#tellall

I’m writing this from a place of unfulfillment, yet hope. Dissatisfaction, but a strange sense of contentment that I feel this way. Feeling unfulfilled and knowing the reason why, seems a much better use of my time than feeling a way with no explanation. Because I can take steps towards slight change. The knowingness of how I’m feeling allows me to walk on a specific path with some kind of direction. The lights are yet to be turned on, but at least I am looking for a switch. The door may be locked but I do hold the key. Almost. 

I am feeling this inner frustration because I know I’m not fulfilling my purpose. I know it so much that my soul may as well have wrote me a letter telling me that I’m taking steps down the wrong road. I can feel it in my heart, in my mind, in my body as a whole. Oprah once said that it starts as a niggle and failing to listen to the niggle, it will indeed transform into a yell, which will turn into a brick to the head. I’m not sure if I’m at the yelling point or the bricking point or somewhere in between, but the voice is there and I’m more than willing to listen. 

I know that in this World I am meant for more. I know I have a voice that needs to be heard; I know that people need me. People I don’t even know exist yet, people whom don’t know me, they need me and for some reason I know it. I just know that people are praying for a guide like me. My niggle tells me so. 

I’m divided between two notions, two ideas; is this my exact path? Was I always meant to end up here, writing these words, looking into every corner of the World trying to find where I fit? Knowing that I’m meant to be a light worker, but dimming day by day. Or have I veered so far off my path by wrong choices and too many moments of unconscious slumber, that I’m simply delaying what already should have become? But everything is happening as it should, I remind myself. 

Many codes in this life I have cracked. The wonderful, love-filled and conscious relationship with my soul mate; the friends that fulfil me in all areas; the well paying job and the financial stability/freedom that I get from that; the beautiful 23rd floor home with views of the sky line and a front row seat to the sun going to sleep every night. I’ve travelled the World, I’ve travelled my own internal World’s. I’ve experienced, i’ve cherished, I’ve lived. Yet still, this feeling is something that ticking things off of my fun list will not shake. It’s embedded in me, and it’s not going anywhere. Not until I listen to my niggle, not until I follow my soul. Not until I find my purpose. 

So this is day one of finding my purpose. I don’t know where this journey will take me, who I will meet along the way, what I’ll end up doing to fulfil myself and those around me. But I do know that things are going to be meaningful. Because I’m trying. And all we can do really is try. 

Every day I will get 1% better. Every day I will take a small step in a simple direction. I don’t know what tomorrow’s step is going to be. God, I barely know todays. But all I can do it take that one small stroke in the big sea. And this is my first step. To write and acknowledge that part of my heart feels empty because I know I’m not doing what I should be doing on this planet. I’m here to raise the consciousness of the World, I’m here to help other people understand who they are. That’s all I know. I don’t know how and I don’t know who, but I do know I’m a healer. And maybe if I find my purpose, I can help others find theirs too. 

(*I retain all rights to my story, story details, biographical information, etc*)

The earliest incident I can remember was when I was in elementary school. I was walking home and had to pass one of my father's colleague’s houses before turning down the street toward my own. Steve was there, on the porch. He called to me, said he had something he wanted me to return to my father . Though I got a really sick feeling in my stomach, I went over (he was an adult after all. And a friend of my Dads).

I walked up the steps of Steve's house and waited in the foyer for him to fetch whatever it was. But that didn't happen. Steve became awkward with me, asking irrelevant questions about school and my friends. Then he sat on the steps leading to the second floor and asked me to come over toward him. He started rubbing on my arms, talking and looking at me in a way I will never forget. I quickly excused myself and walked out the front door for home without hearing a response from him. He must have known what he was doing was wrong. Embarrassed and confused, I said nothing to my family.

Steve remained a friend and business colleague of my father's. When I came home to visit from college, Steve had partnered with my father and the two of them were working out of our house together. I felt disgusted every time I saw his face or heard his voice, going out of my way to avoid him. And that was every day. My visits home became fewer and further apart. I never found the nerve to tell my father what his colleague had done because I suppose nothing really happened. But also, because I thought my father may not believe me and that would break my heart worse than the secret I was keeping. I mentioned it to my mother later in life and she was not surprised. She had a sick feeling about Steve as well which only made me angrier, knowing that she was trapped in her own home for years with this potential predator.

There was also the time In middle school when my sisters invited some of their male friends into the house while my parents were out. I hid in my room, but one of those boys came upstairs, entered, and molested me in my own bed. I wonder: HOW did he get that idea? Where did he learn the behavior?

It seems every woman I meet has endured countless unwanted, unwarranted sexual encounters by men, resulting in physical, emotional and/ or psychological rape. Sadly, our learned defense mechanism has been (globally) to laugh things off and try- often unsuccessfully- not to anger the men who victimize us.  FEAR is how this has persisted. And it is learned and tolerated from a very young age. The “harmless” stuff happens so often, it becomes ambient activity. I’ve heard a lifetime of comments about my body and what various men wanted to do to it. I can recount the times a man has gone to shake my hand, then pulled me into his lap once he had a grasp and laughed, grabbing my ass. I’ve seen men switch their seats at restaurants to sit facing me when I’m alone and steal glimpses of my legs under the table, even touch themselves while doing so. And I cringe whenever a man feels entitled to touch any part of me without my consent, or corner me and try to pressure me into sex, then call me “difficult”-(among other things)- when I say “no”. None of this is “harmless”. All of it has shaped how I communicate with the opposite sex, my relationships in general, and (of course) my work and ability to work.

In my 20’s, my boss of several years positioned himself directly in front of the bathroom door one day while I was using the facilities in his home office. I exited to find him with pants off, penis in hand, masturbating. He threatened me with legal action and attempted to interfere in my career even after I filed a retraining order, packed a U-Haul and rolled out in the middle of the night without a forwarding address.

Upon graduating from college (Eastman), I was asked to perform in Cleveland at world famous Severance Hall by the conductor of a youth orchestra I played with in high school. After the performance, he tried to get me into his hotel room. How long had he been wanting to do that? Had he succeeded with someone else before?

I am now a professional actress and stunt woman, something I accomplished from complete obscurity and with extraordinary effort. Something I’ve accomplished despite saying “NO”, repeatedly. Hollywood is currently under a microscope. The incidents everyone is hearing about are not limited to huge career advances (ie hotel meetings with studio execs, or weekend pool parties with “decision-makers”). Up until now (in this industry) harassment, predatory behavior, pedophilia, addictions, etc… are not only frequent, they have been facilitated, tolerated and even leveraged as bargaining tools to maintain employment and further careers by some in all/any departments. It’s already a tough industry to “break into”, some seek the shortcuts. Having lost a few colleagues to “Yes”, I wonder if any of them ever knew what they were really getting into). 

In my 13+ years working in “The Biz”, I’ve experienced a heavy dose of  #MeToo:

*Endless unwarranted and unwanted texts, emails and calls from men  being inappropriate,

*2am unsolicited dick pics from a director I’d just auditioned for,

*A director who got my number from production so he could call and ask me to join him in his hotel room

*An actor who dropped his pants in front of me after the crew moved on to another setup (he was pissed when I walked passed him- eyes up- and left),

*A producer who said “Lisa, it’s a good idea to know me. I can help your career” then refused to pay me when I denied his advances,

*A few stunt coordinators who make sleazy comments to me or ask for bikini pics for their own personal “files”, one touched me inappropriately at work,

*A name actor who cornered me off set and pressed his bloated body against mine while an AD and several crew members walked by, eyes down,  

The list goes on…

 To date, there are a handful of men in my industry who call me “difficult” and make it deliberately challenging for me to work because I wont have sexual intercourse with them. Have I called them out by name? No. Why? Fear. This industry is challenging enough. Also, I had feared nothing would change. But now, I pray, it CAN and it IS.

The #MeToo and #TimesUp movements are far overdue. THANK YOU to the woman who initiated this epic movement for some very necessary change. We must stand up for ourselves!  Everything girls see and hear on TV and in Ads from a very young age teaches us that we must seek validation through the love, acceptance or adoration of men via physical means. It also tells us that this is empowering. THESE ARE LIES.

Women have been manipulated and divided against each other long enough. Change will be uncomfortable for everyone, it will take adjusting and accountability by all. But it is my sincere wish (as it is now by so many outspoken women) that us ladies start holding each other to a higher potential and learn self acceptance and self validation. In that spirit, Ladies, lead with what you want the world to value about yourselves. Teach others how to treat you. And accept that you can say “NO”, and STILL THRIVE!

Wishing everyone understanding and healing.

Blessings,  Lisa

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I remember watching a movie that triggered so much pain and confusion. I got in the shower and cried for so long. When I got out of the shower my sister asked me what was wrong. I start to tell her about my trauma. She responds with "Me too" It was Dad it was our uncle and one of our cousins that hurt her too. I immediately turned my pain for myself off and focused on hers.

Hearing all of this made me so distant from my father and that hurt bc he was my best friend my safety and I trusted him with everything me as he raised me with nothing but love. I could never imagine him hurting anyone let alone any of his children. I battled with it for so long and still do.

I stayed away for so long and one day he was making his way around to visit all of his children but he didn't make it to my house that day.

Then he got sick..and he just... died. My father was gone. My best friend my safety. the only one in my family that I feel understood me as a whole.

I immediately hated my sister. I wanted her to be a liar. I wanted what she told me he did to be false but who am I to say that she didn't experience this side of him. I deal with this pain today bc im the only one who can feel it.

Why did you have to tell me and no one else why did you have to ruin the one love that a girl is supposed to have with her father.