By Jenna Clark
>Read more of her personal stories on her blog<
>Check out her website<
While I careened at a full gallop across a lush field on my pony, I screamed my head off, knowing that the end of this situation would end in pain. This was supposed to be an easy ride, because I had been bucked off the day before and Charlie was supposed to be a breeze. But as Charlie went faster and faster, with me clutching his mane in fear, I realized this was going to end badly. Sure enough, he came up on a fence that he realized he didn’t want to jump, so he spun to the right.
I flew to the left.
I landed on a cement road along the barbed wire fence, slamming my head so hard my helmet had shattered in the back. If I hadn’t been wearing that helmet, I’d be dead right now or vegetable in a hospital.
This is how I lived my life,: quickly, fearful and usually, I hurt myself. I always got back on the horse, but I kept the same mindset, the same fearful attitude. Eventually, the fear became so intense that in January this year, I dreaded riding. Every Wednesday, I would get a pit in my stomach, churning fear settling into my gut. Finally, my best friend and riding instructor yelled at me, after I couldn’t even get our smallest pony into a canter, because I was terrified I’d fall off.
“Jenna, you can’t be afraid of falling off. You’re going to fall off. It’s going to hurt. But you should love riding enough that you do it anyway, regardless of risk. Either you make this canter happen or stop riding.”
She’s my best friend for a reason. I swallowed my fear and damnit, I made that tiny pony canter. I shattered through months of built up fear, through sheer determination and frankly, I didn’t want to feel or look like a damn pansy. After I got off , I contemplated what this moment in time meant for me. I realized that this is what 2013 was going to present to me, whether I wanted it to or not. 2013 has been one of the hardest years ever, throwing curveball after curveball. I had a boyfriend dump me, I got laryngitis on the weekend I had a three day expo and a wedding, I started doing school full time with my business full time and I’m in debt up to my eyeballs. Yet, I knew that living in fear of the unknown was not how I wanted to function anymore.
I wanted to be honest. With everyone. About everything. I wanted to go balls to the wall, tell you about me and risk judgment by anonymous strangers. See, horses weren’t the only thing I was terrified about, it was/is people in general. I grew up abused, socially awkward and too weird for others to tolerate. As a result, I turned into an outwardly happy adult who told you nothing, nadda, zilch, about myself. I realized that this is probably why I have so few good friends, because I just don’t want to be hurt over and over again. Then I realized that I’m not alone. I’m not that damn special in this world, so if I felt isolated and afraid of the world, others probably did too.
So at the beginning of March, I wrote a blog about myself, where I told the whole world that my father had abused me as a child and that he was in prison. I told them I’ve been in jail, even if it was for the most ridiculous reason. And I was frightened out of my mind. Terror settled in my stomach for two days after I posted that blog, the urge to just take it down so unbelievably strong. But I feel I have too much to offer, too much compassion to share, to be another one of those photographers who shows you nothing but their highlight reel of butterflies and rainbows.
You know what happened after that blog? Nothing. Nobody came to me and said, “oh my word, thank you Jenna for telling the world you’ve been abused. I was raped too and you’ve given me the hope I’ll be a millionaire one day and perhaps have a circus of dancing dogs.” On the other end, no one noticeably judged me for it either, although I’m sure it happened in closed chat rooms and texts. And that’s okay because that wasn’t the point. Living authentically has nothing to do with notoriety. Living authentically is alllllll about you, baby. Let me tell you the personal outcome of telling the world I had been raped.
I am happy.
It’s simple: if you open up to the world for yourself and with no ulterior motives, you will become happy. A switch had flipped for me. Suddenly, I dealt with stress better, I no longer feel like I need a man to make me happy and I have even stopped dating for a while, when before, I went on two a week. I go out more, I reach out to people more frequently and hell, I relax more often. I had been heavily drinking but suddenly I didn’t feel the need to have a drink every single day.
I think when I decided to say, “Screw you, I’m sharing myself, whether you like me or not!!!!!” I think I realized I can be comfortable with who I am. Haters gonna hate, might as well give them a juicy topic to complain about!
My weirdness is still here in all of its glory, but I smile bigger when I dance in a grocery store. My dog and I have more educated conversations (just kidding, he isn’t educated). I’m not terrified if someone judges me for being raped, for going to jail, for having a GED or for being a freakin WEIRDO. But if sharing myself with people helps even just one person take the leap into living authentically, then awesome. I want to help people, to help this world become a better place, because you deserve more than surface Facebook updates and “what’s up” texts.
I know I’m not special. My story is far from original. So if I can do it without repercussion, you can too. You won’t lose as much as you think. Just try it this week. Write one blog about you, for you. Don’t think about who will read it, because remember, that isn’t the point.
By the way, I ride every Wednesday with a smile now. I have no fear of falling anymore.
