Nothing broke me down more than my own believing of wrong beliefs, issued to me by those I counted on to teach and raise me up. The collectively held, shared, and freely communicated disdain within my family, was crushing.
“Magda is wrong, bad, broken, crazy, incapable and unworthy of kindness, consideration, care, belonging, acceptance, protection, connection……” Her high sensitivity to everything makes it impossible to love or even listen to her. If she would just eradicate or hide that, maybe, just maybe, she can one day participate in the family and the world in a way that matters.
Obviously, this is my composite translation of my experience and not a direct quote, but I would be willing to bet big money that these sentiments are still openly and repeatedly expressed – used to mandate how I am to be treated/handled/denied–by those wishing to remain in-group.
“Little one– You may at any time, trade your voice, truths, and needs– for a place at our table though. Abandon your feelings, desires and intuitions so that we can be together….like a family. If you would just go ahead and do that, now, like a good girl”
These root beliefs – I do not wish to keep. I utterly reject them and those relying on them to prop up their illusions of identity and rightness. (What my program teaches: A person’s inability to be kind, honest, loving, and loyal, is proof only of their defect, the things they have not yet learned. For the decades before recovery/ reparenting myself, I lacked knowledge and skill in things not modelled for me.)
Feeling and developing like THAT with people called family, did leave me broken, insane, desperate(Desperation did make me behave in ways that were cruel and dishonest), defect-ive AF.
I am so grateful for recovery which allows me to now live different experiences of family and love. I crumble at the idea of possibly having parented my sweet boys through the devastating and untrue convictions. It stops here. I am unlearning and letting go of some toxic shame. Amen. Fk that hustle and those lies.
I was deeply triggered by my reflections on mother’s day, as a failed daughter/human, along with the passing of another of my niece’s birthdays. While I am aware of how sad and angry I felt at times over the weekend, I am clear now that my awareness alone, will not relieve me of the pain. The work continues, but only for those unable to forget or pretend.
