The Ugly Duckling
I've spent some of my time this spring and summer re-reading "Women Who Run With the Wolves," by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I first read it many years ago when I was a young wife and mother, trying to survive and trying to make sense of who I was in that context. What I took from it then helped me in many ways, but it spoke to me differently then, and gave me different lessons. No surprise.
I've been particularly fascinated this time around by her rendering of the story of The Ugly Duckling. She begins with the classic Hans Christian Anderson tale (and some regional variants) and then weaves meaning in and around the "children's story."
Throughout, she explores what happens when we are born into families to whom we don't "belong." They don't understand us and we don't understand them -- no one's fault; it is simply the nature of our disparate realities. That has always seemed to be my experience, and my frustration with my family. They are good people, they really are, but they have always seemed as foreign to me as I am sure I have seemed to them. No amount of reaching has ever seemed to bridge the gap that has ever spanned between us. That remains true even now -- perhaps even more sincerely and supremely now.
What Estes elucidates is that the ugly duckling does not transform into the swan. The ugly duckling IS a swan. It is not about becoming something different and "better." It is about becoming who and what one really is. For those of us who are born into families to whom we do not really belong, that becomes a lifelong quest and a journey. We are lost and alone in the world, doomed to flail and flounder until we find those with whom we really belong, and the difficulty and the danger is that we likely will believe that we ARE ducks.
For me, it has been ironic, this journey to becoming the swan. I was, when my Master and my T found me, truly an ugly duckling -- hiding behind frumpy clothes and granny glasses and dowdy hair. It was as if I did not know any other way to be or look. I really was trying to be the duck that I thought I was.
When Master first began seeing the swan in me, I thought that it was something that He'd done. I realize now that the "transformation" was that He saw me. Knew me. Gave me the home I'd never had. In coming to Him and to T, I finally found the place that I belonged.
swan Link
posted by Sue @ 10:21 AM
8 comments
8 Comments:
Wow, I really can relate. I always felt ugly and like I didn't belong anywhere.
I have always loved the story of the Ugly Duckling. Hans Christian Andersen told it so well. I wonder where he got it from, was it an old folk tale, I wonder? Its message is universal, there must be equivalent stories in other cultures.
Presumably Tom called you his swan with this story in mind?
I think many of us feel the story applies to us. It applies to me, I know. Then, I posted a piece on my blog today with my very intelligent but foolish son Nick in mind. He converted to Islam, to my great bewilderment. Perhaps he sees himself as an ugly duckling turned swan, too! And have I been trying to pretend he was only a duck?
I have that book on my coffee table! I found it really interesting and insightful reading...
:) *hugs* thank you for sharing the way you do....
swan you are one lucky lady, yes that story is universal, not everyone can see the Swan in each of us though it's there, lucky you, thanks for sharing,
Good to find like souls, all of you who resonate to this bit -- thank you. Bless you, my dear sister-heart for your kind words. You were not anchored in the beginning, Lovey, only surprised and stunned and caught off guard and scared of what we were embarking on. Who could blame you? We were heading into unknown territory. You were brave and honest and open and loving, and my dear friend even when it was hard and scary.
And as for the "thinking" behind Master's calling me swan, Malcolm -- some of it may have been an intuitive sense of this reality. He is like that in many ways. Some of it was in response to my teasing Him about refering to me as a "big, strong, muscular girl." He might be able to say more about what led to the "tall, beautiful swan" label than I really can.
swan
I must come back again to say how much I appreciated T's comment. Yes, T, you are lucky, and so are we all, to have contact with sue, a very lovely person. No-one could gainsay that!
I just wanted to say I've delved into your archives and really enjoyed the reads--you are all articulate and intelligent. I hope you don't mind a link on my site, and my thanks for clearing up some major questions I've had about polyamory.
Post a Comment
<< Home