I was never a boy-crazy girl. I didn't plan my wedding, name my children or doodle Mrs. Tori ____ on my notebooks. I didn't really notice boys like the other girls did... and maybe part of it was that I wasn't really noticed by boys. Even when I started to turn their heads, I still just didn't really notice. I "dated" a little, in the sense that I talked on the phone and passed notes but it never crossed my mind that any boy I'd met would end up part of my forever.
But eventually I started getting the hang of the dating thing. I held hands with a couple of boys and I got my first kiss quite by surprise when I was 15. I began to see their intrigue and I promptly removed myself from every situation which I felt could turn into more than I was willing to give. And I wasn't willing to give anything.
The first boy I ever fell for took me by surprise. I didn't think I really caught his eye at the party, but when a mutual friend called to tell me he was adamant that he see me again, well... I let it get me. This cool, cute, fun, older and very sought after guy wanted ME?! Wow. Just. Wow.
So we went on a date and this began my first actual relationship. And we had fun. We would hang out together watching tv or blowing bubbles or listening to music. He took me to movies and to the prom... and it never crossed my mind that he would ever hurt me.
So when he coaxed me to find a way to come to this college party his friends were having, I lied to my dad and went. Two hours away and every mile filling me with dread, I realized I had made a huge mistake. I didn't drink, I definitely didn't do drugs and I wanted to go home more than I had ever wanted before. But when you're the 16 year old girl accompanying the 20 year old guy to his friends' soiree? You grin and bear it. So I did for a while. But the illicit behavior got to me and I exiled myself to the truck. And that's where he found me, him completely wasted on everything he had taken and me unable to stop him.
Nineteen years and a grown daughter later, I can finally come to terms with the reality that this event scarred me on a level I never saw coming. It made me cold to romantic love. Because, you see, the only person I had fallen for let me shatter on the ground. Then he left the pieces laying there, never understanding how they broke in the first place. It's been nineteen years and I will die before he acknowledges his offense.
I have known for a while that I allowed terrible men to treat me horribly because I felt like I deserved to be punished for just being who I am. I have known that I settled for men I had no intention of loving because I felt they couldn't hurt me - I was wrong, by the way. But it hasn't been until recently that I have really accepted that I actually shut down a long time ago. It wasn't the act itself. That left me feeling dirty, ashamed and like I deserved every bad thing that could possibly happen to me. No, it was the betrayal. The fact that someone who I loved and who was supposed to love me could inflict such unspeakable pain, horror and shame on me. That they could take something so precious without a second thought. And that they must have never really loved me at all.
And how could I have been so blind? So stupid? So foolish? How could I be as smart as I think I am and still be taken for a fool?
I don't know that it's a fear of loving someone or being loved that keeps my heart hardened to the possibility of a real loving relationship... I think it's the fear of being played for a fool. Sometimes betrayal hurts more than loneliness. There's never a guarantee that anything will work out. And there are still a lot of people out there just itching for the chance to see me in a jester cap.
I was broken a long time ago and it's taken me more than most people could even comprehend to even like myself at all, let alone feel as though I deserve good things in life. But I am a beautiful mosaic of life lessons and failures, laced with love and hope and bound together by optimism and determination. I may still be working on breaking through my own barriers, but I'm getting there.
I know my heart works because it hurts sometimes. Maybe I'll figure out how to bypass the shutdown, maybe I won't. But I needed to be honest with myself about the origin so that maybe it will no longer hold any power over my heart. Not every man hurts the woman who loves him. And I'm finally starting to believe that men are capable of love, too... also something that I'm almost ashamed to admit I never realized. I was always under the impression that love is weakness and only women are weak emotionally. The reality is, those who love are the strong ones.
It's time that I give myself the strength to rise above the hurt, the fear, the betrayal and the misconception that I'm not worthy of a happily ever after.
I don't usually make new year's resolutions... but perhaps I should saunter into 2018 without the baggage from 1998. I'm at least going to try.
Thursday, December 28, 2017
Monday, June 12, 2017
A thought...
I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. I own that. I actually own my past more than most people are willing to accept. I will openly discuss my life story and I will give my experience based advice when asked, but it took me a long time to get to this point. I wasn't always proud of myself and I didn't always have a reason to be.
However, one thing I've learned is that we are who we are. We all make mistakes and those mistakes - along with our successes and how we handle our failures - they shape who we are. And for the first time in forever, I like who I am.
18 years ago, I lost my standing with my family. They didn't care that I really was a good student who had abstained from boys, they never cared that I was taken advantage of in a moment where I had let my better judgement slip. All they saw was shame. They were quick to tell me how worthless I had made myself and what a horrible mother I would be if I made the incredibly selfish decision of keeping my baby. I kept her anyway. And we fought. We fought like hell.
Time marched on and because impressionable young women tend to absorb the nasty opinions of those who matter to her, I fell completely into the mentality that I was no good. No one would ever want me, I didn't deserve nice things in life, I could never work hard enough to prove I was a worthy human being. So I made decisions based on that fallacy of worthlessness. I allowed myself to be paired with men who honestly did not deserve me. I allowed people to talk down to me. I allowed myself to be battered and bruised mentally, physically and emotionally. I lost my true identity because I believed that I was the person 96% of the world held no hesitation telling me they thought I was.
So I made mistakes. God, I made mistakes. I did things I can never take back. I aimed the path of my life into the dark and charged forward feeling like whatever pain and failure I absorbed along the way was exactly what I deserved for going to that party that one night... and having my virginity stolen. Dangerous relationships, suicidal behaviors, extreme depression and when I reached out I was slapped down with the assumption that I deserved everything that was coming to me.
One day, far later than I care to admit, I realized that I am not a victim. Yes... I have been victimized, many times, in fact, but I AM NOT A VICTIM. I made choices, not great ones sometimes, but it is never too late to be the person you want to be. And I didn't want to be unhappy anymore. I didn't want to hate life. I didn't want to continue to allow people to have outdated opinions of my worth and give them any stronghold to that mentality.
So I opened my mouth and I spoke. I started talking. Not really about the people who I allowed myself to engage with or how badly they had hurt me or in all honesty, how I was so unfeeling that I didn't hurt at all anymore. I opened up about kindness. About love. About hope. About self worth. About how you can't change even one moment of your past but you can direct every moment of your present and step by step work toward being the best you in every moment. And about how you should treat those who need grace. And an amazing thing happened...
Real people connected with me. People who felt worthless and needed someone to tell them that they have the final say. People who struggle with depression who needed someone to help them cope with their demons. People who were shrugged off when they tried to seek help for cutting. People who needed to hear that there is hope. People who needed to hear it from someone like me.
I still have family who thinks I am a terrible person. Some just think I'm lazy and a bad mother. There will never be anything that I can do to change their opinions. And that's their issue. Not mine. I still have to deal with the ramifications of not carefully selecting the men who fathered my children. But I'm wise enough to know that the high road is the only route worth taking. I still struggle with the fear of losing everything. But I work very hard to give myself and my children the very best chance. I still slip into depression sometimes and when I do, I feel like a hypocrite. But that's okay, too.
The reality is: it doesn't matter to me what my father's brother thinks. It doesn't matter to me how old school acquaintances might talk about me. It doesn't matter to me if a stranger who has never met me feels like I'm a whore or uneducated or should be forever alone. I'm not here for them. I'm here for every person who has people like them mounting up and they're suffocating under the pressure. I'm here for my children. Those lives that I brought into this world and those humans who will go forth and spread the legacy I instill in them.
And when I foolishly allow myself to slip into the mentality that I am not good enough... I need someone like me to snap me out of those chains and remind me that I know who I am. And who I am is worthy.
Your past does not define your ability to alter your future. Weak moments do not make you a weak person. Whether you've struggled a moment, a day, a month or years... just know that you are worthy. The only person who can alter the course of your life is you. And people will either encourage you, lift you up and help guide you... or they won't. Sometimes a path has to be travelled alone. Don't let anyone's opinions chain you. Take back control of you.
If you need silver linings, you know where to find me. A dose of hard truth and clear direction does wonders for a clouded reflection.
Seeing clearly.
Much love, y'all.
However, one thing I've learned is that we are who we are. We all make mistakes and those mistakes - along with our successes and how we handle our failures - they shape who we are. And for the first time in forever, I like who I am.
18 years ago, I lost my standing with my family. They didn't care that I really was a good student who had abstained from boys, they never cared that I was taken advantage of in a moment where I had let my better judgement slip. All they saw was shame. They were quick to tell me how worthless I had made myself and what a horrible mother I would be if I made the incredibly selfish decision of keeping my baby. I kept her anyway. And we fought. We fought like hell.
Time marched on and because impressionable young women tend to absorb the nasty opinions of those who matter to her, I fell completely into the mentality that I was no good. No one would ever want me, I didn't deserve nice things in life, I could never work hard enough to prove I was a worthy human being. So I made decisions based on that fallacy of worthlessness. I allowed myself to be paired with men who honestly did not deserve me. I allowed people to talk down to me. I allowed myself to be battered and bruised mentally, physically and emotionally. I lost my true identity because I believed that I was the person 96% of the world held no hesitation telling me they thought I was.
So I made mistakes. God, I made mistakes. I did things I can never take back. I aimed the path of my life into the dark and charged forward feeling like whatever pain and failure I absorbed along the way was exactly what I deserved for going to that party that one night... and having my virginity stolen. Dangerous relationships, suicidal behaviors, extreme depression and when I reached out I was slapped down with the assumption that I deserved everything that was coming to me.
One day, far later than I care to admit, I realized that I am not a victim. Yes... I have been victimized, many times, in fact, but I AM NOT A VICTIM. I made choices, not great ones sometimes, but it is never too late to be the person you want to be. And I didn't want to be unhappy anymore. I didn't want to hate life. I didn't want to continue to allow people to have outdated opinions of my worth and give them any stronghold to that mentality.
So I opened my mouth and I spoke. I started talking. Not really about the people who I allowed myself to engage with or how badly they had hurt me or in all honesty, how I was so unfeeling that I didn't hurt at all anymore. I opened up about kindness. About love. About hope. About self worth. About how you can't change even one moment of your past but you can direct every moment of your present and step by step work toward being the best you in every moment. And about how you should treat those who need grace. And an amazing thing happened...
Real people connected with me. People who felt worthless and needed someone to tell them that they have the final say. People who struggle with depression who needed someone to help them cope with their demons. People who were shrugged off when they tried to seek help for cutting. People who needed to hear that there is hope. People who needed to hear it from someone like me.
I still have family who thinks I am a terrible person. Some just think I'm lazy and a bad mother. There will never be anything that I can do to change their opinions. And that's their issue. Not mine. I still have to deal with the ramifications of not carefully selecting the men who fathered my children. But I'm wise enough to know that the high road is the only route worth taking. I still struggle with the fear of losing everything. But I work very hard to give myself and my children the very best chance. I still slip into depression sometimes and when I do, I feel like a hypocrite. But that's okay, too.
The reality is: it doesn't matter to me what my father's brother thinks. It doesn't matter to me how old school acquaintances might talk about me. It doesn't matter to me if a stranger who has never met me feels like I'm a whore or uneducated or should be forever alone. I'm not here for them. I'm here for every person who has people like them mounting up and they're suffocating under the pressure. I'm here for my children. Those lives that I brought into this world and those humans who will go forth and spread the legacy I instill in them.
And when I foolishly allow myself to slip into the mentality that I am not good enough... I need someone like me to snap me out of those chains and remind me that I know who I am. And who I am is worthy.
Your past does not define your ability to alter your future. Weak moments do not make you a weak person. Whether you've struggled a moment, a day, a month or years... just know that you are worthy. The only person who can alter the course of your life is you. And people will either encourage you, lift you up and help guide you... or they won't. Sometimes a path has to be travelled alone. Don't let anyone's opinions chain you. Take back control of you.
If you need silver linings, you know where to find me. A dose of hard truth and clear direction does wonders for a clouded reflection.
Seeing clearly.
Much love, y'all.
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