I M Perfect lady

Tag: leaving

  • I am allowed to feel…

    I lose control of me, when I feel I have lost control of others, and it puts me in a very immature action, where my voice gets higher and higher the more I feel I am losing.

     

    What I can’t understand is why I want control in the first place, when life is showing me I have none, nor will I ever, nor is it mine to have.

     

    Being a mother tests this in ways you would normally not have, or perhaps it is in relationships too, but for me it is in mothering where I lose it.

     

    I lose my decorum or any spiritual idea of being in love, peace and joy…it evaporates quickly and in its place rages an out of control woman who wants control of the uncontrollable.

     

    My son’s life is saturated with folks I would rather he keep his distance from, and this fills me with anxiety that explodes unexpectedly for both of us.

     

    It seems so simple to him, let me be with my friend, let me work for a cheating man, let me hang with friends from a cult like religion, just let me be.

     

    And to me it seems I am knowingly allowing him to engage with folks who are confused at best and due to this fact alone, will not hold his best interest at heart.

     

    Yet my hollering is not helping…and I have no other response.

     

    While I lay in bed after he happily was off again, it came to me to let him go, as he is long gone already.  He has always been there; he hasn’t left just because I have.

     

    I somehow missed this, that when I left, I felt I pulled them all out…even when and if reality and life are showing me different. 

     

    I fear losing them, and instead they are already gone.

     

    I guess I didn’t want to know I walked away from the crowds and places they are comfortable in.  I didn’t want to know I left my children there, but I did.

     

    I raised them with the ideas and thoughts and beliefs of the cult like religion, being comfortable around dysfunctional people, and now I appear like the madwoman as I rant in fear because they still enjoy being there.

     

    I seethed in hatred for living here, for that bunch still having an influence over my children, and I knew that my hatred was directed at me.

     

    That what I rail against is not about them, but about me.

     

    I hate me for the dysfunction I brought to my children.

    I hate it when they show me over and over what I taught them.

    I hate to see it and I hate to own that it came from me.

    I hate that while I became aware, I can’t change my children, I can’t stop the train I put them on as children.  I hate that I now must find peace in allowing them to be where I planted them.

    I hate that I have no control, that I can’t rip them out of the dysfunctional gardens I planted them in and transplant them in a space that is much more kinder to their souls.

     

    I hate that I have to watch them grow there.

    I hate that I am aware in moments like these.

    I hate that loving someone means letting them make choices that are not like mine.

    I hate that I hate that which I cannot change.

    In hating it keeps me from accepting, but accepting at times is a hard pill to swallow.

     

    I am granting me time to hate…like a mourning process.

    I am allowed to hate until I accept.

    I am allowed to not like that which I don’t like.

    I am allowed to feel out of control, when I am out of control.

    I am allowed to feel…

  • Mine.

    As I was reading Chapter Two of The Artist’s Way book by Julia Cameron, I found similarities between finding your artist self and leaving toxic relationships.

     

    She is leading you forward suggesting ideas and things that will focus on self and in doing so you discover where you are standing and how you have been living and who has had their hands on the reigns of you.

     

    Unblocking the Artist is like opening the eyes of those in denial.

     

    Julia speaks of poisonous playmates and crazymakers and I see them as the dysfunctional family I was lost among where there was no space for my self.

     

    She makes reference between giving up toxic thinking as giving up drinking.  And those still enjoying the toxic beverages and the toxic mindset, will not be your cheerleaders and in fact will weaken your resolve.

     

    The Artist Self is the self that is untouched by other’s influences, but whose sense of being comes from within and is connected to the Universe. 

     

    She is looking at this process from the self outward, where I was looking at leaving the mess of dysfunction.

     

    I wasn’t trying to find an authentic artful self, but rather fleeing from the abusive family that I felt had stolen my self.

     

    And it had, a pattern maker or follower had replaced my own artistic creative self, I had no personal connection to the Universe, I was plugged into an extension cord. 

     

    My sense of self flowed not from the Universe; it came from my mother/father/brother/sister/friend/anyone but the Universe and me.

     

    When everything that was holding the definitions of me was shown to be very dysfunctional, I then seen my own dysfunctional self. 

     

    I saw what the extension cord was plugged into, and I unplugged them all.

     

    It was the unplugging them that freed me to be available to hear the Universe, to pay attention to my body, my feelings, my emotions, to connect me back to me.

     

    The definition of Universe is one song.

     

    I am now singing one song… mine.

     

     

     

  • A place for me to stand.

    The stressful thought is if my husband does nothing or if my husband supports friends of this cheating husband, my daughter will not be able to find her integrity, that he is a sign post of ambivalence.

    I looked up the meaning of ambivalence.

    1. conflict of ideas or attitudes: the presence of two opposing ideas, attitudes, or emotions at the same time
    2. uncertainty: a feeling of uncertainty about something due to a mental conflict
    The coexistence of opposing attitudes or feelings, such as love and hate, toward a person …

    Do you know, I did not know that ambivalence was uncertainty or the coexistence of opposing attitudes.

    I thought ambivalence was more like indifference or a knowing and not caring.

    Ambivalence is exactly what my husband shows, conflicting ideas or attitudes.

    And his ambivalence has me feeling uneasy and even my viewing him in a new light has put me in my own place of ambivalence towards him.

    I no longer am sure of my feelings towards him.

    My ambivalence is showing.

    It seems we feel ambivalent when there are conflicting positions both within him as well as between him and I or visa versa, ambivalence abounds.

    We can’t know how this all ends, for it all depends on what we pick and what we have to compromise on and what is being asked in front of our integrity.

    I believe it is easier to sit with ambivalence, undecided, unknowing, than it is to sit with knowing and not caring.

    I understand the wrestling match that can go on for a long while, for we continually compromise small things in order to get along, but there does seem to come a time when all bets are off, when the relationship is asking too much or we lose too much to maintain that relationship.

    My husband’s experiences in life hasn’t required him to divorce folks who were asking him to chose his innocence over the man who abused him.

    And in fact my learning how to walk away from an abusive family has strengthened my knowing that relationships can cost you your self. And sometimes in order to save yourself, you have to walk away.

    We have lived with much ambivalence in the past 6 years for sure, in fact we learned to not promise love, but I love you today, for we understood that love is an individual and personal thing, and there does come a time, when we part to save ourselves.

    I can’t predict the outcome, but I can see the ambivalence line waving in front of us, the line is there and which side will we pick?

    While my husband sits in ambivalence, I have already chosen my side, and I am not sure what or if I will be asked to compromise or if I will know it is time to go.

    Interesting to know that I am not anxious or wanting to control, but that I am feeling the feelings of ambivalence.

    The feelings of unknowing which way this will go.

    And if our relationship can handle the outcome, but what I do know is that so far I have always been further ahead leaving and maintaining my sense of integrity.

    My ambivalence is he being ambivalent and not choosing sides, but you know, this is his greatest feature, to slide and not chose sides.

    Is that possible to not have to pick?

    To live in ambivalence?

    I used to live there, so I guess it is, until the Universe asks you to choose, you can live in both places, get along with both sides, float over the line unless there are repercussions, no harm is done.

    Maybe he never has to pick.
    Maybe that isn’t his way, but it appears to be mine.

    I am grateful I am no longer lost in ambivalence, I am happy I found a place for me to stand.

  • Save yourself.

    While thinking back upon my journey out of sexual abuse/incest, I wondered what was the one thing that made a difference, what one major item was my cure?

    Cancer has drug treatments and therapies and it seems the body has lots of help to eradicate the diseased cells and again, I wondered about how abuse is similar but completely different.

    It is like we the abused child are the cancerous cells, and we have to leave the tumor.

    There is no treatment for us; it is up to us to save ourselves.

    What other diseases are healed by the sick cell?

    It seem preposterous to know that we are the ones we are counting on and in order to be healed of incest, you must leave the family where it originated, your family of origin.

    So, in order to heal you must go against and away from your family and most often friends.

    We leave the ones who others use to help in times of sickness, they are no available to use, for it is from them that our healing lies.

    I just found this very odd that we the dysfunctional, the broken down and confused are the ones to lead the charge, the ones put in control of our wellness.

    And we have to go against family and friends to achieve this task, the ones who have used and abused us are now there to holler and insult as we make our way away.

    Heading into an unknown land hoping for a new start a new self, a place where we can undo the dysfunction and make us function.

    We need to function to handle our dysfunction.

    Incredible…this self healing healing stuff!

    Which is why the rate of success is so very small. I wish I had the numbers, but I don’t. In my family of 16, including me, two of us so far have managed to stay away from the tumor.

    Two of us are seen as outcasts…and we are, we had to cast ourselves out of the disease, no one but your self can save your self. It is as if you are on fire and you are the fireman.

    This just boggles my mind and I am in complete awe that one as upside down and twisted was able to get myself free.

    I do recall in the beginning how the pull was to go back, to make the tumor benign to make the family whole so that I could be with them….but it soon shown me I was all I could save, each cell is on its own.

    No one is coming to save you, you have to save yourself.

  • Bathed in the Light.

    “A chick pecks its way out of its eggshell and is born into the world when a toxic gas fills up the interior of the egg. At that point, it is literally dying to be born.
    Is there a toxic situation in your life that it’s time to break free of in order to born to the next level of your existence? Is there a symbolic eggshell surrounding you that is time to peck away at, freeing yourself to live more fully?”
    Marianne Williamson

    I love this question and I love the visual it portrays, how we can literally feel like we are suffocating in life and need to start pecking holes in what we are doing.

    And I love “dying to be born”.

    Most changes, at least life altering changes, require a dying in order for there to be a birth, a letting go in order to grab on to something new, a giving up one way before gaining something new.

    Change is a one two step.

    “You have to be willing to let go of who you are, to become who you want to be.” I can’t remember the author of that quote, but Wayne Dyer uses this often.

    The little chick can’t stay in the egg and be born, she has to be willing to get out of her toxic life in order to thrive.

    And the greatest news is that we will know intuitively when the time has come, when we can no longer remain in a relationship, when its toxic energies simply overwhelm and threaten to kill the essence of who we are IF we are to remain inside the shell of that old relationship.

    Like a very brave little chick, we have to go out into a very big and strange land…leaving behind a relationship we have outgrown.

    As the little chick, once we peck our way free of this toxicity, we are free to live a life we can’t even imagine it can be.

    From a small confined limiting space to the wide-open field of pure potential that Rumi speaks about.

    The visual is striking, a dark small space of an eggshell or the expanse that surrounds it.

    Held in the darkness or bathed in the Light.

  • Meant to be.

    Motherhood begins in childhood, and womanhood starts there as well. The essence of who we are as a woman will directly relate to what kind of mother we are.

    There is no separation between woman and mother; the two are one.

    We don’t leave behind who we are as we take on the responsibility of a child, we simply add this to our ongoing relationships that are already in place.

    A child joins your relationships and will emulate them as he begins to create his own, he watches how you treat yourself and how you allow others to treat you, and it is from there that he learns self-care.

    My motherhood path began with me being a valiant co-dependent, a people pleaser and a whore for love and peace, there was very little of my life that was solely for me, most of it I lived for the benefit of others.

    All my decisions and choices were linked to someone’s happiness or love, I made choices based on whether I would lose their approval or not.

    When I stopped seeking approval and instead began living inside out doing what I loved, I began seeing a Me emerge, a separated unique individual, a self.

    As I grew into being more me, I no longer needed others to support me, and it set them all free to be them selves.

    My children were set free when I set myself free.

    My children’s lives returned to them and they too are now free to be what they want to be from the inside out.

    I am there to guide them to show they the lay of the land, but at the end of the day, they get to decide their fate depending upon the choices they make.

    It isn’t my life it is theirs.

    The freedom you give comes with self responsibility and that is what I believe the goal of each parent is, to make them ownership of their lives.

    To raise them to see the consequences from the choices they make, and to allow them to sit in the consequence is the learning of life.

    How we deal with all facets of life is how they learn to deal.

    How authentic we are, how loyal to self we are, where our integrity lies, all will be reflected back to us in our children’s lives.

    Mostly what we fail to notice is that our children’s lives will be lived as we live today, not our potential or what we plan to do, but as we do today.

    To raise independent children, be independent.
    To raise children who love themselves, love yourself.
    Who you are today is the pattern your child will follow, our footsteps are leading them into a life we have.

    We can’t do nothing and hope our children learn from our mistakes, we have to undo our mistakes.

    There are a few, a slight few, changelings of this rule, they are the exceptions not the rule, that will strike out on their own and redefine themselves leaving behind a family, I know this happens for I was one.

    I changed the family legacy by leaving instead of staying in the cycle of abuse/dysfunction and co-dependency; I had to walk out to save my self.
    Time will tell as my young adult children leave our home and set out on their own making choices, was there enough time spent with me to learn a new way of being or were their formative years to tightly ingrained.

    I sit here today aware that the woman who I was and the woman who I became, mothered the same children.

    How this will affect them remains to be seen, what pattern will they follow, how deeply were they affected by their formative years and how much of an impact has my freedom made?

    What I know for sure is that the more I remain honest with myself, the more I love myself, the brighter the second pattern is seen.

    To be the best mother ever is to be the best you can be with your self.

    Loving yourself enough to say no when you mean it.
    Loving you enough to put up boundaries to keep hurt out.
    Loving you to speak your truth always.
    Loving your self as you find your self in this moment, knowing you are a work in progress and be willing to do what it takes in each moment to stand with your self.

    You will then mother a child of strong courage to be who they were meant to be.

  • Cold without a Heart

    “Wherever you go, go with all your heart.”
    ~Confucius

    Going forward with your whole heart is heart breaking, for you are wrenching your heart out from all the people you gave it to.

    What I failed to understand that it isn’t so much as finding new steps, new friends, new routines, new traditions or even getting used to the new me, but rather the yanking and pulling on my heart as I leave.

    For it is impossible to head out ‘half hearted’ and fully embrace life, with pieces of your heart dragging along getting snagged on old memories.

    Even the good old memories feel tainted with fresh paint of recent events, their red marks slashing over familiar “remember when…”

    I saw myself in past Christmases, the gifts made, the parties held, the efforts bestowed, the carols sung, the decorations hung, gathering everything I could to drape a happy Christmas upon so many. It began when I was very little.

    Many holiday memories hold parts where I used to be, for them and for me.

    The years of the oldest shopping for the youngest began when there was just two oldest…and a lot of youngest.

    The years spent making and creating a new ornament for each.

    The years of opening my house, giving of my time, until nothing was left to give.

    My heart emptied itself into them, little by little, child by child, I poured myself into their lives, and now they are all gone.

    It feels that I am ripping my heart to pull it back inside, gathering it from places far and wide, in events, tucked in memories, sewed into projects, knitted into scarves, pulled from lives…

    You can’t take your heart back without ruining the old memories, when you take your heart back; they fall in a discarded heap.

    Heartless.

    The memories turn cold without a heart.

  • United together without abuse.

    “One can be a brother only in something.  Where there is no tie that binds men, men are not united but merely lined up.” 

    ~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

     

    What is the something that binds a family together, what binds sisters to sisters, and brothers to brothers, and sisters to brothers and brothers to sisters?

     

    What ingredient is needed to weld a family together?

     

    Something held us together and something tore us apart, and I want to know what that something is and who was responsible for stealing the something.

     

    We can all get together and be a family lined up as I see it, or as others see it, a united family.

     

    If I were to join the lineup today, I would just be lining up I would not be reunited.

     

    The ‘something’ is missing for me now.

     

    Did I give it away or was it taken from me, or was it even there in the first place, perhaps it was just a total illusion all along.

     

    Maybe all we ever were was a family line up.

    A line up of abused kids.

    We were bound by abuse.

     

    When I stopped standing there in the abuse, when I left and walked away, I broke the bond that held me in place, I left the abuse, I walked out of the lineup.

     

    I was bound there by abuse, by a shared secret, my insides matched their insides, and we were united.

     

    United in a lineup of abuse.

     

    I want to lineup again, but not in abuse.

     

    I want to line up in a real family.

     

    And that is the legacy I am trying to build for my children, so that they have a family that is united together without abuse.