NO HOLDING BACK

Marylyn Tan, author of the award-winning poetry volume, Gaze Back, and the first female winner of the Singapore Literature Prize (Poetry) in 2020, muses about pleasure and pain in the healing process.

When I was first diagnosed with scoliosis, the image was seared into my retinas. The stark, back-lit X-ray transparencies in my chiropractor’s office showed my spine dramatically double-curved, the obvious cause of the pain that shot through my pelvis and back every time I tried to stand or walk.

A week ago, I had attended a somatic therapy session, where my therapist, a mild-mannered woman who spoke with quiet conviction, said I might feel some pain in my body over the next few days as psychological conflicts in my life resurfaced.

I imagined a pain that came and went – and that was easily dismissed – but the discomfort in my lower back began as a dull throb (almost a muscle sprain), which then flared exponentially into agony. I could not sleep because of it, lying flat on the floor at 2am in an attempt to soothe what I still thought was a strained muscle.

I ended up at the chiropractor’s, something everyone warned me about. Did I really want to entrust my healing to a practice originating with a message from a ghost?

When I told a dear friend that I had scoliosis, her immediate response was, “Because you’re always bending over backwards for other people?”

I said, “Probably” – a non-response, because as much as I had ignored my own unhappiness over the past few years, I thought pretending that this development was inconsequential would make it pass from me.