“There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way and not starting.”
Buddha
I felt the loneliness today of my Aunt who ran away. A woman I never met, yet I feel we are one.
I felt her sadness of being misunderstood and unknown, how her choice to save herself, sentenced her to a life alone outside of her family.
Ostracized for escaping, for saving ourselves, for walking free of abuse, we are not cheered, no clapping instead we are jeered with sarcasm.
I never ever thought my harshest critics would be from my own family, they are forever punching the already weakened psyche.
The Little girl within feels so sad, empty of words to make them see.
Today I wondered about my Aunt and her life, how she survived without contact from her family, yet like me the family she missed is the same one that brings her pain.
The intellectual part of me understands that the energy they bring me isn’t healthy, but my heart yearns for acceptance, for understanding and even empathy.
Like missing the stick that is poking you in the eye.
I have more empathy for folks who are set aside because of who they are, parts of themselves they cannot change.
Maybe because my Aunt disappeared and no one spoke her name that I want there to be words about me.
Perhaps this blog is a way that I too will not just simply disappear without a trace. (www.imperfectlady.typepad.com)
In the first few days of my father being accused of criminal sexual conduct, I wrote.
I wrote in disbelief, I wrote the words to anchor myself somewhere, to hold me in the sea of grief.
Writing is evidence of my journey.
I have kept all written communications from my family as evidence. I know that is an odd word to use.
It was the evidence I needed to sort out which one of us was in reality and which one wasn’t.
My mental mind fought a long hard battle up against reality and in reality there are written words from a family who is not cheering me.
In as much as I want them to be cheering, what I needed more were their words of mental ness to shine the way out.
Maybe in the end their shouts of sarcasm are cheering me forward.
They are showing me there is nothing for me back there.
They were showing me how not to be.
Showing me how far I have come.
I feel the energy of my runaway aunt; she joins me in spirit as I run along, lending me her courage and strength. I feel the spirit of many little girls whose time ran out, who were too empty to begin, I run for you.
I run towards wholeness with truth at my side.
I feel you with me as I run.
The refrain “you are the wind beneath my wings” came to mind.
I am so grateful I was able to run away.
I am so not alone.
All little girls everywhere who suffered like I, I run for you.
I run, because you can’t.
