Hubby was home yesterday so I didn't really get around to posting on the blog. He's the kind of guy who wants to be my hero, he wants to protect me from the big bad world...and I love him for it except when it comes to my past.
He always says it's no good to run from your problems, that you have to face them in order to make them go away.....but when I talk about my past he has a contradictory point of view. He doesn't like it when i talk about my life before, my family, growing up in Vermont etc. He doesn't like it because he wasn't able to be there to protect me and stop the hurt. He says I should just forget about it, that was my life then and this is my life now and I should just move on. Although I do agree that moving on is important, lord knows I don't want to be stuck in my past, I do feel it's important to remember my life and try to learn from past mistakes. Not just my past mistakes, but also the mistakes of others. Besides, who I am today has a lot to do with how I grew up. If I had not been abused I might not feel so strongly about certian topics, I might not be as careful about a lot of things, I might be too trusting of strangers and get badly hurt....afterall, if my own parents could do the things to me they did, what would a stranger do??? They don't have an emotional bond, they don't even know my name, they wouldn't miss me if I no longer existed.....not really sure if that was true of my parents either but it's the way we think when we are abused. We love our abusers regardless of how they treat us because they are our parents. Today, I can honestly say that I no longer love my egg donor and my sperm donor, they were merely the pathway to my existance, they were not really parents, but tyrants in my young life. I can understand now...back then I loved them because they were my parents...today I understand they were messed up big time and did not deserve that love.
Anyway, back to hubby, he gets very upset when I talk about my life as a child....even if it's to share one of the few happy childhood memories I have. His face gets tight, his muscles get tense, you can literally see a transformation happening. That look of anger and hatred used to put me back into my zone thinking he was angry with me....now I know he's just angry at my past because he couldn't protect me from the evil. A part of me simply does not understand this train of thought. Shouldn't I be the one who is that angry that they can't even mention it? Shouldn't it be me that gets tense when my life is mentioned? Shouldn't it be me that wants the conversation to stop?? He was born in 1969...2 years before me...what could he haave possibly done to help? How could he have saved me from that pain?? He couldn't, but I shouldn't have to forget that I existed and suffered and (more importantly IMO) I SURVIVED! I am living proof that there is life after child abuse, there is hope. I feel awful for those poor children who are so much worse off than I was, the children who are dead before they have a chance to get out, the children who are returned to their parents because they aren't old enough to have a voice to speak up and say "NO I will not go back!" I don't see how those social workers can be so blind, how they can't see the parents have not fixed their issues....only that the issues were gone when the kids were in foster care. There's an old saying that I once heard about men
"Once a cheater, always a cheater"
Why doesn't that apply to abusers as well? Are there any cases where the parent abuses the child, the child gets taken away, given back and the parent never abuses again??? I doubt it!
"Once an abuser, always an abuser"
Now that makes sense to me.
There are no specific thoughts today, just my random thoughts. Ya'all have a great weekend and hug those babies close 'cause they'll only be little for awhile and one day they're going to understand you a heck of a lot more than you want them to...and when that day happens I hope mine can look back and still say with earnest
"I love you mom!"
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