So…. One of my tattoos is the word “mercy”.
MERCY: compassion or forgiveness shown toward someone whom it is within one’s power to punish or harm.
It was around age 30 when I was first able to discern those rare and random occasions(while with my FOO, and then my marriage) in which I could sense moments of non-banishment. Not due to kindness, compassion, empathy, or even mercy. Those were simply the times in which I happened to present as useful, amusing, pleasing, pleased (rarely this) and not needing. Most especially the latter. Not overtly desiring or or expressive of a need for anything, which was not freely offered(or collectively appreciated) was the requirement. So basically shutting TF up, getting small, and denying my reality. I was terrible at this. Put out or be put out. No mercy. No love. No acceptance. No safety. Only eggshells and shame…oh, and rage, of course. A fuk-ton of anger. My FOO and marital home houses literally pulsed with rage, both unspoken and screamed.
It was very fucked up and also unsustainable.
So, now that I am super in the know(lol- total newb- love rookie, actually), I absolutely love love love the practice of being merciful. I am frequently in a state of disbelief that MERCY is even a real thing that we can learn, do, model for our children and practice with those whom we have decided to judge as least deserving. I had previously come to learn that they (we) were meant for punishing, withholding, and pushing to the margins. Dismiss, ignore, invalidate, smear, withhold, destroy. Super Hitlery and terrifying. PSA: Nobody’s worth can be proved or disproved. Efforts to do either are proof of unwellness and brokenness at the deepest levels. I am now gratefully in recovery— unlearning the things that made me believe and then behave badly.
Anyway, on a less meta note: I am heading out to play with Favorite and her niece for a few hours before Sweet Greg arrives. Boys are with their dad, so perhaps also I will get the house tidied, while I contemplate mercy and try to be receptive to Sweet Greg’s unconditional love. After nearly 6 years, it can still feel unnatural, uncomfortable, and completely fkn unbelievable.
I am a work in progress.
