IMPERFECT Lady

Our Family Legacy.

 

I didn't fully understand the trauma response, until I witnessed the opposite of it.  

When I was a mother of young children, I didn't even have this language or the awareness that what I was doing had a name. And more, that it was possible to course correct.

 

Actually I didn't even know I was traumatized by having been sexually abused - and this crippled me to responding in healthy ways.

When a child of mine was out of control - I would rise higher. Speak louder - okay yell. 

I fought to gain control by becoming bigger, louder, more violent than the out of control child. Fighting fire with a larger fire.

 

This wasn't unusual behavior - I had witnessed my mother's rages - or her stone cold silences - both trauma responses.

Mothering with trauma responding - leaves a child without the loving kindness of a mother.

 

This is where the lack of love and warmness enters into my relationship with my mother.

She wasn't capable of giving loving responses.

 

And I mirrored her.

 

It wasn't until I broke free of my denial and addressed and dealt with my childhood wounds and mothered myself with loving responses - could I then feel and give love to my children.

 

The difference between a loving response and a trauma response is like breathing and not breathing. 

 

One the child feels seen and heard - and safe.  

 

I am not even sure I can correctly articulate the feelings of the opposite - even though I lived it as a child and also handed it out as a mother.

 

You don't know what you don't know.

 

I was unaware that I was unloving.

 

I know this sounds insane.

 

It wasn't until I loved myself - could I love my child - and know what love is.

 

I loved my wounded self.

This alone trumped the trauma response.

 

Or maybe it ended it.

 

Maybe you can't have a trauma response IF you love yourself.

 

I witnessed my daughter respond as a loving mom - not with the trauma response.

It was the opposite way from my old mothering ways.  I recognized her kindness - and how kind it was for her child.

 

This.

This is the legacy I was striving to change.

 

It wasn't easy for her - she is my child - she didn't experience this as a child.  

She was breaking the cycle.

What a great gift she is giving her small child. 

 

My ultimate hope was that I could end the cycle of abuse - by changing my own responses so many years ago.  That if I could do different - then generations after me - would be spared.

 

Choosing love to respond isn't always easy.  Often it is the harder choice.  The one that takes most effort and requires hard work.  

 

Whether trauma responds or love responds - both will have consequences - but only one will have positive influences upon the child.

 

Trauma responses wound a child.

 

I knew that my behaviors, my awareness - and even my denial and trauma responses - critically affected my children.  Once I became aware - and broke free of denial - all my choices were made with them in mind.

 

Once I saw - I couldn't unsee.

 

Each decision I made either would influence my legacy positively or negatively.  The generations behind me would reap what I sowed.

 

Seeing my daughter mother differently - shows the pattern changing.

It both was both exhilarating and sorrowful.

Knowing she had to also change the pattern in her world.

 

Perhaps the pattern I set in place - was that it was possible.

My legacy is that we can change the patterns we were born into.

All my sorrows and pain of being estranged has not all been for naught.

Seeing the generation below me have awareness and mother with love - was my end game.

My heart weeps knowing what was possible for me - is possible for generations after.

There is nothing sweeter than seeing the patterns changing into loving kindness.

The difference for a child - is knowing love.

 

The trauma response will still arise in me - but I now also have the choice of a loving response.  And, it is typically the harder choice to take.

Loving requires doing what honors you and the other - and truth.

 

I am just so grateful we have both choices alive in our family legacy.

I Hold You in My Heart

I watched Michele Obama being interviewed about her latest book "The Light We Carry" with Oprah and they talked about Michele's friends.  The ones she calls her Kitchen Table.

 

The Kitchen Table has a relaxed image - one where we don't have to put on aires. We can be ourselves in this group.  In fact, we feel at home with them and our truth is honored.

 

These friends are found along our journey of life.  We carry them with us, as we grow, evolve and face some of life's darkest moments and celebrate with us our achievements and joys.

 

As I sit here today, I am reminded of the girls who have been with me.

Watched me grow and change and lead a life that some can't understand.

 

Not all my friends have continued on with me. Some found my table to hard to sit at - my truths too upsetting to their beliefs.  My voice spoke of things they need kept silent. 

 

There have been times in my life my table was crowded - and other times many empty chairs. 

 

I have a friend from my middle school days - we had years of silence and now we are reconnected.  We both had life experiences that changed us - and yet we still fit together. I treasure our friendship and how she holds so much of my history and embraces my new self.  A friendship that can hold changes feels good to me.

 

When my kids were little, another mom with young kids and I connected. She wasn't from the church I was in at the time. We felt at home with each other - we clicked.   When she moved away, we lost touch for awhile - and now when life throws us a curve ball - the other catches it. She gets me and has loved me unconditionally and I her.

 

I found a friend at one of my jobs who was the best thing that came from working there.  A sister friend is how she feels.  We can share our lives with each other and there is no shame or critical eye. Just an open space to sort out life.  We too had moments in life where our lives were busy and perhaps we didn't need the counseling space - and then other times we talked daily.

 

I have found friends during their time of need and I felt my history of loss would be helpful - and over time we have bonded deeply.  Sisters who have shared darkness and found hope. Sisters who travel down pathways each never saw coming. We have deep heart connections.  And, we walked each other towards the light - found hope in the hopeless and joy we didn't think possible. We have witnessed each others growth and success of thriving after heartache.

 

I love that some of my Kitchen Table friends have encouraged me to be an adventure girl- I have wonderful women who enjoy the outside. These ladies have grown me. I am different with a garage full of gear that I use in different seasons.  Some are badass and make me feel kinda badass myself. Being outside and challenging myself has helped my self-esteem.

 

I have artist friends who are great cheerleaders and sounding blocks. Some have been with me from my very early years.  Sharing your art is sharing your soul.  These are brave vulnerable souls.  

 

I look back at some of the friends I had from the church - wistfully.  We shared the common belief system - and were comrades of sorts - with similar foes.  I have lost some that still hurt my heart - our common ground slipped away.

 

At one time, I thought wrongly - that I didn't need new friends - that I was too old to start making new ones.  

 

What a mistake that would have been.  I continue to meet women who I click with and we are in the early stages of friendship.  We can't know where we go, what we do and how long we share our lives together.

The best part about my kitchen table - we can laugh, cry and be silly. We can share our hopes, our dreams and our deepest fears. We can work out life's difficult questions and debate our differences.  

The differences in my friends help me to see life from so many aspects. Views I couldn't have reached on my own.

 

Being away from my family of origin left me with quite a hole.  These friendship over the past few decades have filled so much emptiness. They opened their arms and hearts to me.

 

One of my oldest friends recently told me that families are not as advertised.

I sat with that awhile and found she was on to something.

 

Friendships and who sits at the Kitchen Table with us is so much different. We decide who is worthy of our time and truths - who come in carrying the fullness of who they are.

My Kitchen Table is much more welcoming as I age - or maybe because I am religionless - but I love the beauty of uniqueness - I love strength of character; I love characters!  

My Kitchen Table has empty chairs and is ever expanding in size - I look forward to the new ones I have yet to meet.

And my kitchen door works both ways. I do understand how some had to leave and more could do so in the future. I part in peace.  I know we lasted our season and reason. Not all are meant to be life long friends.

 

I love my Kitchen Table friends for being who they are, and for making me a better Me. My heart is full when I think of you all.

I hold you in my heart.

Dance Party!