Redemption for Persecutors - My Story - Harper

This is going to be a painful write/read. I am a past persecutor- one of the first in the Astra system and one of the most toxic. I had permeated parts of Wesley’s and the Astra System’s life in ways I know I cannot heal- I have since seen redemption and rectified many of my actions and have helped later persecutors and their stories/lives.

I will admit, I have done and threatened many terrible things, I even threatened things I knew I had no power to do, but I did anything I could to get control of the body and control Wesley’s life because I was angry.

Wesley at this time was in a bout of denial about the system and our plural-ness. We had essentially been cut off from the front and from seeing into the world that we had a right to be a part of- in whatever small way that was. In the headspace I was pushed back into the basement, a place that I can only speak nightmares of, with no light besides one dingy bulb, no proper bed, no way out, and no entertainment- so I entertained myself in other ways...

By toying with and hurting Wesley. I took the body’s memories and fears and turned them onto Wesley and the other headmates in torturous ways. As a cry for help. And as a way to cope with my anger. I never did physical damage to the body of any of the headmates because… I had no power to. But that didn’t mean I didn’t threaten it.

I went by a different name then, one that had been pushed onto me by Wesley in order to give voice to the mental turmoil I was giving him, but he never listened to me- none of the headmates did. But I was fixated on him and all the time he got to have out and fronting and his opinions heard and listened to. While I lived in the recesses of the headspace- purposefully erased and forgotten.

I don’t bring up these emotions to make anyone feel bad, or to bring hurt again to the system, but for others to know, for persecutors to know- it might not be okay now, it might not be okay later but you and only you can choose to heal.

About a year after my “arrival”, I guess (since my origins are unknown and the pain that came with me was unmeasurable), I had a really bad course of actions that I took once I was in front. I had fought my way up to front- gripping to every painful memory and thoughts that the system had in order to climb my way out. And then, I locked the body in the bathroom of our college apartment. The roommates were concerned and knew about my need to flare up and make things difficult. So it was no immediate surprise to them what I did.

I didn’t speak for what felt like hours. Just sitting in a dark bathroom with the roommates on the other side pleading and talking and waiting for me to lose control of the front and let Wesley back into their lives. But I wouldn’t go down without a good fight.

After the first chunk of time of my silence a post-it note was slipped under the door with a pencil. I didn’t even look at the note, I ripped it up and shoved it back out. Soon a variety of different things came under the door on these notes, drawings, jokes, questions, introductions. Eventually I grew tired and stopped responding or tearing them up.

I don’t remember how what happened next had happened, but it did and I am grateful for it.

I opened the door, and a friend of Wesley asked if there was room to sit with me. I huffed and gestured across from me. In this tiny bathroom this friend sat across from me, made introductions, and waited quietly for me to make introductions.

I introduced myself, I’m Harper.

The friend then said something like, I’m sorry you are hurting, it’s not fair, I’m here to listen.

After more silence and an exchange of quiet glances the next question hit me with an unanticipated wave of emotions, the friend said, Do you want a hug?

I shrugged, leaned in, felt the warmth of touch I had never felt- and cried. I cried for a long time.

And that was the start of my redemption.

I soon apologized to everyone inside and outside of the system, and begrudgingly to Wesley. After some further dialogue between myself, Wesley and some of the roommates I was able to front and explore and feel things. Though the way I worded it makes it sound easy, it was not, it was grueling, argumentative and hurtful. But I came out more open and am now a fierce guardian of the Astra System.

This is not a how-to guide, or a lesson for persecutors of other systems but more so a tale of hope. That things can get better, you can heal. I see you. I do. I may not know your origin, or the pain and memories you hold or the anger and grief that rages in you but know that I got through that phase and I am still me.

I believe in you.