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. ❤
Facing your 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.