14 Years
I just wrote 5/15 on a message note for my boss. Click. A date of rememberance. Do you have those dates? Dates that are hold much more significance than just another turn of the page. Memories, emotions, photographs in the mind. As I sit here I try to sort out the feeling. It's a mixed emotion. Because something changed 14 years ago. The good came with the bad. The elation with the confusion. The joy and the sorrow. A turning point in my life.
I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately. The last few weeks have been a sorting of feelings and emotions. How do I really feel? Dare I feel? It's a relationship that began in the womb. But did it really? It's a bonding from the beginning of my existence. But was it really? It's complex and jagged and painful and yet... comforting. We all thought about that relationship yesterday, in some sort of way. Because yesterday was Mother's Day.
Oh, I've spent hours and hours and hundreds and hundreds of dollars trying to really understand what that relationship is. A mother to a daughter. But more importantly - MY mother. To me. But in the last few weeks it has solidified a little more. I understand it more. I think. It is such a complicated thing. How do you begin to trust that which has hurt you. And yet has loved you? How can those things go together? The answer is that they don't. Like oil and water are the emotions I received and that I now feel.
I have begun to realize that my optimism has come at a great cost. It has not allowed me to truly feel. But dare I? Dare I feel that which has both pushed and pulled me like a giant rubberband, snapping me in great pain, and yet pulling be back time and time again? I was not taught to really feel. Because feelings come from thoughts and thoughts and ideas can be different than those of others. And different from those of our parents.
As I was conversing with my co-worker the other day, she made a comment on how as you raise your children, you keep in mind that the purpose is to allow them to become more and more independent as they grow. Process. Process. Process. What a refreshing thought. Can it be true? Can parents strive for their children to be independent? Does it not always produce conflict, strife, guilt trips? How can it not?
From my experience, when an effort to control clashes against an independent thought, two things can happen. One, the dominant control wins, shattering the belief system, independence and confidence of the child. Or two, the independent thought wins, but the consequence of guilt and silence envelopes. So, is that really winning?
The first 15 years of my life, the Control was in control. On May 15, 1992, a window was opened. Like a beam of light into a dark room, a relationship began that opened my eyes to something different. It wasn't instantaneous, but time caused the possibility to become the reality. A different relationship began to grow. And as that one began, so began the downward spiral of the other one.
I had my first date 14 years ago today. No longer did I want to accept every decision my mother granted me. My feelings became more important. I began to realize that not every mother was like my mother. It didn't always HAVE to be that way. But my realizations were not made into a reality. Far from it. I attempted to deal with my frustrations, the best I knew how. Submission, silence, sneaking around. None of them healthy, but neither was the relationship.
As my feelings would build up, I would cover them up. Showing those feelings only brought more pain. Learning how to reverse that pattern would become a life-long process. Learning to shut down became a defense mechanism. An unhealthy one at that. The feelings of guilt and fear took their toll. The wounds became scars. Do you see those scars on me? I try to hide them well, but they are there. The fears are still real. Fears of repeating the parenting I received. Fears that the cycle will not break.
Looking back, I am still grateful for that day 14 years ago. The day another world was opened. But now I see a bigger picture of that world. One that I hope and pray will become more and more clear as the days go by. I think the scars are starting to fade with time. I pray they do.
I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately. The last few weeks have been a sorting of feelings and emotions. How do I really feel? Dare I feel? It's a relationship that began in the womb. But did it really? It's a bonding from the beginning of my existence. But was it really? It's complex and jagged and painful and yet... comforting. We all thought about that relationship yesterday, in some sort of way. Because yesterday was Mother's Day.
Oh, I've spent hours and hours and hundreds and hundreds of dollars trying to really understand what that relationship is. A mother to a daughter. But more importantly - MY mother. To me. But in the last few weeks it has solidified a little more. I understand it more. I think. It is such a complicated thing. How do you begin to trust that which has hurt you. And yet has loved you? How can those things go together? The answer is that they don't. Like oil and water are the emotions I received and that I now feel.
I have begun to realize that my optimism has come at a great cost. It has not allowed me to truly feel. But dare I? Dare I feel that which has both pushed and pulled me like a giant rubberband, snapping me in great pain, and yet pulling be back time and time again? I was not taught to really feel. Because feelings come from thoughts and thoughts and ideas can be different than those of others. And different from those of our parents.
As I was conversing with my co-worker the other day, she made a comment on how as you raise your children, you keep in mind that the purpose is to allow them to become more and more independent as they grow. Process. Process. Process. What a refreshing thought. Can it be true? Can parents strive for their children to be independent? Does it not always produce conflict, strife, guilt trips? How can it not?
From my experience, when an effort to control clashes against an independent thought, two things can happen. One, the dominant control wins, shattering the belief system, independence and confidence of the child. Or two, the independent thought wins, but the consequence of guilt and silence envelopes. So, is that really winning?
The first 15 years of my life, the Control was in control. On May 15, 1992, a window was opened. Like a beam of light into a dark room, a relationship began that opened my eyes to something different. It wasn't instantaneous, but time caused the possibility to become the reality. A different relationship began to grow. And as that one began, so began the downward spiral of the other one.
I had my first date 14 years ago today. No longer did I want to accept every decision my mother granted me. My feelings became more important. I began to realize that not every mother was like my mother. It didn't always HAVE to be that way. But my realizations were not made into a reality. Far from it. I attempted to deal with my frustrations, the best I knew how. Submission, silence, sneaking around. None of them healthy, but neither was the relationship.
As my feelings would build up, I would cover them up. Showing those feelings only brought more pain. Learning how to reverse that pattern would become a life-long process. Learning to shut down became a defense mechanism. An unhealthy one at that. The feelings of guilt and fear took their toll. The wounds became scars. Do you see those scars on me? I try to hide them well, but they are there. The fears are still real. Fears of repeating the parenting I received. Fears that the cycle will not break.
Looking back, I am still grateful for that day 14 years ago. The day another world was opened. But now I see a bigger picture of that world. One that I hope and pray will become more and more clear as the days go by. I think the scars are starting to fade with time. I pray they do.
posted by Amstaff Mom | 7:39 AM
15 Comments:
Thanks for sharing your heart... for being raw... and for being real.
Understanding how your parents parented only makes you a better parent in the future.
sweet jcol, i love your vulnerability in this post and i love your heart, your precious wonderful heart that loves so freely, i'm so glad that is a part of you, the real you, and it shines through all that you do
jcol, would it be improper for me to feel exasperated after reading this entry?
you are the SECOND person in the past couple days that has written about this issue of allowing ourselves to feel, despite our mood, despite our optomistic tendencies.
the SECOND person whose entry has burned a whole in me because your words (and the other blog's words) represent so much of what I feel and what I haven't wanted to write.
and still, i feel something brewing, i feel something forming within my mind, but so far out of reach that I think it may never reach the surface.
so, to you, thank you for sharing your heart, a heart that echos my own in so many ways.
My three friends... You all have inspired me to share my heart. To be real. To not try to always look at the bright side so much as to deny my feelings.
This is a loooooong process that I have been going through. Definitely not there yet, but I think I'm beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
All of us have scars, I'm realizing that now. We just need to decide whether we're going to let them start healing or not.
Yes, I have a few of those dates. *sigh*
I had a similar relationship with my own mother. But counseling, and time, has taught me to appreciate the good things and make the choice to not repeat the bad ones... and make the most of what time is left for us. It's a careful, cautious waltz between two very different personalities. I would highly recommend counseling with a good Christian counselor to help you sort through what you're feeling.
I don't know what to say, so here's a hug:
{{{{{{{{AM}}}}}}}}
Hmm. What to say in response?? BLUGH. Oh well, there's always the bright side. At least you are no longer the primary object of the control. >:) heheheheh
Saur - It's only through the counseling that I've even got this far.
Deals - THANK YOU! I love hugs.
Miss - yeah, blugh. you know it all to well. I hope that changes for you. and soon.
Amstaff, good deal. *hugs*
You are an amazing person, to be who you are after being hurt by one so close. A mother should offer a refuge and support, while understanding that you are not she. A mother should want her children to grow and develop, and you clearly have. You are a wonderful, healthy, loving person.
I guess I'll just join in the *hugs*, since that really is the only proper response.
*hugs*
Ouch. This post hurts because we hurt when the people we love hurt. It is interesting how little tiny moments that are spent with someone can reveal so much. I've seen glimpses of the scars, but more importantly I see the person that you are and what a blessing and a joy you are to everyone around you.
Our parents make mistakes, some that will shape us for the rest of our lives, but we can learn from their mistakes as I am sure you have.
Don't doubt yourself JCOL. The fact that you know the difference between what is good and right is important. Their are some children that beat their kids because they were beaten as kids, and then there are parents that realize it isn't right and they correct that and don't pass it on to the next generation. You will be a good parent.
Saur, Lia, Eddo:
Many, many thanks for your kind words. I really appreciate them.
SUMO big hugs.
Have you ever read a post that you are not sure how to comment?
This is one of them. Normally I don't comment... but I decided that that is the easy way out.
The only thing that comes to mind is this: You will make a great mom when that time comes. You have a heart to do what is right in the eyes of the Lord and as a result, you will break the cycle.
I know it.
AmCol, you are such a sweet lady, and blessed to be able to share all of this. That you understand even a fraction of your mom's actions is just HUGE. Your heart is so precious and pure. Thank you for sharing.
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