The other day

Man was I going through it the other day. But I’m through it. And wow did I have to work it out. I’ve made so much progress with healing, but man that inner child likes to pop her head out every so often and say, “Hey big tough lady, don’t forget about me. I still don’t feel safe and loved, can you help me too?”

And I realize that’s the part that has always held me back. I never feel secure. I have never been abused by my parents. But, my mom was by her husbands (one physically one emotionally). In all honesty, I don’t know if either of them outright ever even did or said anything directly to me (like I don’t love you, your dumb or anything like that).I also don’t really remember either of them talking to me much at all. But, I DO remember how my mom was treated and maybe I just soaked it in. Maybe they said she was (ugly, dumb, boring etc) and I absorbed it. Everyone said I was so much like her I automatically applied it to myself. Or maybe their actions just caused me to come to my own conclusions about how they felt about me. I don’t really know. A lot of people with childhood trauma don’t remember much. What I DO know is that my father (s) are both alive and neither have chosen to be in my life and that even in my 40s it feels like a reflection on me rather than them. 2 parents who didn’t even send a card or make a phone call after Ian died-so even though it’s been years since I spoke to them, that still hurts like a bitch.

When I say I CANNOT feel like this anymore I mean it. And in order to push through that feeling that there is something inherently wrong with me that is unlovable, I had to go back to the basics and legit work it out. I made bread and kneaded the dough. I scrubbed the bottom floor of my house. I took my daughter for a bike ride. I had to let my brain move without thinking, so it could work without the interference of thought.

Eventually, it got clear. I moved out promptly at 18. I was filled with garbage for 18 years by others. I spent the next 18 years in a bit of an alcohol induced fuzz to block out my “defects “. At 36, I had my last drop of alcohol-it took 18 years to decide I was better than what the first 18 taught me. And I’m 5 years into building that little girl back up. (So, it might take me 13 more years to get that all repaired, and honestly that sounds about right 🤷🏻‍♀️) But, I’ve decided that every time I tell my oldest, “I’m impressed with how much effort and perseverance that project took”, instead of , “Billy bobs is better” or my toddler, “I know your mad about that, that’s not fun” instead of “suck it up you baby” and that when they’re really being a pain in the ass, and I hug and kiss them goodnight anyway , I erase a hurtful thing that was said to me. Every time I teach them instead of criticize, I can fall asleep with one less thought of, “you’re not enough “. Every time I listen to their needs and actually respond the way THEY need me too (not the way society tells me too) I teach them that there is ALWAYS someone to protect and love them, and if I can do it for them, I can do it for me too. Every time I do those things I replace that mean voice with my own.

And if it doesn’t take the pain away from me, I still imparted my love on them. That’ll work 🥰