The Campfire Storytelling Podcast

"How are we shaped by things left unsaid" featuring Courtney King

June 19, 2019 KDHX Season 23
The Campfire Storytelling Podcast
"How are we shaped by things left unsaid" featuring Courtney King
Show Notes Transcript

This episode features Courtney King, one of Campfire’s Fellows. Courtney King as she provides her answer to the Season 23 question, "How are we shaped by things left unsaid?". A Fellow’s Campfire can best be described as TED without the data, The Moth but interactive, and a sermon but without the religion. You can learn more about Courtney King on the Campfire website, https://cmpfr.com/events/courtney-king/.

The Campfire Fellows go through rigorous training and coaching provided by Campfire Faculty so they can share their wisdom through story for you. Our Fellows are the people next to you at stoplights or walking by on the street. These Fellows apply or are nominated by people like you, who know interesting and introspective people with some wisdom to share. The Fellows go through a unique process with our team to discover a wealth of wisdom inside themselves and then are trained on how to share the origin stories of their wisdom. 

This episode was originally performed in March 2019, produced by Andrew Warshauer, and recorded live at The Stage at KDHX.

Steven Harowitz:   0:12
Hello, Internet. I'm Steven Harowitz, Executive Director of Campfire, and you are listening to Campfire at Home. It's our way of bringing the live experience to you, whether that be listening and reflecting by yourself or experiencing it with friends. Each Campfire invites listeners into life and how we live it. Before we get too deep into Campfire at Home, I want to share a few opportunities for you to get involved beyond our live show. We offer classes and workshops on public speaking, story construction and group facilitation to answer the big questions in your life or at work. If you or your organization are interested, you can visit cmpfr.com. That's c m p f r dot com. Each Campfire Season poses a life question that's explored by our Campfire Fellows together with our audiences. Let's go to The Stage at KDHX to listen to Courtney's answer to the Season question, how are we shaped by things left unsaid?  

Courtney King:   1:08
Hi. Welcome to my Campfire. Thank you all for coming out tonight. I'm Courtney, like Steven said, and tonight we're gonna be talking about the Season's question, how are we shaped by things left unsaid? This question with all of its complexity is a pretty big and important question because we've all been shaped by things left unsaid in our lives, whether good or bad. Now, if you were here for last month's Campfire, you've heard for Emma Young, who was my co-Fellow, that sometimes things left unsaid can resemble red flags. Pretty deep, right? Well, if you weren't here, I highly subscribe. I highly subscribe. I highly recommend that you subscribe to Campfire on iTunes so that you can hear podcasts and then later hear mine, if you would like to hear it again. So again, welcome. I'm going to jump in and pretty much share with you guys some things about me that have been left unsaid in my life that have shaped me over time. And I'm going to start with my earliest memory of unsaid things in my life, which is my parents' divorce. So I was three years old when my parents got a divorce. I was too young to really understand what was going on, but I was old enough to be impacted. Where I watched, before my eyes, everything changed about my family. Can you recall a time where you knew something big was happening in your life, but you weren't quite old enough to understand it? Well, for those of you that do, that's great. You get it. But for those of you that don't, let me describe it just a little bit more for you because you're probably wondering, how does a three-year-old know something is happening? Well, let's just say I was a smart three-year-old. My family split without words, at least words that my sister and I could understand at the time. My sister was 11 years old and nothing was really explained to us. We were just expected to go along with the change around the unsaid. Now I know you're probably thinking, "Well, what were they supposed to tell you? You're three and you're 11?" Well, I'm thinking something like, "Sometimes adults just don't get along and they just, they just need this amount of space away from each other so that they can remain good human beings and that they still love you." But like I said, nothing was really explained to us. It was just expected for us to go along with the change around the unsaid, and that change eventually led to my mother, sister, and I moving into a small two bedroom apartment and my father into his own. My father no longer lived with us, which was a big change for me, because I was and I still am a daddy's little girl. But we left behind this really big home where me and my sister had our own rooms and there was a huge backyard and a huge basement. And when, within this home, though, it's foggy for me to think back to it. I do remember this home, and I remember in the living room there's my mother singing and dancing to music. There's the kitchen where my sister is making Rice Krispie treats for her school bake sales. There is the bathroom where I got my first burn from a hot curling iron. I still have the scar here on my right forearm. There's my room where my sister is combing and braiding my hair and me crying because it hurts. And then there's the basement. For whatever reason, me and my sister would watch the TV show The Smurfs in the basement, but those are sometimes hard memories to pull from, where there was moments of joy and sadness, well joy and care but sometimes sadness around what was left unsaid. And without any family pictures, I can't really hold on to those memories. I don't have any family pictures of myself and my sister and my mom and my father together. Yes, there's pictures of me and my sister when we were little, but to my knowledge, there's no family pictures of us together. So what came with the move was pick-ups and drop-offs between my mother and my father of my sister and I, and as you guys can probably imagine, it was pretty colorful. But during these pick-ups and drop-offs, I knew for sure that this was the time that I would see my dad, and I was so excited and filled with joy, knowing that I was going to see my dad again. But then, over time, these pick-ups and drop-offs became harder and harder, and I remember holding on to my dad and crying sometimes and squeezing him tight because I didn't want to let go. So one day when my father dropped me off at my mother's, I somehow somehow mustered up the words, "How come Daddy no longer lives with us?". Now here I am, just a little person asking a big ass question for an answer that's being left unsaid, trying to make sense of now my new world. My mother looked at me and she cried and told me to ask my father. Now, I don't really remember if I asked my father again. I was just a little girl trying to make sense of what was happening. But I do remember that things changed pretty quickly. I remember that my family was growing more apart. Excuse me, was growing more apart, and with that, my family or my parents, I should say, started dating others. So at first I thought they were going to get back together. But eventually they started dating other people. And then I remember at this time my sister went away to college. So again, this is over time. And then my dad got full custody of me, and then my sister came back early from college, and then my dad remarried, and this time my family's splitting again. But this time my father and I moved in with my stepmother, my sister moved into the apartment, and my mother alone. So what I learned from this this particular story is that my family sometimes gets by by unsaid things. And because of that, I don't know my parents' love story. And neither does my sister, though she's a little bit older of me, older than me. I don't know my parents' love story, and I don't have a strong memory of them together. And whenever I've asked questions, I've been given little, pretty much little information. And because of that again, I really don't know their story. It's almost like they've never, like they were never married even though they were married for 17 years. So with that, I feel like because we don't know their stories, I feel like my sister and I haven't really had any guidance around relationships in general, where I think if my parents would have shared the good and bad, that could have helped me and my sister through some things, especially hard stuff and things left unsaid. So how are we shaped by things left unsaid? Well, that question is a pretty big question, and it's a hard question. I spent days, weeks, months, to be honest, thinking about what short story to share tonight that wouldn't cut so deep and give so much of me away to an audience that's a mix of friends and colleagues and strangers, that wouldn't give so much of me away, of all that I carry with me around the unsaid, because typically the unsaid things in our lives are pretty sad and sometimes hurtful. So now I'm curious. I would love to hear from you all. What do you think it means to be shaped by something, given the story that I just shared with you all about my family? So in your yellow envelopes, you should find a shape. And that shape may be a heart, a circle, a four square. And on that shape, I would like for you all to write down what does it mean to be shaped by something?

Courtney King:   11:14
So what I wrote, and I just want, wrote one word. I wasn't like you guys was, all fancy. I wrote "to be molded," so I didn't go into much details. But from that experience around my parents' divorce, my sister was molded into this caretaker. So she was now responsible for me. So she made sure that my hair was done and she picked me up and dropped me off at places, and she just overall took care of me. She was mommy number two in a lot of ways, and for me, how I was molded, I became somehow this family glue that tries to keep the family together though I failed all the time, um, and showing up even when I don't want to at times. Thank you all for sharing, really appreciate that. So again, how are we shaped by things left unsaid? Even with my parents' story around a divorce, around unsaid things in my life, it took a long time to get there. And so, with the Campfire process, Steven gave me a task, which was to list all the stories within me as it relates to the Season's question, and a few themes emerged, and those themes were heartbreak, loss, hurt, disappointment. All these things that I felt in response to things being left unsaid in my life, pretty depressing, right? Things that are pretty heavy and hard to carry sometimes. Things that we really don't talk about out loud. Usually we just share it with one or two friends that we tell all our business to. We don't really broadcast these things, such as heart and hurt and disappointment. We use, usually just broadcast our wins, like the A on the exam that we got or the new job or raise or the pregnancy or a new engagement, but we don't usually broadcast when we're losing. So I would like to share another story with you all because apparently I've been winning at heartbreak. I know that sounds really sad. Or losing at love. However you want to look at it. And I would like to share with you all a story about, let's call him Nomad to protect his privacy, which is a story of love that I carry with me. Wow, you guys are all looking at me. This is awkward, but before I jump into that, let me give you some quick context. Sex and relationships was just a unsaid thing growing up. I wasn't allowed to date until I was 18. Apparently, if I dated, I would get pregnant and my life would be over. Can you guys relate? For the women, especially, in the room, were your parents just as dramatic as mine? So again. I don't have just the crazy parents. That's nice to know. But a good thing is that during high school I worked at a clinic. I worked that Huckleberry's Cole Street Clinic in San Francisco, in the Haight Ashbury district. And at that clinic, I learned all the ways to protect myself from unintended pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases, like condoms and birth control and masturbation. Yes, I just said masturbation out loud, or not having sex at all, because to that too was an option. So when that time came, because eventually it did, I had all the facts, and, no,  my life was not over. But what I've learned from that was that relationships in general was just a taboo topic. Growing up, my parents really didn't talk to us about what it means to have a healthy relationship, what to look for in a partner, what to look for in a marriage. In fact, we never talked about dating and about marriage. We were always told to be independent, to never depend on a man, not even for love. So before I continue, I just want you to know that I blame my parents for how jacked up I am. When it comes to love and relationships, it's all their fault. Just kidding. Well, maybe it is. So I had no idea that swiping right would lead to a whole new world outside of my day-to-day here in St. Louis until I met Nomad via Tinder in summer of 2016. Now, for those of you who have never used Tinder, Tinder is an online dating app where you swipe right to match to me someone special. No, it's not a hookup app. I hate when people say that it's just a hookup app, but I kind of understand, because there are some questionable profiles on there, like dudes standing in the mirror, half-naked, posing, trying to show you what they're working with or what they think they're working with. Or dudes with dogs licking their faces. It's one of the two, but it's not a hookup app. However, if that's how you use it, no judgment here, I promise. Well, what attracted me to the Nomad was, first, he had clothes on, so that was cool, but that he was a traveler. He was the complete opposite of my ex. He was into traveling, into experiencing new things and creating new memories. And we connected not because I was exactly like him, but his lifestyle spoke to my soul. I love to travel too, and that's something that's a hidden part of me. Um, just when we met, I had graduated from graduate school, graduated from graduate school. That sounds funny. I graduated from graduate school, and I just started a job in research, and I was still figuring out my next steps. But most importantly, I was look looking forward to the freedom that came with graduation because I was done with school like done done. Like three years later, two masters, I was done. For those that keep saying, "What about the PhD program?", back off cause I'm done. But, yes, I was really excited about this time because with graduation meant more time for love, this thing that I never really focused on, because I was always taught to be independent and to get my education. I wasn't really taught to make time for love. That was a really big thing for me. So we message back and for forth getting to know one another and just within I guess weeks, we were on to our first date. Now, during this time, of course, I have nothing to wear. I'm changing four or five times nervously because it's my first date in a really long time, and I remember that I was wearing a floral black printed dress that  came down to my knees or below my knees. And I changed from that to ripped black jeans and a black halter top because I didn't want to look like a church girl. But I just wanted to be comfortable and again, it was my first date in a really long time. So picking up pizza from a new spot off of Delmar, I call him to let him know I'm running a little behind. We were gonna meet up at Forest Park for a movie that started at 7:00, and when he picked up, he was relieved to hear my voice because he thought I stood him up. He was already at Forest Park with the blanket laid out and a bottle of wine waiting, and just then as we're talking on the phone and I'm picking up the pizza, it starts raining. No, it fucking starts pouring because you guys know how St. Louis weather can be. It's bipolar as fuck and you just never know. The skies are clear and sunny, but then within minutes or hours or so it's stormy. So feeling terrible, I rush, getting into traffic, slamming on the brakes, which sent the pizza flying onto the floor but luckily still in the box. And when I arrived, he was soaked, but tall, chocolate, and cute as ever. It's so weird to say your inner thoughts out loud. I just want you guys to know that. But tall, chocolate and cute as ever, he looked just like the pictures on Tinder. So no, I didn't get catfished. Now, if there's anyone in here that does not know what catfish means, please ask your neighbor. I'm pretty sure someone near knows. So we continued our date. He got into my car, and as it's pouring, we start sharing about our travels and about our time here in St. Louis. He's from St. Louis. I'm from Cali, and we just vibed. And then the rain stopped. And so we continued on to watch the movie as planned. It was Forrest Gump, his favorite, my first time. And as awkward as I was feeling, I made it through the date and promised to make up for the sloppy pizza and for being late. What followed was a few more dates, and then he moved to Ghana, like most Nomads do. They pick up and they just leave. But this time it was for a work opportunity. So for a year I woke up to and I went to sleep to Ghana, this amazing, beautiful country filled with all its richness and culture. And these were through videos and photos of this place. And I would like to invite you all just to experience that time with me of hearing the sounds that I was waking up to and going to sleep to. Now these sounds are not from his videos to protect his privacy, but these are sounds that I found that are very similar to what I was experiencing at that time. So if you would like to join me, I ask that you just close your eyes and listen. I'll let you know when to open your eyes again. [Rooster crowing. Children singing and playing. People conversing while a baby cries. Men's voices talking low.] may open your eyes again. Thank you for joining me. So the roosters were the roosters constantly interrupting our morning videos, the black joy of children singing and dancing and laughing and having fun. The city life and the daily commutes between Kumasi and Atebubu and so much more. Our videos were pretty consistent, even though sometimes he did not have power or phone service or internet. We talked to just about every day about everything from family to work, to our interests and goals to just moral support and gift giving. He was a great gift giver. It was something I never knew that I needed at the time. And now that I think back to it, I think it was love. It was just something about that connection and building with someone, even though he was thousands and thousands of miles away. He gave me a world outside of my own, which was sunsets, children playing, the Atlantic Ocean and more. But things quickly changed with the Nomad, and I wish I had all the time to give you all the details. But let me just quickly say, this Nomad left so many things unsaid, so I'd like to pause and have us reflect on something in your yellow envelopes. There is a note card or index card, I should say. On that index card, I would like you to write down a name of a person who has left something unsaid in your life that has had a negative impact on you.  

Courtney King:   26:37
Now what I want you to do is fold that name and put it in your pocket. We will come back to it at a later time. So I knew something had to change when he came to St. Louis the second time. But this time he didn't reach out like he said he would to make up for the last time and how he left. The last time he left, he left without saying goodbye. He called me from the D. C. airport and told me he had a last minute flight for work back to Africa. I learned later that he spent his last days with her. That summer was confusing. We met up in Central West End for ice cream and for drinks. It was our first time seeing each other in person in a year, and I needed to confirm that it wasn't just virtual vibes that I had for this person. That the vibes were real. And when we met up, we had chemistry and it felt good and we had fun and we caught up and we laughed. And then on the way home, he kissed me at every red light. I admit it was fucking cute. But only to leave the very next day on a trip with her. What followed was a series of hard conversations, me trying to fill in the blanks around the unsaid, and him constantly giving me half-truths, like "I am here to spend time with you. I do care about you. No, I'm not playing a game. I'm sorry." Eventually, too, "I'm in a selfish place right now. I can't meet your needs." And then, in reference to her, he played like she was just a friend. I'll do extra quotes, and he said that he just liked the attention, back to "I do love you. I do care about you. I'm sorry. I love you." Those messages were over months, even after he left. And these were times through videos and emails and messaging back to each other, where I was trying to figure out, like, who was I in his life. He was sharing things that showed that he cared and that he loved me. And I put quotes because sometimes I struggle with the words love and I love you but that he didn't want me. I guess what kept me around was that there was moments of joy and care that was sometimes through the sadness around the unsaid, except the unsaid wasn't so hidden. I had to pull away because at the time I was having some health issues. I was in and out of the hospital, and I needed to prioritize my health, and he realized that I wasn't responding to his messages. So he reached out and like we always did, we caught up and we talked and had a really good time again. Moments of joy and care though sometimes too sadness around the unsaid. And he shared that he was getting ready to go on a trip because that's what no most nomads do. They just pick up and go on trips, and I wished him safe travels like I normally do, even sent him a gift because it was Christmas time. And then days later, he posted pictures of him and of her. You guys see the pattern, right? So this time, when he came to St. Louis and didn't reach out when he said he was going to to make up for the last time for how he left, I was pissed off. But I was hurt and devastated, and I sent him a message pretty much saying first checking in but also just wishing him well because it was too confusing to be involved with someone where it felt like I cared more than than he did. The very next day he posted a picture of them together, as in, as in a couple. 365 days later, or I should really say two years, because it was really two years of us getting to know each other and sharing with one another everything about our lives. 500 plus messages, videos and emails. Again, that's probably underestimated as well. Endless gifts. He was a great gift giver and over a handful of good dates. Yes, we went out more than what I shared tonight and him constantly giving me half-truths and me constantly sharing my feelings of trying to figure out who am I in this space with you. The last time I physically saw him was in August of 2017. The last time we exchanged words was May of 2018. Two years or almost two years later, I'm just now getting the courage to date again. Now I know there's some of you in the audience that's probably thinking, "Hey, girl, it sounds like you just got played. It happens to the best of us." But if that is you, I hope that that's not the only thing that you take home with you tonight from my Campfire, because it was so much more than just getting played. So how are we shaped by things left unsaid? Well, if I think back to my parents' divorce, because of their divorce, I was raised in a particular way to be independent, to never depend on a man, not even for love. And though it wasn't my dad exactly saying those words, my dad too never talk to me about relationships. But now, when I think about the Nomad, I've been shaped in a whole completely different way, and so I'll get into it. During that time of trying to figure out who I was in this and afterwards, after we were no longer speaking, I went into a subtle yet deep depression. There was a lot going on at that time. There is now the loss of someone that I really loved and cared about. But then there was also my health. I ended up having major surgery and was off of work for about a month. In addition to that, once I came back from being on medical leave, I was promoted, which is yay,  whoo! But at the time that promotion felt so heavy because of the responsibilities that I was not ready for, because I was barely taking care of myself. I wasn't even sleeping, and when I would sleep I would dream of him kissing me goodbye and leaving with her hand-in-hand. I was waking up with a really intense bad anxiety because I was anticipating what I was used to, which was a call or a message or a video. Now a silent phone. It was really bad. I remember going into the office and wiping away tears just so I can enter into the space without questions and then sitting through my day through calls and meetings and managing of others and having to sit through that even though I was hurting inside. Again, wiping tears away from my face and sometimes escaping to the nearest restroom just so I could have some privacy. And what I learned from therapy was that I was actually experiencing grief. No one had died in my life, but there was something about the losses that I was experiencing all at the same time. Now again, the job promotion was a gain, and I was excited and happy to be acknowledged for all of my hard work. But again, the heaviness of that responsibility when I was barely taking care of myself, for feeling well enough, was pretty big. They got to the point where there were times where I just wanted to quit. There were times where I just didn't want to live anymore. And I know you're probably thinking, "Ain't no guy ever worth your life." But it wasn't just that. It was experiencing loss times three. It wasn't the first time that someone has left or forgotten me. It wasn't the first time where I didn't feel love. In fact, I felt those same things when I was a child, and he wasn't the first guy to disappoint me. If you guys knew my previous relationships, both that were five years each, you would understand why I gave him so much room. But even with that, I left some things unsaid. No, I didn't have a whole person hiding in the closet like he did. But during that time with him, I did leave some things unsaid, like the fact that I thought about a relationship with him but really didn't talk about it, because I learned once you start asking for things that guys leave. When you start wanting more, guys leave. Another thing that I left unsaid was that I loved him. I waited to the very end to even utter those words and in my surprise he said it in return. So I, too, left some things unsaid. Again, I didn't have a whole person hidden. I wasn't playing what I still consider a game. I wasn't trying to make a decision between him and someone else. I wasn't doing that and I know you're probably thinking, "He wasn't your boyfriend, Courtney. You guys were just friends." But even with that, you spend so much time building and connecting and sharing with someone for them to just treat you like you were nothing. I guess within all of that, I felt safe in the distance. There was safety in the distance between us. Because if we were closer, that meant there would be more conversations about who we were and what we were doing. And I guess there was safety in not having titles. Because if I'm not your girlfriend, then I can't get hurt. Right? Little did I know that you could. So remember the name that I asked for you all to write down. I would like you to take that piece of pocket, that piece of paper out of your pocket. And I would like you to look at the name again, and I want you to think about what it was that was left unsaid and how did it make you feel? Now i'd like you to flip over that piece of paper, the index card. And if you're ready to, I would like you to write the words "I forgive you." If you're ready to. No, I'm not asking you to reach out to this person or to even send this to that person. I'm just asking you if you're ready to to write down the words, "I forgive you," and I'll do the same. So just like you, I wrote down a name, actually wrote down two names. The first name that I wrote down, well, yes, I'll be plural, parents, and I wrote on the back, "I forgive you." So now that I, when I think about my parents and their divorce, I used to be frustrated that I didn't know their love story. But now I think I'm coming to terms with that sometimes things should be left unsaid. And though I don't know their love story and what all happened during the 17 years that they were together, I'm okay with that now. Because whatever it was, I'm pretty sure it was hard to walk away from 17 years. Now Nomad, Nomad is still a hard one. I forgive him, but I struggle in the forgiveness because I feel like he had so much room to be honest with me, and I don't know why he chose to leave things unsaid. The reason why I struggle with this is because sometimes I do miss him and that friendship. Sometimes I just miss Ghana, though I have access to Ghana and plan to go one day. And I sometimes think, "Was it because of him, or was it really the travel that opened me up and gave me so much life?". I don't know. But I do forgive him, even though I struggle with sometimes the forgiveness. Now for you all, for the name that you wrote down. No, I'm not telling you to reach out to this person or to send them the note, but honestly, this was just a time, a space for you to reflect on forgiveness and if there was any room for forgiveness for the person that left something unsaid in your life. You can do whatever you want with those pieces of papers. You can fold it up and put it back in your pocket. You can ball it up and throw it in the trash, or you can sit with it for some time and maybe write down what was the unsaid thing and how it made you feel. And then what you do next is completely up to you, because I feel that forgiveness takes time. My wish for you is that you do find the time and space to forgive but on your terms. Thank you for coming to my Campfire.

Steven Harowitz:   45:06
If you want, you can see the answers to this Season's question as written by audience members from each Campfire by visiting our Facebook page at facebook.com/campfirestl. That's c a m p f i r e s t l. A big thank you to the Campfire team, our photographers and videographers, and a special thanks to KDHX Community Media for being our partners on this journey. If you want to learn more about Campfire and the work we do, you can visit cmpfr.com. That c m p f r dot com. And if you like what you heard, please leave a review on iTunes or wherever you find your podcasts, because it really helps. Until next time.