I M Perfect lady

Tag: making

  • Help not Hurt

    “The question is not, “Can you make a difference?” You already do make a difference.  It’s just a matter of what kind of difference you want to make during your life on this planet.”  Julia Butterfly Hill

    I hadn’t considered that we are all making a difference; it just may not be the kind of difference that will impact another’s life in a positive manner.

    For each thing we do or even what we don’t do matters to someone.

    Just how or who it helps is the difference.

    While taking actions to speak the truth about abuse I am making a difference. And what kind of difference it will make in the lives of pedophiles will be different than how it will affect the lives of children.

    In the past my silence made a difference…it allowed my father to continue abusing. 

    Giving my report of my childhood which lacked memories or odd memories standing out, and how my body feared him, helped bring him to the court of the land.

    My viewpoint of him made a difference, albeit 40 years after the crime.  My report validated the little girl’s experience six years ago…together our stories made a difference to each other.

    The Detective shared with me that he honors and truly understands anonymous reports, how it may be hard for victims to stand tall and share their story.  I get it now too.

    My view of anonymous changed. 

    Anonymous reporting of abuse is vastly different than anonymous attacks.  Both make a difference in completely different ways. 

    Anonymously helping feels so much better than anonymously attacking. 

    There is room for anonymous when it’s used to help not hurt.

     

     

  • My own Little Plot

    It is hard to believe that I lived a life without a self that I had disappeared from my life and had not even noticed it, for I left my life before I had a life.

     

    Without knowing I got a life of my own, I spent all my time in other people’s business, leaving my own life quite vacant.

     

    I simply didn’t live a separated life.

     

    The biggest part of myself was lived in the midst of other people’s world, what I meant to them, how I made them feel, I was an interchangeable part to them.

     

    I was a piece of them.

     

    When I latched on to a person who needed me, I came alive.

     

    Set me alone…I had no value.

     

    Having zero value by myself left me very much dependent upon others, hence the word co-dependent, for my sense of self.

     

    Finding a self that stood alone was near impossible.

    I had no definition if the words sister, mother, daughter, wife, friend were not around.

     

    Who was I to myself?

     

    I wasn’t as good a friend to me as I was to my friends, nor did I mother myself as wonderful as I tried to mother my children, nor was a good partner to myself as I was to my husband.

     

    In the end all my efforts outside of myself left me completely empty…for I ignored my self while taking care of others.

     

    Imagine 46 years with nothing to show for my self.

     

    My self had lived silently still while I toiled in people’s lives.

     

    It is like weeding and tending a garden that you are unable to eat from, leaving you starving while they enjoy the crop you took care of.

     

    Slaving over their fields while my own was over run from neglect.

     

    What freedom came when I understood we are all gardeners of our own lives, that each of us can plant the kinds of things we love, and pull up and out the things that prick us.

     

    I love my life now that I see it as my own little plot!