I live in a world of personal distortion. I know it. I am not blind to my own warped sense of self perception. I grew up with the constant reminder that I was a grotesque. In the most literal sense of the word, I was the haunting gargoyle of a creature, keeping spirits away.
It was beaten into me both physically and mentally.
This isn’t some poor me soliloquy, but more about simple survival and overcoming.
I was drilled in the belief I am ugly, hideous even. Red hair, jade green eyes, skin so white I could shame paper….. a horrible freak of nature. Nobody looked like me.
As an adult I can see this for the manipulation it was always meant to be. It was an attempt by my father to drill in a self loathing, an attempt to watch me destroy myself for his amusement.
To be fair, he also was horrifically abused. Not that he ever talked about it, but I remember clearly his father, my grandfather, taking steel wool to my face to scrub off the freckles on my exceptionally porcelain skin. Leaving me a bloody painful mess…. Scabbed over for weeks.
Now back in the day, there was nobody who did anything. There were no child protective services. There was no intervention.
Nobody cared if I was covered in scabs or that my face was burned because my grandfather held my face to the fireplace glass to watch in exquisite detail the burning of a beloved stuffed animal when I was 4.
Luckily I bear no visible scars or disfigurements. I survived completely unscathed on the outside.
Mind you I am not that old, but I grew up in a small town where everybody knew everybody else. Which is a covert way of saying, we mind our own business and don’t ask questions about your weird shit.
So yeah, it was pretty bad.
But that’s not my story.
My story is about learning that I am more than these words or scars.
I didn’t need anyone to explain to me how wrong the words were, or how wrong the actions were.
But I did need to have many years of anger and frustration to vent all that pent up hatred. I did not seek counseling, or therapy….. Yes it is a wonderful tool, it serves many people and I have a great appreciation for it. I have a close family member who is in the field, so my access to resources has always been exceptional.
But I am a different kind of person. I didn’t need to tell someone my stories, I tried that route a few times, but it went spectacularly bad. I guess I can chalk that up the court appointed shrinks my parents divorce lawers forced on me.
I needed to find all the fragments of myself, to see everything for what it was, and incorporate all those beautifully shattered pieces back into me.
And I needed to do this myself, and once I made up my mind, I did.
I forgave all of this abuse because I recognized the toxicity and patterns that existed and I was not going to carry that baggage.
I read, I processed, I worked out my issues in various constructive ways.
Not only did I study philosophy, psychology, spirituality, but I became obsessed with studying the genres of relationships and communication. I was determined to understand what healthy relationships were, how people communicated, loved, lived, and became beautifully entangled in the glorious world of life.
I watched my friends struggle in their relationships, observing like some anthropologist watching the primitives of some foreign tribe. I dissected the differences in communication styles, love languages, healthy and unhealthy.
My focus was to understand how this beautiful world of love, support, compassion, and existence worked. I needed to understand this if I was ever going to heal myself and become whole.
Not to mention I needed to understand healthy relationships if I ever wanted to have one.
And it worked beautifully.
Of course I have my moments, when something sneaks up and bites me to remind me of some old abusive moment. Forgiveness does not mean forgetting, but it does mean learning to clearly recognize things for what they are, not super impose past hurt over it.
I will no longer hostage to these concepts or old wounds.
I have evolved into someone with a deep love for life and all things hopelessly romantic. I chose to see the beauty in relationships and love.
I am not blinded by unrealistic expectations or placing expectations on my partners. I come to a relationship filled with love and appreciation.
Choosing to bring an attitude of support and healing to those in my life. I know what the pain of worded daggers or unfaithful hearts can do.
Nobody deserves to be hurt. There is no excuse or place for dishonesty or cruelty.
I have learned to overcome tremendous abuse, to heal my own scars becasue I made a conscious decision to become aware and to know I would never inflict pain on another soul. I know too well what that pain feels like. If anything I do everything in my power to protect those I love, doing what I can to keep their hearts safe and protected.
Perhaps I do that to a flaw. Overcompensating in some way. Always trying to prevent the pains from seeping in, it’s the equivalent of trying to prevent the rain.
But just because it’s a futile task doesn’t mean I wont try.
If I believed in not trying because something is ‘futile’….. then I never would have tried to make myself whole.
And that worked beautifully.
Just proves what we believe we can accomplish, we truly can. It just may take some time and effort. But everyone can learn to heal, everyone can become whole again.