We all have dates we remember, dates that can be celebratory and dates that can bring sorrow with reflection. Dates, marks of time, moments where our lives held significant changes.
We give these days power...or try to control ourselves as they approach.
Today is December 4th. The day I heard truth spoken about secrets; dark secrets.
A day I was able to bring in all of reality- denial was broke.
It calculates the amount of time that has passed.
The start perhaps of a trail of sorrow.
Or, the journey of learning.
I can look upon it with eyes of what I have lost.
And do at times.
Mostly, I am grateful for what I have gained.
My inner transformation has created a person whom I am very comfortable being.
As the space expands into another year, the distance between my old self and new grows larger. As does, who I was, compared to who I am.
I look at the passage of time and it does seem incredible that I am no longer part of my family and haven't been for roughly 12 years. That is insane.
On NPR, a conversation was about a soldier and how he was able to tell stories of his time at war. Whether he would tell the real truth or a proxy story. To make others more comfortable, he would tell a proxy story instead of what really happened.
This struck me.
How often do we live by proxy...to make others more comfortable so not lose a friendship or face the consequences of the truth?
Imagine a world where truth is celebrated heard and accepted, no matter its content.
I believe, that so many suffer due to not being able to be their truths.
In the past 12 years, I have had to allow all truths to enter into my space; not just the easy ones or the ones that reflected well upon me. Nothing was off limits. My denial recovery depends on my ability and desire to be present with what is.
My true self comes naturally with plus and minuses.
Ups and downs.
Highs and lows.
Sorrows and joys.
There is no part that has to be kept hidden and separated.
As the season of family is in full throttle, I could get depressed and overwhelmed with my losses. In the past, this time was the hardest. Now, I am used to being separated.
Being different then the rest.
Removed from the family exchanges.
The distance and time has made them dimmer.
Their lives have gone on...and changed.
I have lost touch.
The loss is of something I don't know now.
It is no longer a new loss.
It is a fading memory.
Time does heal by gathering more now times in its place.
I am a ghost in their worlds.
And, they in mine.
Time passes, people change, distance steps in, hearts heal, lives grow and expand with new experiences.
The estranged create a new world where the loss grows smaller with time.
Unlike death. We don't strive to include remembrances.
We seek to fill the holes.
Changing the patterns of abuse into new self loving ways.
I feel successful as a past victim of abuse.
I have left the legacy of abuse behind and all its trimmings.
I may be standing alone, but I am not passing on the torch of denial, which is the key component to abuse.
Celebrating 12 years denial free!
