Inner Child Reflection

All of life is a series of events and choices that lead to more events and more choices. We are constantly filling our memories with mundane and magical moments, yet we cling to the terrorist trauma because it screams the loudest. We reflect on our childhood wounds but forget to also reflect on the moments of peace and pleasure.

I reflect on the abandonment, the feelings of being invisible and forgotten, the feeling of not being safe because of the company that was kept that was allowed to get close to me and steal my innocence and joy. Witnessing the pain and struggle of my mother who worked tirelessly to raise two wounded souls alone. The fear of seeing him come back in time after time making promises and knowing he would soon break them all. He didn’t know how to love, and she didn’t trust that she was worthy of something better. The words that were said to try and “help” me be perfect only turned into words of disgust for my reflection knowing I would never be good enough because I wasn’t skinny enough, or pretty enough, or I didn’t do enough to make him stay, or her to accept me.

Seeing their kindness to others and how others loved them so dearly made me wonder why the same behavior wasn’t reflected to us at home. I protected her, I consoled her and tried to make life as easy as possible for her because her heart was repeatedly broken and abandoned, because she worked so hard, and while I felt her love, it would disappear in his presence. He tortured us with his narcissism and his emotional and sometimes physical abuse because he wasn’t willing to try harder. He went around searching for love from anyone who would give it to him, leaving a trail of single mothers left to fend for themselves.

I had friends that would come in and I would feel so safe with them, and they too would leave me. It happened over and over again, being left on the outside, being abandoned and forgotten, I was an afterthought. I still long for the types of friendships that I see others experiencing, and so I give, and I give in hopes that they will stay, but my wounds still blaze and I am still left behind.

“It wasn’t all bad” was what I heard from the woman next to me in a sacred plant medicine ceremony. It wasn’t all bad. A lightbulb exploded above me, such a simple phrase but allowed me to see the forgotten moments that felt safe and good. The moments of being with my grandmother, watching her sew outfits, dolls and quilts for me, watching the price is right on her shag carpet while my blind grandfather listened to Patsy Cline and Hank Williams. Seeing the 3-inch ash on my grandmother’s cigarettes while she played solitaire and drank her coffee every morning and made me pancakes. I remember the feeling of connection to nature when I would go to my uncle’s home that sat on a hill overlooking the spring fed pond, with the woods surrounding them.

There were times when I would lay in my mothers lap and she would stroke my hair, when she would make our favorite meals, or when we would play Bonnie Raitt and Stevie Nicks in the car and sing our hearts out. There were times when he would make her happy, or when he would pick us up to take us to a movie or tell a funny story. When I found music and art to be my release, he found something he could connect with me on, he finally accepted me because I could sing.

My childhood was like being in a dark room alone with specks of light peaking in, and now I am choosing to cling to those specs of light, even though there are far fewer moments of light, I am choosing to let them grow bigger, carving out space for the light to shine down on that beautiful little girl who deserved love, safety, peace and joy. The darkness starts to look a little different, I can see them as wounded children seeking love, safety, peace and joy, and through that reflection I can find forgiveness.

Life is full of unexpected twists and turns, and while the weight of the trauma I had would rock most. I learned how to face it all with love and compassion, I no longer turn away and hide or shove it down to stay silent. I embrace it with loving arms, I embrace her, my little sweet self. Now the darkness isn’t so bad because I am the light. I choose to shine.