for you!" (why didn't I think to do that? silly) 

 "wow, it means a lot to me that you're telling me you thought I was good in the show. Now we're best friends". 

"Huggy hug hugs" (said like JD, from Scrubs)

 She probably couldn't remember how to work her phone either 

Zach says, "well, I'll just keep this phone then". Also I love the range of emotions of the one lady and her husband to the left. 

Hooray for good memories!

As a note for anyone who might be visiting here who are considering going to WTC, I think it's so important to take time to celebrate you and your personal journey on your trip. This is a momentous event that will make a HUGE difference in your life! Even if your budget is tiny remember to make this a happy and fun occasion--you deserve to be celebrated! Over coming a mostly unheard of medical situation isn't easy on anyone, and you WILL be cured if you go to the Women's Therapy Center! Hats off to having courage, to being brave, to kicking anxiety's butt!  So celebrate that, celebrate you, and celebrate the beginning to the rest of your life. That's an order:)

My Journey Part 3- Finally There!

 I think the most helpful thing I could say to those of you thinking about visiting the Women's Therapy Center is simply to GET THERE.  You've been battling this for months, years, decades. Warrior, once there you are done battling.  You just gotta do what the good doctors tell you--it's no longer solely your burden to bear. Just follow orders soldier. They will help you conquer it, and so so so so SOON you will be doing things you never thought possible. You will be the one in control, not your body.  If you get there, you will be cured! And even though you will be scared (there is not one patient who doesn't enter those doors feeling terrified) each step is taking you closer to living victorious. 
You will feel at home here--this is coming from someone who has feared and loathed doctors with a passion! They will get to know you and figure out your best plan for you. Believe me when I say you are so capable of doing this.  I wish me from 5 years ago could read this. I'm grabbing my own face and saying this to me of the past!!! 

I'll share with you something I don't quite understand myself--this whole beast has been built around a feeling (I know, it's physical too. I really couldn't shove anything in there when trying so so hard even after the "fear "was gone. I know I needed help, a professionals help to teach my muscles to behave...I'm not down playing the physical component in any way).  This feeling that there was a place inside myself that wanted to be left alone because to intrude on it would mean excruciating pain and violation.  But you know what? That place, that thing I was afraid of never existed in a physical way! Being cured, you know your vagina is just supposed to be a passage way that works, always. That place inside you that is you can't be reached by anything physical and so my fear was so unfounded in that way. That place you think will hurt like hell (because maybe your attempts in the past HAVE) really doesn't exist. It's just your body, and it was made to work. You aren't defective. You aren't alone. And there are professionals who are trained to train you to train your mind and body.  Not to say you won't have moments of training discomfort, but it is not this crazy and terrifying pain you feared. "That thing"I learned is called anxiety and it you can't let it win. It's really good at mind games. I could not defeat it on my own. It's ok to get help in your battle.   I don't know if anyone else shares this sentiment but I felt like I needed to write it. I've never told anyone that, and I think people struggling with Vaginismus need to hear realness on the subject.

I really am begging you at this point--if you are on the fence or thinking you can't do it....you so can. Somehow get the money. Your body was made to work!

While there, we ended up having a blast. I know, if you are on the other side you're probably thinking "Yeah right, I'll be hiding in my hotel room and hating every minute". You won't! Take a victory lap around the city, (and the Long Island too!) let yourself have fun. Don't let anxiety (anxiety is selfish and it wants to take all your joy) rob you of enjoying being in a new place with lots of exploring to do. Doctor Ross will help you--directions, suggestions, help-anything. We made friends, I got massages, and I MET ZACH BRAFF. So I have vaginismus to thank for meeting Zach Braff, haha.

Here they are. The real people who are trained precisely to help you. You aren't "the only one who couldn't be cured". You will be. JUST GO!!!! 

My Journey Part 2

By nothing short of a miracle, we decided in November of 2013 to get ourselves to The Women's Therapy Center. New York or BUST!

But let's back up:

I excitedly told my husband about this place on a rainy November  afternoon. I had heard about it a few years before but for whatever reason I just didn't think I needed it. I thought the dilators would work. I thought if I could just get through my annual exams that things would progress and I would just "get over it". I thought if we just. kept. trying. we could push our way through and that would be that! I had all the knowledge in my head of what needed to happen. I thought I had a high pain tolerance and it shouldn't be an issue anymore! I was always yelling/pep talking myself and then not being able to fix it myself. I was the definition of insanity and denial! Anyways,  I had spent most of the afternoon (it was a Sunday) watching success story videos in bed on the WTC website while Ted was watching sports downstairs. I ventured onto the site because I was even more down and mopey than usual after a weird situation had happened over the course of September/October. Basically, someone we knew, knew someone who was pregnant was going to need to give up her baby for adoption. The person had already had several children who had been taken at birth and put in the foster care system. This mother (through counsel) thought maybe she wanted this child to go to an a family through adoption instead of through foster care. The contact thought of us. I told myself not to get my hopes up. Unfortunately and against my will they did. Of course, as these things tend to do, everything went sideways and FAST. We did not get that child. Lots of drama. Not even on our part but I guess other couples were already in the mix and duking it out over this baby who would be battling through withdrawal the minute she was born. The mother went totally off the grid, she probably felt so much pressure (and I can't say I blame her!)  When the dust settled the baby did end up with a different married couple.  I was feeling even more down and confused than ever about our situation. I just felt so betrayed. We hadn't been seeking this out! We hadn't been trying to force our hand at becoming parents before this Vaginismus thing was settled! I had been praying that God would make us parents when He thought the time was right. I thought God was smiling on us, answering my prayers in a way I hadn't seen coming, and sending us some encouragement at a time when we felt very very bleak. I was mad because I wasn't even looking to get my hopes up on the parenting front. I was getting ready to turn 30 in a few weeks. I was DOWN. So,  as per usual, I took to the inter webs for moral support and ideas on how to get cured. Looking for stories of people who had conquered this demon and HOW EXACTLY HOW THEY DID IT.  I was getting zero traction with the dilators. I was feeling so low about my ability to ever get over this hurdle. I couldn't even bring myself to go back to my OB/GYN without a good report on the dilators. I was keeping myself AND my husband from moving forward in life. It was all. my. fault. !!!!!!!!!!!

I stumbled onto the The Women's Therapy Center website and this time it clicked. So many happy smiling faces with MY EXACT STORY. But theirs had a happy ending. And now, FINALLY, maybe mine could too.

  It was so strange, to feel that tiny twinge of hope growing in my chest. It was weird and new because for years it had been calloused over and over by scar tissue. Self defense I guess.  Especially after that random adoption maybe baby debacle. I was so scared to feel hope and scared we would NEVER be a be able to afford it. Talking it over, Ted seemed skeptical. I think he thought it was an ashram or something. I totally understood that but then I had him watch the videos and read what others had written about getting cured.  He said "let's do it! I'll do whatever you want to. This seems legit!" And that was the beginning of the END of vaginismus.  I know that while I was upset with how things went down with the hope of adopting, it ultimately led us down this path.



More to come.

One Year Out ---My Journey Part 1

Whoa, I really can't believe it's been a whole year since arriving at the Women's Therapy Center. This is such a hard topic for me to write about but I know so, so important. Not only to remind myself of where I have been and what God has done in my life but for those women out there who haven't reached their cure yet. I know, in my years of being in the thick of it I would have loved (and eventually did) to get my hands on a real life account of someone dealing with the very same issues I was. The same issues I thought were so strange and weird that no one EVER was like me and I was a strange, broken, and destined to always be "stuck" and never move forward.

  Before we went to the Center, I really couldn't imagine life afterwards. All I could visualize was getting there. It seemed like life would drop off a cliff...I literally couldn't imagine a life where I wasn't thinking about this situation any longer, a life without this struggle. I was really looking forward to it, but couldn't really imagine it (even though I have an imagination that runs wild most of the time)! The scenes I could visualize over and over were these: the first being of a mountain climber who had been climbing, alone, for a very long time, finally reaching the summit. Reaching the summit and looking around and finally, not only reaching the goal but gaining lots of perspective. Standing tall on top of the mountain and knowing that battle had been won. That feeling of peace and joy knowing there was hard work but it was now this moment could be enjoyed, fully. The second scene I could visualize was that of a person who had been held captive, or been lost in the wilderness. I would see that person being pulled into a rescue copter and just the sheer relief of watching that difficult time get smaller and smaller in the distance. That giddy, almost arrogant feeling of victory. (In your face, hard times! You can't keep me down!) Lots of yelling and fist shaking) I could see myself be so glad to leave that chapter of life behind.

I guess I have a flair for the dramatic? :)

Where to begin? I guess I'll begin somewhere in the middle. If you have already been diagnosed with Vaginismus then you are probably obsessively searching the internet daily for tales of cures and fixes. You're probably hoping and praying it will just "work itself out" and your body will learn to cooperate, as you try over and over and over and over and over to defeat it. You're hoping that those dilators your doctor had you order from the internet will help. You're probably dreading your next doctors appointment to have another failure on your hands (no, I couldn't get anywhere with the dilators. no, physical therapy exercises for my pelvic floor didn't help). Maybe you haven't gone to the doctor yet, but know what's going on. Maybe you have no idea what's going on but you know something is wrong and things are not working and you're really, really, really, frustrated. Or in denial. Or both! And also depressed. You feel like your body is  defective in a way that is so bizarre that it's not even included in the manual as things that could possibly go wrong. (i.e. my first doctor who said "geez, I've never seen anything like this. You MUST have been abused as a child" (No, I have never been abused, and A+++++ in bedside manner, Doctor McTheWorst).

 For awhile, even after I found out about Vaginismus I felt like I just couldn't be cured. My current doctor (who has been very gentle and non judgmental) recommended I used a dilator kit, which is a way to cure yourself. I felt so much guilt and self hatred that these did not work for me! The last straw that made me single minded to get cured was the idea that if I didn't handle this once and for all I would never be able to be a mom. Even looking into adoptions, Vaginismus wasn't really something they would accept as an infertility issue, and depending on what you're doing adoption-wise some countries will not give you a child if you are in "danger" of having your own biological children. I didn't want to explain Vaginismus over and over and over to anyone never mind someone who is deciding whether or not you are worthy of raising a child. (I was terrified they would think I had a mental disorder, and not consider Vaginismus a plausible thing). Even to have a child that wasn't mine biologically it seemed as though we would need to conquer this once and for all.

I stumbled onto this blog and read about this couples experience at The Center. Then I found the center's website. I watched video after video of couples with the exact same struggles who had been CURED by Doctor Ross and Doctor Ditza (and now Doctor Lauren). The patients seemed so free and jubilant. I finally felt like there was hope! THEN I read "A Private Pain" which I recommend to any OB/GYN office in the world to have as a resource so no doctor will ever EVER say again "I've never seen anything like this before". I recommend it to any person who either IS struggling with Vaginismus or who knows someone who is or has. If we educate people, women will not SUFFER IN SILENCE anymore and will know, they are normal and this happens, and it can be CURED! 

Stay tuned for more on my experience at the Women's Therapy Center this week in celebration of my year of being cured! 

What It Feels Like to be Free

Call me Andy Dufresne. Consider me Shawshanked.

I don't even know how to write this post or truly explain in a way that would be understandable for most people of what life has been the last six years. Or longer, if I'm being totally honest.

You could start here.

 Or here.

It's not that life has been bad. Not at all. I love my life and all the people in it. I love my home and I have a job where I've been able to grow and find a spot just for me. I have lots of interested and ideas and am generally very excited about life.  I have family and friends who I love, not to mention two furr babies that take up a huge chunk of my heart. And a niece and two nephews who made my heart grow even bigger. Life was and IS good, but it was lacking.

But that terrible monkey on my back was slowly killing me, no matter how hard I tried to fight. And boy did  try. I hate it, but it took the spark out of me for far too long. It was so frustrating to have your body reject you on such a basic level. To try to make things "normal" only to hit a brick wall time and time again. To doubt your sanity on a daily basis. To be dead inside. To watch as other people grew up and flourished while you sit idly by, drowning in your own self doubt and self loathing. The never ending cycle of trying to "fix it" and the terrible pain of not being able to fix it on your own, but not knowing who to turn to because how could you describe what was wrong in the first place with out derision, mocking, or disbelief?  To hide your true self from friends and family and create such a space and distance between yourself and everyone else.

I honestly never thought I would be on the other side. The other side of my worst fear. I can't even explain how this dominated my life! I can't begin to explain the pain and isolation! I can't begin to explain the sadness and anger! I can't begin to explain how little of my true self was left. How hopeless I felt.

But oh there is hope. There is good news! I want to scream it at the top of my lungs every. single. morning.

I am free. I AM FINALLY FREE! 

 I wouldn't trade my experience. How could you ever know true freedom without having been imprisoned? It's such a reminder of God's love and freedom through Christ. I was dead in my sins and trespasses, no way could I make it to heaven on my own. But a miracle happened and I'm saved and free. And now I am saved and free from this demon too.  What a reminder. What a freaking daily reminder that I cannot get over!

I know life isn't going to be all roses and sunshine all the time. But man, am I counting my blessings and amazed at what God can do. Amazed at the doctors he brought into my life who deal with this particular demon every single day. Who have cured so many women who have struggled alone for  years and decades and even more years. Who have given hope and LIFE to so many women who thought they were beyond hope. PRAISE GOD FOR THEM! Praise God he chose to let me be cured and live to tell about it. To help others who struggle and think the are alone. To be support for those going through treatment that they too will see the other side and be stronger and better for it. To be an anchor for those going through deep waters. To have a marriage that has blossomed and survived harsh terrain. To have friendships that have done the same.

This is what it feels like to walk in the sunlight.

THIS is what it feels like to be free.

The Girl and the Iron Door

The Girl and Iron Door

Like many stories, this one begins like this: there once was a girl.  She was smart and happy. She lived a quiet  simple life in her small village where she was very comfortable. She had books to read, music to make, and friends to laugh with. Although she was very happy she often dreamed what life outside the walls of her village would be like.  There was a stone wall surrounding her village but with age came the privilege to come and go and the girl was excited to see life from a different perspective. When the time came, her friends and family watched as she packed up her things to begin her journey. The morning she was to leave dawned clear and bright, full of hope and promise. The girl was excited but also a little nervous to be traveling into the unknown. It gave her courage that all was well as so many people came and went from the village each day. She hugged her loved ones and promised she would soon send them news of the new people and places she was going to visit. With a bittersweet feeling she walked out the door, head held high and began to walk. 

She bounced through town with a spring in her step, waving and smiling to friends she came in contact with. Slowly but surely familiar landmarks became fewer and farther between but she continued down the path towards the wall. The wall which always seemed small in the distance was becoming larger, looming in the distance. She began to wonder where exactly there was an opening. She hadn’t come this close to the wall in a long time and couldn’t remember.  Her mind felt hazy and she felt her heart start to beat more quickly. The path was reassuring, it must be taking her to the exit. Why would this path be here if there wasn’t a way out? She tried to reason her racing heart and kept foraging ahead.

Finally, she was close enough to the wall to see. She sat on the ground  momentarily to catch her breath and set down her pack.  There was a sturdy-looking iron door, that must be how people are coming and going. No one had ever mentioned a door to her before. Everyone always seemed like coming and going was the easiest thing in the world. She wondered if it needed a key or if it just pushed open. “Don’t be silly!” she scolded herself. “If it needed a key you would have one! Someone would have told you! Just go and open it!”  Before she could get up she saw another girl walking towards the door. “I’ll watch and see how she does it, then I will do what she does” she thought. There was a nearby tree she leaned up against as she watched.  The other girl walked without a care in the world. In fact, she did not even slow her stride when approaching the door. She watched in awe as the other girl sailed right through the door without even flinching or making any other moves. How had she done that?! It looked quite easy but almost too good to be true. She stood up and straightened up her shoulders. If that girl could do it then obviously so could she. As she approached the door images of a heavy red door smashing her fingers played out in her head. She imagined it slamming and never allowing her back inside the village. Anxiety started to choke up her movements, her stomach felt like someone was wringing it in their hands. There was a knot in the small of her back and she felt light headed. Why was this door having such a strange effect on her? What was wrong with her? She forced herself to put her hand on the door knob. She was jolted by an electric feeling that shot up through her hand when she tried to turn it. She put both hands on and tried to push it open but it would not budge. It singed her hands and she turned and ran back to the tree. 

She tried to regroup. What had just happened?! That other girl had simply floated right through while the door couldn’t have been more troubling for her. She looked down at her hands expecting to see them bubbling up with burns. Her skinned looked normal as if nothing had happened! What was wrong with her? Was she cursed? She was so embarrassed that she couldn’t figure out the secret of the door and had given up so easily. She decided to sleep on it and try again in the morning. She curled up under the tree and fell into a sleep filled with nightmares. 

She awoke to the sound of birds chirping and to footsteps. The girl from the day before who had left the village was walking down the path carrying an armful of flowers she had picked from outside. She was humming and looking so carefree, it was maddening!

“Excuse me!” she called out. 

“Yes? Can I help you?” the other girl peered at her.

“Please, tell me your secret!” she begged, beginning to feel desperate. 

“What secret?” 

“How do you leave the village? How did you get out?!”

The other girl looked at her with a very confused expression. 

“I just walked through” she said with a strange look on her face and continued on her way. 

She slumped against the tree. She buried her head in her hands. Was it all a cruel joke, some kind of hazing? Was she not meant to leave? Her stomach churned and her face burned in shame. Soon her family would be expecting news of all the exciting adventures she was having. What would they think when they found out she couldn’t even begin? She spent the day crouched under the tree watching people come and go. At night she crept back to the door, not wanting anyone to see her try and miserably fail again. The same thing happened only this time the door seemed larger, more scary, and somehow more tightly locked. Every time she approached it she would break out in a sweat, her heart would pound, and her stomach would curl into a tiny knot. This was not normal. No matter how brave she tried to be she could not master the door. Some days even the thought of it made her sick. So she tried to put it out of her mind. 

Time passed and the girl discovered many ways to entertain herself in her new abode under the tree. It was pretty interesting to watch all the commotion of people coming and going. She made a cozy tent and filled it with books and flowers. She tried to be happy and accept her new lot in life. Anyone who tried to befriend her she held at arms length. She was friendly but nothing beyond surface talk. She didn’t know how to tell people about the door. She knew they wouldn’t understand, just like the incredulous girl she had asked for help. She had nightmares about the way that girl looked at her, like she was  crazy and out of her head. She couldn’t bear her family looking at her that way or her friends from the village. So she kept to herself. 

One day, the girl was sitting up in the branches of her tree reading a book and day dreaming. She felt the tree shake and noticed a boy was climbing up. She scowled at him when he got to her branch but that didn’t seem to bother him. Couldn’t he tell she preferred solitude??? She didn’t want to tell anyone about the Red Door.   He sat down despite her unwelcoming attitude and said “I hear you have a lot of good books, do you think we could make some trades? I’m going on an adventure and need something new”. He held out a bag of well worn books and they began to talk. Then they started to laugh. They traded books and read aloud and sang songs. The boy didn’t leave. The girl didn’t mind. It was very nice to have someone around that made her laugh. 

Time and seasons passed. The rains came, the snow came, the flowers came, and the door and the girl remained the same. Watching as friends came and left with tales of the cities they saw, the new ideas they had learned, made the girl melancholy. Everyone else was changing and growing and they were stalled with no hope of moving forward.  Somedays the boy and girl would rail at the door and try to approach it.  Then long periods would come where the door wasn’t addressed.  Every passing minute the door wasn’t resolved chipped away at the girls soul. It left her empty, a shell of her former self. The girl that was excited that day long ago  was long gone. What was to be done? She had never heard of anyone else having this problem so there must be something wrong with her.  To her core she felt humiliation and the burden of letting down friends and family that after all this time she couldn’t do a simple task that all people from the village could do, and do it with ease. And not only could she not do it but was terrified of it. One particularly bad night the boy woke to her pounding  and clawing at the door screaming into the night. “Why won’t you just go without me?!” She raged when he approached her. “Just leave me here! This is where I belong. You don’t belong here!”She collapsed on the ground and felt the last bit of light escape from her. He sat down beside her and said he wanted them to go together. He didn’t know how to make that happen. They cried for the millionth time over the iron door. 

After many, many days of sameness something happened that set things in motion for change. The day was just like any other. The girl was selling and trading books to people coming and going from the village. She got a new book from a traveller and was interested immediately. It was about a girl who had trouble with doors. Her heart stopped. Dare she get her hopes up? It must be some kind of mistake. She sat down under the tree and poured over every single word.  Tears rolled down her cheeks. Every line was as if it was from her own head. Doors that wouldn’t open. Sadness. Pain. Isolation. Stagnation. But then….hope? Hope was a foreign concept to her.  The book detailed a girl who also fought the demons of a door. She couldn’t conquer the door on her own but got help and defeated it. Defeated it?!? It was possible? Who helped her? The book called them the “Door Keepers”. Was it real? Could these Door Keepers really help? 

With fear and excitement she showed the book to the boy. It was as if something inside her had shifted.  He seemed interested but skeptical, was it just a work of fiction? Was it real? It seemed like they needed to make a decision. Choose the safety of the tree and forget life outside the village or decide once and for all to defeat the door. The safety of the tree had turned into a strangle hold; safe but smothering. Enough was enough, they decided to send for the Door Keepers.  The girl decided the sameness was more crippling than the fear. So the fear would have to be dealt with to reach change. 

The Door Keepers sent word they would come. The girl was the most anxious she had ever been. What if she failed? What if opening the door hurt beyond what she could bear?   Finally,  on the day they arrived the girls fears were put at ease.  With kind confidence  they reassured her others had been suffering like her and that she too could move past this. They could teach her to open it if she would follow their guidance. Then she would be free. 

With determination they began to work, the Keepers teaching her the ways of mastering the door.  Talking her through her fears and motivating her to keep going. With each small victory the girl began to feel the chains on her heart loosen.  In a few days time the door didn’t look so intimidating. Finally she was ready to go through to the other side. The Keepers told her to just walk through. They said to trust and just do it. She took a deep breath and walked without wavering. As she approached the threshold something miraculous happened: the heavy iron door became an open tunnel! She blinked. It was still a tunnel! There was no door in sight!She could see mountains, a river, and a field of wild flowers on the other side, and a fork in the road and signs pointing in many different directions. Where did the door go?! She turned excitedly to the Keepers. Maybe it was magic. 

They smiled. It had always been a tunnel but she had always seen a door. It didn’t make the door any less real, but the fact of the matter was NOW it was an easily passable tunnel and she could see it that way. She knew beyond a shadow of a doubt without the Door Keepers she would never have been able to make her mind open and teach her eyes to see the truth. “How can I thank you?!” she cried, hugging them. They laughed and told her to go have adventures and let any other girls who might be held up by a door know there was hope. They gave her a necklace with a key on it as a departing gift and a reminder that she had the key to the “door”.   The Door Keepers packed up their tools and headed off to help another girl who was waiting to be released from the prison her door had created. 

Fresh waves of joy she never thought she would feel again bubbled up inside her. She ran to the tree where the boy was waiting and grabbed his hand. “We’re free to finally go!”she proclaimed . They left the village and never looked back. 

THE END