Facing Fears

Facing fears is always a difficult thing to do.  When those fears involve facing truths about abuse as a child, it becomes a totally different kind of fear.  I had to do that twice recently.  First telling my adopted mom that her father had been inappropriate with me when I was 12/13 and telling my biological mom about all the abuse I had endured during my childhood in here absence.

These were two things that I was literally terrified of doing and I had put them off for years, basically my whole life.  At 34, it was really effecting me and I knew that I couldn’t hold these things in any longer, if I was ever going to be able to move on with my life.  I was so afraid of further rejections, being called a liar, or the truths not being taken as seriously as I needed them taken.  I went in to it honestly expecting the worst.

I needed to tell them, not because I wanted them to confront anyone or because I wanted them to feel bad or because I was blaming them.  I needed to tell them because I needed them to know my pain, so that they could better understand me as a person and as their daughter.  I needed my adopted mom to know that her parents were not perfect and not good to me.  I needed her to know the pain that I had carried around for so long.  I needed my birth mom to know because I needed her to understand the things that had happened to me because she abandoned me.  I didn’t want to make her feel bad but I need her to know that I had endured a lot, and it had an impact on me, and I am still dealing with it, but I am stronger because of it all.  I expected them to be mad and upset, maybe even refuse to accept any of it.

What I got…was relief.  Like some weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  Did it erase the pain?  No.  Did it undo the damage?  No.  But did it empower me? YES!! For the first time I felt empowered by telling someone, this happened to me, but I survived it and I’m thriving.

Take that step to talk to someone, empower yourself by sharing your story. Confront those in your life who you feel need to know.

It still hurts…

Yes it still hurts….

Abuse of any kind has a lasting effect on a person.  Just when you think you have put it behind you and overcome…it creeps in.  Flashes of memory like snapshots on a Polaroid camera…voices stuck on repeat, bleeding into your everyday life.  It only takes one thing.  A comment, a smell, a joke, a photograph..we call these triggers.  They come without warning and slap you right in the face.  All of a sudden, you can’t breathe, you feel the urge to cry but you hold it back because you’re at work….in class….on a date….with your children etc.  It feel kind of like someone is sitting on your chest crushing the life out of you.  Your inner self begins to scream “WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?”  Then comes the anger.  Anger because your day has been ruined, anger because your composure was compromised, anger because you realize yet again that it still impacts you.

Yes…It still hurts….

It is not simply “something that happened to you”, as some will tell you.  It is a part of you, it has played a major role in the shaping of your identity.  Forgetting is not an option, not a reality.  However remembering, painful as it is, can give you unending strength.  Remembering brings empathy, cautiousness, awareness, knowledge and power.  Remembering will help you to protect others, fight for others, help others.

Yes..It still hurts…

Use that pain.  Let it drive you in life.  Shout it to the rooftops “I’M STILL HERE”.  Be a voice for those who have no voice.  Do not beat yourself over days that end up in tears, because you my friend are a WARRIOR, I am a WARRIOR.  We carry out battle scars with us everyday.   Therefore we are entitled to days that end in tears, those days only make us stronger.

Yes…It still hurts…

But you are here.

I am here.

We are here.

Let’s not just survive, but let’s THRIVE. ❤

Disconnected

Relationships. There is a word I struggle with. Sure I’ve dated and I’ve been married for nearly 16 years. I have 2 kids, who I adore. Still, I struggle. Very few people know I struggle. I smile, give hugs, carry on conversations and seem to be “fine” with others. It’s the inner struggles, the ones no one can see that weigh me down.

Mother/daughter relationships is a big one. It’s a bond I’ve longed for since I was a little girl. I’ll never have it. I can only settle for the mother/daughter relationships I have that resemble nothing of an ordinary one I’d always dreamed of. I have two moms. My adopted mom (2nd cousin) and my birth mother. Although my adopted mom has all memories of my childhood as she was always involved, years of emotional and mental abuse has left us with a less than normal relationship. Her narcissistic behavior and controlling ways left an emotional imprint on my teenage years.

My birth mom left me as a baby (she was only 17) and was 100% not present in my life for 15 years. Zero contact. I longed for her, I prayed nightly for her return, I cried many nights and experienced way too much anxiety and depression as a young child. During her years of complete absence, I endured the loss of my only true emotional connection (my grandmother), physical abuse, emotional neglect, mental abuse and sexual abuse. I not only longed for her return but I wanted someone to rescue me. She never came. By the time I was 13 I was extremely depressed, suicidal and had lost hope of ever being loved by anyone.

When my birth mother showed up randomly, out of the blue, 2 weeks after my 15 birthday with her husband and my 2 year old half sister in tow, I was completely overjoyed. I had these great expectations of questions answered, a joyous reunion and all my feelings of abandonment and pain to magically be lifted. For several years we wrote letters and had phone calls (she lived states away). We shared pictures and by my senior year she had moved back to Georgia. I again had high hopes for this amazing relationship with my mom.

Unfortunately, every year it seems we had drifted further apart. Sure we see each other at my children’s birthdays, Christmas and Mother’s Day. But she doesn’t call, she doesn’t text, she doesn’t visit. She doesn’t put in effort. She hadn’t tried to form close relationships with het grandchildren. Honestly I feel like a second rate child compared to my two younger sisters whom she does share a close bond with. I love my sisters. I am pretty close to the older of the two. Maybe because we have a lot in common or because there isn’t as big of an age gap. It hurts to see how my mom is with them. Always doting on them, always proud, always thinking of them and spending time with them. She invests in them, she makes them a priority. She is a mom to them.

I thought if I wrote her a letter, explaining how I felt, it would make a difference. Instead all I got was excuses. The one thing I didn’t want. I just wanted honesty. It changed nothing except it did empower me. Empowerment is a great thing.

I also struggle with male relationships. I grew up most of my life without any kind of father figure. The few men who were in my life, abused me or wanted to, betrayed me and caused me pain. It’s been hard for me to trust men. I have a loving husband, my adopted dad who came into my life at 14 and the sweetest father in law. These are about the only males I trust and those relationships have taken years to build.

I realized that I am probably never going to get all the answers about how I came into this world, or have a true mother/daughter relationship. I know I’m probably always gonna struggle with this. It’s always gonna make me sad. I know I’m always gonna struggle with male relationships and trust issues. What I refuse to let these struggles do, is hold me back from loving people and doing my best to let those who do, love me.

Silent No More

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