Hello my friends. If you have been following my blog, you know that I'm finally, as a 60th birthday present to myself, beginning to sort out all the hurtful things that were done to me as a child, teen and into adulthood with my "family" of origin. That's in quotes because they really weren't a family to me. On top of catering to two very self-centered bio parents, I was made to cater to their also super narcissistic spouses and then parent their children. Between the abuse, neglect, abandonment, endangerment, exploitation, parentification, toxic shaming, trauma dumping, scapegoating and gaslighting about it all, I never had much of a childhood. And ergo no room to be a normal teen either. There are lonely, scared and confused kids of many ages in my head.
So I'm kind of messed up when it comes to knowing what a normal-ish childhood or teen years would look like. I do think and I have been told, that I was able to help my children have somewhat better childhoods. I say somewhat because I made a bunch of mistakes and did some bad things too. But they were, for the most part errors and not malicious damage.
And as I look back, doing things differently with them than was done to me, is part of how my wounded inner child finds some peace. It is incredibly therapeutic to be the change you wish to see in others. I don't do it perfectly or even well, all the time. But I try. And I show up. Which is more than I can say for my parents.
Why do I keep bringing up what happened to me? Because I never really did. And my poor little inner girl got sicker and sicker, keeping all the toxic inside. In writing about it, I can admit what happened and how I felt. As I work to do better with my kids and now grandkids, I can contrast the difference between their experiences and mine. This helps affirm why I've been so miserable, frightened, anxious and confused, and why I second guess myself all the time. Intimidation, undermining, shaming and exploitation were my normal experiences for me.
When I compare the safety, love and care I give my own, with the neglect and shame I was given, it helps me understand me why and how what happened to me was wrong. When I recall my life and experiences at their ages, I note how really disturbing and dangerous mine were and how I'd never in a million years let that happen to mine.
So, as per the title of this post, what is the single healthiest thing I can do to help my wounded inner child? Well, I can't go back and fix what happened. I've tried to go back and meet her where she is and it just makes me sadder and madder that I was subjected to all the trauma. But what I can do is be better for my kids and now grandkids. To give them what I needed and didn't get. And I can enjoy and be grateful for the times with them. To celebrate the circle of life that I'm blessed to be part of.
I think that was the single most hurtful thing done to me was to not be appreciated, enjoyed and treasured. Everything that happened, the abuse, neglect, abandonment, exploitation, cruelty, gaslighting, parentification, scapegoating, manipulation and harm, all happened because there was a lack of love, care and respect for me.
So paying it forward with the new generations, is a win-win for us all. It won't erase what happened to me. It still makes me mad and sad for little me. But the joy I get from my real family and the joy they say that I give them, in a way is better. What happened to me should not have happened in the first place. And I'm not saintly enough to say how it all worked for good, that whatever didn't kill me made me stronger. Sanctimonious hogwash that perpetrators use to exonerate their bad behavior.
It. Should. Not. Have. Happened. Period. I'm not a better person for it. I'm brain damaged, have no boundaries, and hate myself most of the time. What enjoying my now family and trying to do better does, is that it helps heal generational trauma and gives the new folks a better life. And it validates, so sad and hurt me, that this is what it should have looked like with you, sweet little girl.
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