Sonya

In my line of work, I occasionally get the opportunity to witness some rather remarkable things, and sometimes to travel to amazing places. Every once in a while, I even have the fortune to meet some truly extraordinary people. I recently went to San Francisco to begin a documentary on the Pacific School of Massage & Healing Arts founder, Fred Mitouer, and while his work is groundbreaking and fascinating, it was one of his patients who has left an indelible mark on my heart.

Sonya was raised in an affluent San Diego family whose house was featured in two issues of Architectural Digest. Her mother wore designer clothes. Her father: the President of a Savings and Loan firm and a member of the Democratic Steering Committee. But beneath that veneer of normalcy, Sonya spent the first seventeen years of her life as the victim of her parent's ritual satanic cult.

Sonya's father began raping her as early as the age of three. Her mother would repeatedly strangle her to the brink of death in a backyard shed. Her older sister sodomized her with any number of miscellaneous objects. And the entire family would torture Sonya in their basement dungeon. The result is a woman with two coexisting personalities living in her mind: that of her 64 year old self, and that of Little Sonya, the three-year-old fragmentation of her abuse, and the bearer of the memories of her torture.

Big Sonya is a beautiful woman in all respects - warm, thoughtful, articulate, and courageous. She holds a Masters Degree in Psychology from Cal State Northridge. She managed an architectural design firm, was Director of Food Services at a senior health program, and her recipes have been published in Better Homes and Gardens, Good Housekeeping, and Bon Apetite. Speaking to Big Sonya is like speaking to any well-spoken, intelligent, and successful woman, with the added bonus of a splendidly goofy sense of humor.

Little Sonya is described as a three year old, but her demeanor, colloquialisms and vocabulary are a magical blend of ages that often feel adolescent. She is vivacious and adorably brazen, with the marvelous curiosity and keen sense of observation that one would expect of a young girl.

But unlike traditional multiple personalities in which each identity is compartmentalized, Big Sonya and Little Sonya are simultaneously present at all times. They share thoughts. They interrupt each other. They talk to each other within her mind, and sometimes one of them will speak for the other. And it all happens so seamlessly and naturally, that one's own demeanor when speaking to her changes on the fly to accommodate the age of whichever identity is present.

Yet while all of this fascinates, it is not what makes Sonya so special. It's her courage, energy, selflessness and compassion not only with everything that has happened, but despite what's about to happen as well. After decades of psychotherapy and the more recent and highly successful transformational work of Fred Mitouer, Sonya was finally able to exorcize the horrors of her youth. She was on the verge of moving elsewhere, starting afresh, and embracing the opportunities of a new Future. That is until August of 2009 when doctors diagnosed her with fourth stage ovarian cancer and informed her that she would soon die.

Sonya could curl up in a ball of angry, frustrated depression over the cruel irony that Life has slapped her with. Yet despite her recent, second dosage of chemotherapy, she managed to muscle through the rigors of our shoot with warmth and vivacity. Always positive. Ever thoughtful and compassionate. On the second day of our shoot, she presented to me a bagged lunch at six o'clock in the morning: a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a power bar, and a bottle of water. There are times in which I lack the motivation to mail an envelope, and there was Sonya, having made me a lunch before the sun had even risen.

I only first began corresponding with the Sonyas via email two weeks ago. I've only been in her presence for one and a half days. But her inspiration will live with me always, and I'll miss her dearly when she's gone. It is cruel and unfair that she could have endured so much, come so far, and to have achieved such a peace of mind that would have allowed her to start things over, only to be told that Death would soon rob her of that opportunity. Of course, maybe that's the bittersweet saving grace in the otherwise crappy timing, that at least she was able to exorcise the demons of her past and discover such an inner peace. And as Sonya puts it: that may be the best Fuck You to her family of tormentors.