I lived my life thinking “what gives me the right to deserve anything since I haven’t accomplished anything worthwhile”. Whatever accomplishment I achieved I would belittle, whatever compliment I’d receive meant nothing, whatever milestone or hardship I would survive, was barely mediocre in comparison to the perfection I had to measure up to.
However, over the past week, a huge can of worms has been opening up from my insides… childhood memories I chose to repress, many incidents I blocked, happenings I hid, emotions I decided that are insignificant for me to ever share, horrifying memories just all came to surface and I could’t stop them… my whole life unravelled.
Mocking and belittling or negating my feelings when I was barely a child, to the fear I used to get dare I ever talked back or refused, to emotional neglect and being rigidly strictly sheltered growing up; a controlling over-protective mother and a distant passive father… I am remembering it all, every incident, every conversation, every tear!
I never understood why although my sister walked all over them, grabbed whatever she could, never listened or gave them a second of consideration, never did what she was told, they liked her more, her degrees meant more, her accomplishments meant more, whatever little she gave them meant more, her pains meant more… she will always be the kinder in their eyes no matter what she does, no matter what I do…
I cannot claim that my parents never loved me or cared for me, but they sure as hell never liked me, specially my mother… the way I talked, thought, made friends, carried myself and up till now, all I have been doing is trying. I constantly go out of my way to be there for her, to care for her, to listen to her cries or pamper her depression, to hear endless whines about my sister and her life and how she misses her and how I should somehow fix it, to endure the guilt-trips about the torment I put her in and the suffering she went through to raise me up. Still… nothing is ever good enough for a tiny compliment even, just comebacks of criticism and judgments!
Well… if my own parents didn’t like me, why should anyone else? If they always underestimated or ridiculed my cries (most of the time literally), why should anyone else care? How could I have ever trusted my own gut, when I was raised to believe that I always misinterpret my own feelings? If whatever choices I made were wrong, why would I make any?
But my agony didn’t stop there…
Sexual molestations from a hairdresser that rubbed his dick on me while he did my hair… A School guard that knew me since I was a child, decided that I was dry humping material… Trainers, who thought that my boobs or ass are ok to feel up… Plumbers, who thought that it was ok to talk to me as 14 year old about sexual issues… just to name a few.
Guys shaming and threatening my reputation to get more of what they want… feelings of abandonment and rejections from friends I trusted and boyfriends I loved…and an eventual rape from a drunken friend, who did not hear my No’s no matter how I said them. Some of which I completely forgot has ever happened.
That was all before I reached my 20’s!!
So… What were the vibes I was sending out? Perhaps, I am the one giving out wrong signals, or probably I am just over exaggerating these situations too? I thought people only saw me as easy, but if ever they would get closer they wouldn’t like who I am… for fuck sakes, my parents never did…
I attracted paedophiles, rapists, molesters and all kinds of abusers of kindness and finally a husband who disrespected, walked all over me and eventually verbally and physically hurt me.
During my marriage, I bore insults, neglect, and harshness, just to not seem weak! Him too I tried to change for. I bore harassment and over stepping of common boundaries just not to be disliked by him! Beatings, and pushing and kicking me out of cars and homes and criticising me in every way possible. I was never good enough, I was never responsible enough or fun enough or decisive enough or obedient enough. I loved him and wanted to impress him, but never could. Like my parents, claiming that he loved me, but I don’t think he ever liked me. Defiantly, it must be something that I have done or something that I am doing that warrants that sort of treatment and dislike, I always thought to myself. Something in me always found him excuses, some voice inside was constantly whispering that I deserved being treated that way.
It is what it is, I fucked it up, he fucked it up .. I let him fuck it up, she fucked up… what gives! It’s broken! I know that… everyone who knows us knows that!
But HELL YES I’m scared and confused… and remembering all that history I get that I’m all fucked up and dare anyone who hasn’t walked a day in my shoes judge me for that…!
They don’t know that I’ve never felt safe a day in my life; growing up, job interviews, around any man, going down the elevator, walking down the street, at home or near my own friends… They don’t know that I have never felt liked; by my parents, by own husband and anyone else who came close enough to really know me. They don’t know what led to be to be so indecisive in every aspect of my life. They don’t know what if feels like to silently consent to being touched and grobbed just because of fear of not being what I thought was expected of me and hating myself for it. They don’t know how it feels like to be shamed when I did say something.
They don’t know how unfair I was to him, because of what I went through and where I came from and being who I am. They don’t know how unlucky he was to be with me when I never understood who I am. They don’t know me!
They don’t know the weight I bore during the marriage from my mother that made me not able to give it my all. They don’t know the pressure I had at home to make me run back to him every time and the harshness I saw from him to make me run back to them. They don’t know the fucked up situations I have endured that shaped who I am. They don’t know what it feels like to always feel so weak, but be treated as invincible because of my tone or body language or the way I look. They don’t know what it feels like to be sexually abused and yet filled with unfulfilled sexual desires and the confusion that creates. They don’t know how it’s like when one’s thoughts, feelings, past experiences, nurture, needs and common rationale are never aligned!
Feeling worthy takes nurture and mine was never nurtured!
It wasn’t fair to be asked to realise the patterns of abuse or codependency and stop them; I grew in these patterns and through them. It wasn’t fair to be ever expected to be decisive and know what I wanted, hell I was always scrutinised for any choice. It just wasn’t fair to be expected to be centred or strong or accomplished or any kind of normal, neither to have self worth or self-confidence or self-respect, where should I have learnt them. And it defiantly wasn’t fair to be expected to be a good wife, a good companion, a good daughter, when I was never whole.
It wasn’t fair for either of us.
But most of all, it isn’t fair that someone would go through all this in one life time!!
What do I do with all this information now? What do i do with all this pain that has been bottled up for years? What do I do with all this anger and resentment?