As part of my healing I find myself opening up more. In a recent conversation, while trying to explain the dynamics between my mother and I, the person I was chatting with says “ so she don't know you?”
She was correct my mother does not know me, not at all. I wonder how she would honestly describe me? I can not nor do I want to even imagine. Realistically I already know. I can feel it, deep inside me everyday. She has made it quite obvious that she believes I am damaged goods who needs God. She has shown me that while she knows nothing about me, including my religious beliefs, that I am not doing it right, or good enough. She has to keep pushing HER beliefs my way in hopes that someday I will become the little girl she always WANTED.
While I may not have been the little girl she wanted let me tell you what she missed out on. A child who was bursting at the seams with adventure, curiosity and a longing to be loved. A happy go lucky girl who tested limits because she never had any idea where they were. It helped her learn. She was inquisitive and just because you said something it did not help her understand it. She needed you to show her or explain to her. She could have offered you so much enjoyment, pride and love if only she was accepted for who she is/was. Now, as a more than middle aged adult, I too question who I am. I have to relearn so much, forgive myself and heal that beautiful little girl inside. I can say that I do believe we are good. Damaged don't mean bad. I want to believe that a part of me, somewhere tucked away, screams fun and laughter and love. I hope when (if) I ever come out the other side of this, that part of me stays.
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