Broken relationships will not mend with silence. Nor, will they be repaired with time. I believe, that there has to be a movement of some kind; someone has to walk backwards and wipe away the line that was drawn in the sand.
Someone has to call uncle and withdraw their original beef.
In order for the old peace to be won. A truce called.
I don’t believe you can leap frog over a dozen years and land in the present and reconnect without a cost.
While it has been many years of broken relationships with my family of origin, each of us is holding something we value.
Something we value MORE than the relationship we have with each other.
I am not the only one who is ‘holding out’.
Each of the broken ones have a different voltage with me.
I guess the more energy I put into the relationship, the longer it lingers in my body, mind and soul.
The ways in which my mother and I broke apart were felt for a long time. Mostly in how I didn’t really know her. And the affect of her actions upon me. And, how I had to rebuild myself into a reverse image of her.
In order to reconnect, I would have to reverse my ways to look more like hers.
“Birds of a feather, flock together…”
Mostly, I feel that the broken relationships broke for a reason. Each of us were unwilling to break who we were; so it was easier to break apart.
For my side, I was no longer able to lie to myself; to be untruthful to me. I had just found myself. A broken self who had just discovered her abuse. I wouldn’t leave her feelings and refused to lighten the abuse or water down its affects.
There was no grace or light that could erase magically this part of my biography.
In standing with my broken self, I stood against abuse; and those who supported the abusers even if by their silence.
When I look backwards at what I could have done different, I am always led back to me.
To be with me and my truth.
In order to mend the broken relationships, I would have to break me.
It would mean going back on my words to myself.
To let my wounded little girl go silent and stuff that part of my biology back into the dark.
It may seem like an easy road back; but it would be littered with parts of me.
I recall feeling like each new truth was bringing a part of me back to myself. So, to reverse the journey, it would be to give parts of me away.
I whole heartedly believe, that I would truly lose my mind, self and soul to start cutting me up now; aware. To die while alive.
I believe that parts of me were stolen bit by bit; either by religion or abuse, or just society’s rules.
Now, I am a whole being.
I embrace all of my biology, warts and all.
In doing so, I am unwilling to break me apart for any relationship.
While there is grief over what I have lost; the bigger tragedy would be to lose Me.
I have a grasp on my integrity and authenticity.
It has taken me dozen plus years to get all the pieces back that I gave away in lies, to be like, to get along, to be a good church person, a daughter, a sister etc.
My old life cost me Me.
To sweep away the past 12 years and jump back into old relationships, would be to travel back in time and become the old me.
Or the start of my fall.
Falling away from Me.
My rigidness is being faithful to me.
As, the other is faithful to who they are as well.
We broke, so to remain honest to what we believed.
I do miss them. Or, the potential that we had...
