Susan Rambles: The Car Wash Confirmation - Sure Sign of Healing
Read for free on Substack! Time to wash the car. Don’t be silly, I’m not going to do it myself. From time to time, I see people who seem to be lovingly washing their car in their driveway; meticulous attention with tender care. Secretly, I envy that a bit. I wish I cared about cars. I don’t. I cherish and talk to my vehicle as it excels in the things I do care about - a car that runs well and provides me with a trustworthy expectation that the motor will engage when I turn the key. (Yes, my sweet old car comes from the era of actual keys). I adore my trusty steed in that regard. But to wash it myself? Let’s get real. So, off to the car wash I go. I’m sitting in my car and the gear is in neutral. I am being pulled, sucked into the darken tunnel ahead as the gigantic brushes close in with an all encompassing intensity. Abruptly I have a flashback. It’s 15 years ago when my long buried childhood, ritualistic sexual abuse memories were surfacing with a vengeance. One of the many outcomes I...