I felt ashamed when I carried my baby out and put him in car seat – I felt I was useless didn’t know anything and that everyone was judging me saying things like look at her she is rubbish. And I remember how my mother always called me “rubbish” amongst other labels.
Today we went out for a drive – I felt embarrassed and ashamed of how I might have looked which time me is almost always so ugly, and that again when I walked hand in hand with my infant, people might be watching and thinking oh look at her she can’t even take care of her child. Sometime back the neighbours complained about the dogs running off when my gardener has mistakenly left the garden gate open. The neighbour came and shouted at me.
And I felt like a little girl again who was caught; as a child I never knew what I would be caught for and when. Suddenly there would be a blue handled hairbrush that would land its blows on my legs repeatedly till they were bruised. This was the norm especially when I went to the toilet in the middle of the night. Before my mother came home I would hide inside the toilet scared she would beat me as soon as I came out.
Even though my little bubba is mine and he loves me, I don’t have a sense of security that he is “my” little bubba. I am always on guard inside of me. It’s like I am waiting for something to go wrong again. That’s how things were at home for us. Love and danger came together hence the association leading to abusive relationships that start with the abuse of self.
I felt people would know that I wore that same dress again or the same shoes. I looked at other girls noticing how together they were and doting their parents were. I used to wait to be invited to any of their houses for lunch during school, I always craved that affection and family. One Christmas I remember being invited by a friend to spend a few days at her home with her family; I started to fantasies that they would take me under their wing and make me theirs. I started calling my friends brother as my brother too, and her parents as mummy and daddy too. I vied for their attention, would offer to press their feet and share in their chores.
There were many such families that I shared my time with and only now did I realise that I was seeking that completeness that I missed in my childhood of having love – real unconditional love. Having someone there for you no matter what. I never had that.
I felt embarrassed that my little bubba might think what a crackhead his mama is! Does it surprise you to know that’s how I was labelled by my mother! The wounded child continues to hold court. I realised then that just like when my inner child was holding my life’s reigns such that no matter how I grew up physically she was the one calling the shots, that I was always trying too hard to the point of breakdown. I did that in my career even at my long spiritual travels when I just didn’t give up even when the going got tougher than I could handle all culminating in acute burn out.
And I continued that pattern with friends and spiritual forums I held in which I was holding the space till the wee hours in the morning – I was totally exhausted. But did I stop? No. I simply kept going.
I am still doing that now despite having physically relaxed in the amount of chores I do around the little bubba or activities I organise for him, I mentally drain myself out by setting way up high standards expecting for me to heal overnight and stop reacting suddenly to things my little bubba might do. My reactions I know are not about him or anyone else. These are always ours.
The anger is our response to pain- the pain we feel of being abandoned and not being loved. We were not loved. That feeling stays till it tears you at your core and then like a Phoenix you rebuild yourself and rise again into your original wholeness- the little bubba you were rises again! Imagine that.
So let’s do a practical exercise. Think back to when you have responded in anger towards your little bubba. Think now that you were the little bubba and your caregiver admonished you for something and you felt anger that they only loved you for when you did what was expected of you according to their rules as opposed to what you could do developmentally appropriately. See where this takes you. I won’t guide you – you can guide yourself with the light inside of you. Embrace those dark shadows and wow drop me a line about what next.
It’s okay, you fudged up, but you are not a fudge up. You were the one who was wronged; those that left you alone and in a corner waiting to be rescued fudged up, not you. But look around and see. There’s no danger. It’s time to sigh relax and know that you are healing and the best of you is yet to come.
You are beautiful. Glowing and radiant.