The person I had been before; the happy kid, the carefree and wild and innocent girl who wore brown corduroy overalls with turtlenecks, that rode bikes with the boys, and pretended to fall flat on her face while walking in the middle of a crowded mall because her best friend bet she wouldn’t; the girl with that huge, ridiculous smile on her face that radiated from her fingers to her toes…..she was gone.
Looking back, I watch the process: the slow stripping of confidence, the way my abuser etched away at my strong personality that I was unaware anyone could touch. Piece by piece, combined with my own desperate attempt to rid my body of any semblance of feeling, all burying me as far away as possible and leaving nothing more than an empty shell to take my place.
I’m not sure, really, where it lies for you. For me it was shame. Shame; that shut me up, that kept me smiling just the way I had always smiled, and forbid me from ever trusting myself or anyone again. The type of shame that clouded me from seeing anything beyond the distorted view of what was happening. The type of shame that never let things be anyone else’s fault other than mine. The type of shame that made me hate the sound of my own voice, made me reach out for attention in a seeking manner that defiled my inner being, the glimpse of my own reflection, and made the thought of seeing the girl I had become, unbearable.
It took me years to realize that the shame I felt, was given to me– wrapped nicely in a pretty package that looked a lot like love, and even after I broke myself from all the abusers hold, I still held the shame they left behind and thought it was my own.
So….how do I get my life back? How the heck do I find my way back to the person I was before the abuse and merge the pieces of myself together?
I’ve spent most of my life becoming a victim, treating myself like a victim, and eventually convinced that I am serving a life sentence while everyone else walks free; wishing for someone to give me all of the steps to follow to get back to the person I lost and to figure out who I am now. The key words: who I am now. But, there was a moment where I was going to settle for knowing that any of this may not be even possible; all of which left me screaming out to someone, anyone, and so very angry at a higher power that I couldn’t hear them; “Am I even heading in the right direction? Will I ever get to the end of all of this….will I ever be ok again???!?! “
And then, ever so slowly, it begins to come back; tiny flecks of me that force their way through the numbness and the fear. For me, this process started by etching away at the shame. Piece by piece. So slowly at the beginning that I couldn’t even see that I was making change, but as I look back those moments were life changing. I had to be angry, I had to hear my inner voice voice, I don’t have to be the abuse. I am not the crazy jealous rage. I am not the assault. I am not a lie. More so over, I wasn’t the same person. In fact, I had become a better person, a more vibrant person, I am the girl who will dance in the mall, who smiles from ear to ear, who has emotions, and who can love with all her heart!
Life Is Just A Soul Of Cherries 