How to Be “Unmessable With”

He looked at me, fear in his eyes, knees shaking.

“You’re a witch!” he shouted at me in return. He ran to his house across the street, all the while looking back to see if I (all 95 pounds of me) was following him.?

He got on his porch, went inside and quickly shut the door behind him.?

I saw him through the window, looking out, still making sure I wasn’t coming after him.?

I sat there scratching my head. He was the one everyone was afraid of. Why was he afraid of me?

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If you remember my last newsletter, you’ll recall the dean at the University of New Mexico (and my father) told me I had to get a master's degree at another school in order to teach at the university. If I was going to do that, I needed financial aid and a teaching position.?

Well, I got a scholarship and a teaching position at Boston University.?

I moved there and found a place to live: a big house on a hill with a bunch of roommates. My room was in the attic. I rode my bike to and from school every day. It wasn’t a great neighborhood.?

And I’d see a local gangster most days, look him in the eye and say “hello.” I saw him and some of his gang take a woman’s purse once. I also saw them knock a guy off a bike and take his backpack.

But he never bothered me.?

Every time I saw him, I looked him in the eye, smiled and said “hello.” Looking back, he wasn’t used to that. Most people looked at him as if they were afraid of him.?

I looked at him, and I wasn’t afraid. As I think it through, he left me alone because he thought I had something over him.?

I didn’t, really. I just wasn’t afraid.?

My troubles were more at school.?

Then there was my composition professor. I put a completed composition on his desk. He looked at me, shook his head and tossed the composition to the side. “Women can’t compose,” he said, and he looked away.?

Not only that, as a teaching assistant, my students hardly engaged. They never asked questions, and the number of students kept dwindling until I only had 5 students left. Things were not looking good.?

I shared an office with a tenured woman professor. I told her these stories, and more.?

She looked at me and said, “You’re never going to make it here.”

I couldn’t understand why nothing about my experience was jiving.?

The last straw was when my harpsichord teacher tried to put his hand up my dress. That had never happened to me before. I smacked him and left the room, never to return.?

That day I went straight up to the local gangster that never messed with me and I yelled at him “Why me?! Why don’t you mess with me?”

I just couldn’t understand why I never seemed to matter to anyone. Not my students. Not the fellow women professors. Not Mr “happy hands”. Not the gangsters.?

The next day, after yelling at the gangster, I packed my stuff. Me and the dog went back to New Mexico.

My music career was over.?

I learned something valuable though. I wasn’t meant to be there. The music was not flowing. The experience was tumultuous. It just wasn’t “meant to be”.?

When I got home, my family asked me what I was going to do. I didn’t know; I didn’t have a clue.

A few weeks later, I packed my things and went to Santa Cruz, CA.

That decision forged my path for the better. I don’t regret leaving. It led me to exactly where I was meant to go.?

When the doors of the universe are not opening for you, you cannot be in your flow. Being in flow, the zone, is when you are at your peak performance and everything lines up.??

About Melinda Fouts:?

Melinda coaches a range of clients-those in transition, those needing a thought partner and those needing more tools in their toolbox.?

She also coaches people who experience self-doubt. She gets them to acknowledge their feelings of self- doubt and overcome them so they can live the life meant for them.?

She uses her experience as a psychotherapist to help clients identify their blind spots and improve their hidden traits.?

Melinda is in Carbondale, Colorado. You can reach her at 970-274-3130 or via email. You can get on her calendar here.