Domesticating Stella Cole

One of the things that my brain has done, as a result of trauma, is that it has created distinct boundaries and limits for different aspects of my personality. In order to preserve my psyche, parts of my Self have "split off" and existed outside of, or despite of, some seriously heavy trauma. It's hard for me to talk about this part of my lived reality without sounding like a complete nut-case--but I spent years living wild as Stella, and it never felt wrong.

I can't tell if Stella is who I would have been, or if she was born out of who I became. All I know now is that she is an undeniable part of my personality, my spirit & my life. One night sitting in our dorm rooms, must've been sophomore year in college, she was given her name. We were calculating our "alter egos" and the Cosmo magazine suggested we use our middle name and our street name. Nicole Cole didn't have the right ring to it, but something has whispered "Stella" into my ears and it rolled right off the tongue. Stella Cole.

Stella treated men the way men treated women. Stella wasn't bound by standards or opinions. Stella blazed trails, took chances and lived in the moment. Stella showed me that I have the power to manifest anything that I ever dreamed of. Only back then I was dreaming of bongs, blunts, beers and boys. The only thing that was domesticated about Stella was that she knew her way around the bedroom. For most, she may have seemed aimless or destructive. And at times, she definitely was. But she was always what I needed; for better or for worse.

Stella took the bull by the horns after Quinn was raped on campus. Stella helped Quinn stand when their older brother was almost killed in a car accident. Stella fought back to Quinn's abusive ex and was a channel for Quinn's rage & heartbreak. Stella gets on stage to perform. She kills it in the interview and wows the passersby. Stella is the one you fall in love with.

We nearly lost her over the last years. She wasn't sure how she fit into my new life. That's only because I didn't fit into my new life. Never sure if I was too much, or not enough. Am I loving hard enough? Am I getting what I need? What do I need? I needed Stella. I needed the part of my self that would blaze a trail for Quinn to follow. I needed that part of my Self that would stand up in a crowded room, or in front of the mirror, and scream the obvious things that need to be screamed. I needed that part of my Self to be strong enough to keep me together. Not just strong enough to stir shit up, but strong enough to hold shit down.

I had to call her back and let her in, or out. I had to marry the parts of my Self that I tried to drown. Stella hasn't always been healed, but when I put her away for a few years, she had some time to grow. She had some time to observe and reflect. While Quinn was healing from the wounds Stella initiated, Stella was becoming the greatest healer for her Self. While Quinn was learning how to love all of the parts of her Self, Stella began to appear in new ways.

Quinn attempted to domesticate her Self. A futile attempt for a half broken mother of 2 under 2, who was missing parts of her Self. Stella reared her head. We found new ways to engage in old sabotage until we tapped back into the old ways of our self-success. Stella reached for the tarot cards, Quinn reached for the phone book to look up the number to a good trauma shrink. There were pieces that we needed to put together and we needed to work as one to do so.

Over the last few years, I have found ways, and am still finding ways to feed my "shadow" without letting her take control. I have found ways to keep Quinn safe with the extreme "protective" measures Stella used in the past. Quinn's emotions and Stella instinct's have slowly become domesticated. But like, in a good healthy way. Like in a way dogs are man's best friend, but wolves howl at the full moon. She is domesticated enough to be her own best friend and to truly care for her own well-being. She is domesticated enough to be compassionate and intentional. She is domesticated enough to help others through peril and grief.

The wild parts of her could never leave. They allow her to create art, make bold exclamations & to ask for what she truly desires. The wild parts keep her connected to her intuition and the energy of the Divine. The threads of her wild spirit are woven between being punch drunk in love with life & healing generational wounds. We are upon our Solar return and have so much to love in the moment.