I found out recently that the adult son of a former co-worker was arrested for involvement in internet child porn. His mom and I haven’t worked together or seen each other for over 10 years. We worked well together and always got along, but just never kept in touch. Yet, when I found out about her son, I felt compelled to re-connect with her. I wanted to send a note saying “I’m thinking of you and your family.” That’s it. No advice, no judgment, no comment. Just connecting as one person struggling with the curve balls of life to another.
But, no sooner had I decided to write when indecision took hold. I tried to put myself in her shoes and wondered what she’d think if she got a card from me. I worried; would a card be intrusive? Offensive? Welcome? Would she be embarrassed by the acknowledgment or would it be comforting? For over three weeks I have vacillated about what to do.
Last night it finally dawned on me that part of my hesitation was due to my old feelings of being judged, misunderstood and rejected. A memory slowly came into focus as I struggled with these emotions. During one Christmas break in college, I mentioned to my sister-in-law that I’d made an effort to stay in touch with friends by writing letters regularly during school. (I’m aging myself by admitting this was pre-cell phone and internet days) Her response was “What makes you think anyone wants to hear from you?” My mother sat there; her deafening silence confirming to me the truth of what C. said. Thankfully, her words don’t have the bite they had 30 years ago, but the effect returns now and again, unexpectedly and unwelcome. I still question whether I am of value or importance to others.
After unsuccessfully working so hard to separate my issues from the situation at hand, I finally realized I was missing the point. God reminded me that He put the desire in my heart to reach out to someone in their time of pain. Therefore, I needed to trust Him to use it for His good. So, the card sitting on my desk will finally go out in today’s mail. My heart feels lighter, although there remains a flicker of butterflies in my stomach.
How about you? Do you have a story about questioning your worth?
Dec 30, 2012 @ 05:12:33
Wow. I relate to every word you wrote in this post.
What your sister-in-law said was evil. Your mother’s tactic agreement-by-silence was an even greater evil. Mothers are supposed to defend and protect their children. When they don’t, the emotional wound the child feels is incaluable. Yes, even if that “child” is an adult.
My mother is exactly like that. Most of my siblings are, too. My parents made me the family scapegoat when I was much too young to even know what a scapegoat was. I did nothing to deserve, it, either. On the contrary, I was always so eager to please, it was pathetic. Heartbreakingly so. My “mistake” was being born at the wrong time, to the wrong parents.
What your sister-in-law said, and your mother, by her pointed silence, tactically agreed with, was a form of soul murder. Tearing down kind, caring, good-hearted people, is what hateful, selfish people do to build themselves up. What your sister-in-law said didn’t even make any sense, apart from her obvious intention to make you feel bad, in order to make herself feel better by comparison. It made no sense, because most normal people love to get a letter, it makes a person feel good to know that someone thought enough of them to make the effort to write and keep in touch.
As I said, most of my family of origin treats me like this, too. It is healing to face and write about it. But I have also learned the hard way that when I share these painful stories from my life, most “normal” people, who come from fairly “normal” families, are completely unable to relate. To someone who has never been the regular target of pointedly hateful putdowns, coming from “family,” the people who are supposed to love you and be in your corner, these incidents seem almost like petty complaints. But OH BOY, do I get it.
I’m sorry you come from a family that treats you this way. That is a major hard stumbling block to have in life. But, it’s so cool that you are not rolling yourself up into a little ball and giving up! Yay, you!!
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 08:07:36
Hi Lady Quioxote,
It is so wonderful you’ve come to visit! Thank you for sharing your thoughts and for your validation of my feelings.
My S-I-L’s words were very hurtful, and mom’s silence was devastating. Few people ‘get it’ as deeply as you did. On one hand, I appreciate the ‘connection’ with one who understands; on the other, I’m sad you understand because it means you were also hurt in similar fashion.
It’s evident that you, too, have found what it takes to move past the pain and live the life God has inteneded despite the hurt others have thrown your way.
Thanks again…
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 11:37:43
Thank you, Denise. I appreciate the connection, too. I’m so glad you stopped by my silly little blog and commented, which led me to your blog.
Regarding what you said : “It’s evident that you, too, have found what it takes to move past the pain and live the life God has intended despite the hurt others have thrown your way.” — well — I’m getting there. Better late than never, I suppose. In the past couple of months I have been working harder than ever at finding healing answers. I was pushed into doing this when I realized that the trauma and dysfunction of my childhood has been unwittingly passed down to my now-adult children, and they in turn have passed it on to their own children, despite all their (and my) love and good intentions.
Several hours ago I read one of your posts in which you tell about being strangled by your drunken father when you were a little girl, to the brink of unconciousness. I was too badly shaken to post a comment when I read that, but now my nerves have settled down and I am ready. I don’t remember which post that heartbreaking story is in, so I will post my comment here:
In August I was told that my then-14-year-old granddaughter was pregnant. The baby, a boy, is due to be born in February. She plans to keep her baby, my first great-grandchild. But, back when I was told about the sad/happy news, I was also told that she had been hiding her pregnancy under big heavy sweatshirts in 90+ degree heat, because she was afraid to tell her parents. I live more than 1,400 miles away, so all of this was news to me.
A few days later, in talking with another family member, I found out why my granddaughter was so afraid, and was still desperately hiding her growing belly. Her fear was because someone whom I love more than my own life, who has never been the same since a terrible head wound, has twice strangled my little granddaughter in fits of rage. Several adults in my family who live in the area knew about this, was they were all keeping it a secret, to protect the perpetrator.
Oh, Denise — I know what it’s like to be strangled to the brink of unconsciousness, because it has happened to me: it happened once when I was 15, in a vicious unprovoked attack by a mentally ill stranger, and it happened again many years later when I was briefly — not to the point of unconsciousness — strangled by an abusive ex-husband. I also know what it’s like to have a parent actually try to kill me, although in my case, it was not done by strangling. But, even so… when I found out about the abuse that my granddaughter has endured, I felt the trauma on every level. After calling and talking with my granddaughter, who begged me to keep it a secret, because she also wanted to protect the poor mentally-damaged perpetrator, and then after praying and talking it over for a couple of hours with my husband, I did one of the hardest things I have ever had to do in my life. I called Child Protection Services in the state where my granddaughter was then living, and reported the abuse. My intention was not at all to hurt the perpetrator, for I truly believe that the old head injury is responsible, and not the person; but my intention was to protect my young granddaughter, and her unborn baby, and even to protect the perpetrator, from a potentially deadly situation.
As happens far too often when a child is being abused by a family member, no one stepped up to the plate and helped me, when I was a little girl. People look the other way, people don’t want to get invovled, people think “someone else” will do something, people believe that it isn’t really that bad, because it’s too painful to think about, otherwise… it’s like turning on the TV and seeing one of those commercials of pitiful fly-covered starving children in third world countries ;we’d rather quickly change the channel and get back to happy, than actually move out of our comfort zone and do something to help.
And, as in my family’s case, people are afraid of hurting the perpetrator. We find excuses for the abuser: he or she was drunk, he or she is mentally ill, he or she has a head injury and cannot help having an out-of-control temper. All of that may very well be true, and, if we have ever had teenage children of our own, we know how maddening they can be, how they can provoke us to wrath, sometimes with just the disrespectful smirk on their face.
But, the bottom line for me was that a child was in danger, two children, in fact, counting the fetus, which I do. And, because I knew about it, I was responsible to do something about it. That’s the bottom line. Just as someone should have done for you, and someone should have done for me, and someone should do for all the children who are being abused.
So I made the hardest phone call of my life, I reported the situation to Child Protection Services. And now my pregnant granddaughter is living in another state with a wonderful loving relative who is in the best situation for providing everything that my granddaughter and her baby needs. But, in the meantime, everyone in my family was FURIOUS at me for calling CPS! My voice my was filled up with outraged messages, and text after text after harrassing, soul-annihilating text, came into my phone and my husband’s phone, while I was on the phone with CPS!
What’s wrong with people? I don’t know… I let God be their judge, He knows what’s wrong. But anyway, after that huge upheaval back in September, I did 2 things. First, I went to bed for a couple of weeks and slept and cried and wished that I didn’t have to be here anymore. Then, when I’d had enough of that, I got up out of bed, and I went on what I call a Madness Marathon, in search of Answers. I am searching for healing answers on behalf of my adult children, my grandchildren, and the great-grandchildren yet to be born. I am also searching for healing answers, albeit rather late in life, for myself. And… wow. Just, WOW! The things I am learning! What an amazing, hard, but healing spiritual journey this is!
I could tell you so much more, but I’ve written plenty already! I’m tired of writing, and you are probably getting tired of reading, so I will stop now.
Big Hug for you, ((((DENISE)))). I’m so sorry you were abused as a little girl, but I admire the woman you have become.
Lady Q (aka Lynda)
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 11:58:39
Lynda,
You are a hero. You have drawn a line in the sand and said ‘the buck stops here.’ You are putting into action what everyone says should be done, but noone actually does.
The fate and direction of that unborn baby boy’s life will be forever altered because you had the strength to do the right thing. What a different world we’d all live in if everyone did what you did.
I am so honored you’ve shared such a personal part of your life here. I didn’t tire of your writing; I actually hung on every word. There is so much you’ve touched on, and I’m absolutely amazed at your strength and perseverance. It is incredibly marvelous how the blogging community enables us survivors to find each other, understand and validate each other, and support each other. I am so grateful for you, your blog and your story.
Your ‘silly little blog’ really isn’t so silly, you see. Your warmth, tenderness and kindess are a breath of fresh air. The obvious love you have for your dog really spoke to me, too. God knew we needed to find each other; He really blessed me with you as a new friend. I look forward to connecting more soon.
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 12:25:17
Your reply gave me chills. I’m crying happy tears.
What you said about the love I have for my dog — this is another lesson I’ve learned rather late in life. I was 50, my husband 54, when we met. We’ve been married not quite 9 years. He’s a crazy Vietnam Veteran leather-wearing big biker version of Captain Kangaroo, and Dr. Doolittle, combined. Animals of all kinds, and children, love him on sight. He’s the reason we have our wonderful dog. I used to think dogs were dirty and a lot of work. Now, I never want to live without a dog again.
I grew up with a mother who ridiculed people for loving their pets. She nipped my natural love for “dumb animals,” as she calls them, in the bud. But now, I know how precious all of God’s creatures are — well, maybe not all, I’m not too thrilled with poisonous snakes and spiders, but I love the domesticated creatures. Our fur-baby Cattle Dog is like our child. A rescue, she was abused and abandoned as a puppy, and she, too, has PTSD. We 3 are truly made for each other.
When I am caring for our little dog, I feel in a way like I am caring for the little girl I once was, who did not get the love and protection and gentle kindness that all children need and deserve. I see myself in her, the girl I used to be. There is the same innocence and dependence and eagerness-to-please, with a little red-headed ginger thrown in, for spice.
Somewhere there is a verse in the Bible that says — I’m paraphrasing — that you can tell what kind of a heart a man has, by the way he treats his animals. My dad, with all his mental brokenness, was good to animals. My mother was the opposite.
I’m so amazed that we have connected. What a great tool this internet can be! OK… deep breath… I’m going to get off the computer now and do some things around the house. I’m looking forward to reading more of your blog, and interacting more with you.
L,
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 13:35:28
There really is something about how people treat their animals that’s a window to their true selves, isn’t there?
What a wonderful story, the 3 of you finding each other and such a happy little family now. My heart rejoices for you all!
PS my daughter is a red-head, and yes, you gingers do add spice to the world!! 😉
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 12:55:03
PS: I feel like you are the friend I’ve been wanting all my life.
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Dec 30, 2012 @ 13:36:09
That is the most amazing compliment ever!!!!
Thank you, so much! I feel the same way about you -we do speak the same language, that’s for sure!!
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Jun 16, 2012 @ 15:10:34
It has taken me a long time to realize that God gifted me with my emotions and compassion for a reason and like you did in your caring letter, it is to reach out to others. 2 Corinthians 1:4 says, “He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.” My challenge is to let go of any expectation.
Regarding my questioning my worth, I question it every time I claim to be a writer. I don’t have the credentials or the training, but I know God wants to use it. So I chose to believe Him and not the voices in my head that want me to believe otherwise.
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