To My Inner Child

I hadn't been able to put into words what I had been feeling all weekend until I read a friend's blog this morning. Thank you, JanePoe, for your amazing insight.

A few days ago someone very special to me acted so out of character and in such a hurtful way. I was just as surprised by my reaction as I was by the person's behavior. First I felt anger, but as always I didn't handle the anger well. When angry I either become mean and totally irrational or I am reduced to tears---this time I was reduced to tears. Or rather, I fled in tears and holed up in my house for the rest of the weekend. I knew instinctively that the tears were coming from that deeply wounded place in my soul, where all the past hurts and humiliations by my father were--I was surprised to find out--still so raw.

In the past when this would happen, I would become so angry at myself and would do such a good job of emotionally beating myself up for being so "weak", but this time I allowed my feelings to just be. I cried like I had not cried in such a long time. I let myself feel the present hurt over this perosn's behavior toward me; but most importantly, I allowed myself to feel the pain over all the unfair treatment and down right meanness I had ever received at the hands of my father. I let the tears flow and the wrenching sobs as well. I cried like I had never been allowed to cry back then. It was so cleansing, as well as so exhausting. I must have slept most of the next day. And the tears have continued off and on since then, so have the feelings, but I decided to dedicate this whole weekend to just letting me feel my feelings, to honor them, acknowledge them, to letting them have the full rein they were denied so many years ago.

So without being conscious of it, I have actually been letting that little girl who has been so emotionally and spiritually damaged finally release some of those imprisioned emotions which have in themselves caused her further harm.

As to the person whose behavior was the catalyst for all of this, that person called me yesterday and apologized and acknowledged my feelings, which helped so much to mend our so precious relationship.

The following poem is for my precious inner child and it is in her language:

Mi nina querida
Eres tan hermosa
Y te quiero tanto.
No meresiste lo que paso
Y siento mucho tu dolor
Pero ahora me tienes a mi
Ahora no estas sola
Y nunca estaras.
Cuando necesites llorar,
llora.
Cuando necesites amparo,
Aqui estoy.
Mi ninita dulce, te amo.

Friendship

I'm questioning myself tonight about what kind of a friend I am. Do I expect too much from people, especially friends? Sometimes I think I do--and when they don't treat me the way I treat them, or are not genuine with me the way I am with them, then I feel so disallusioned by them that I pull back from the friendship. One friend told me recently I want to change people, but I disagree. I don't feel that by telling someone that I feel hurt by what they said or how they said, or by what they did, means I am trying to change them. If they feel they need to change in some way so as to not say again what they said or the way they say it, or not do what they did, in order to remain in relationship with me, then that is their choice to change or not change. I feel I simply expect too much from people and I expect them to treat me the way I treat them and of course that does not always happen because we are all individuals.

One thing that I know I am responsible for and yet don't do is talk about how I feel at the time I feel it. For instance, I usually keep the hurt to myself until I hurt enough and then I eventually say why I feel hurt. And of course many people do not like to be told how their actions or words might have been the cause of hurt feelings. Now, of course I know that people's words or action do not cause the hurt feelings, I choose to let the words or actions affect me that way--but hey, I'm only human. And yet they are only human too so why can't I be as forgiving and understanding of them? I have always been the type of person who owns up to what I do or say, even if it is embarrassing to have to admit or own up to it--whatever "it" may be. But my experience with most people, not all, but most, is that they try to cover up their words or actions by manipulating the situation with words that are not sincere. If someone, no matter how much I felt hurt by them, only owns up to their part and acknowledges my feelings, then I am totally fine and I let the issue go, but I can't let it go if they are not genuine with me, so I simply pull back from the relationship, close as it may have been.

Maybe I am just at a point in my life where I am no longer willing, or able--if I want to stay true to myself, to hold on to friends simply because of the longevity of the relationship. I want real and genuine relationships in my life. I am no longer willing to settle for less. And if that means I have to let go of some relationships--be they with men or woman friends--then so be it.

Aging......it's not so bad after all.

Wow, time goes by so fast! This year my son will be 25 years old. I remember so clearly the day after he was born, holding him in my arms and thinking that when he turned 5, I'd be 30 and when he turned 10, I'd be 35, and on it went in my mind until I came to him being 25 and me 50. Those numbers were so far off in to the future back then and now here they are. I find myself asking the eternal question--where did the time go? Did 25 years really go by already? My baby boy is a man now.

I remember when he was a teenager, how hard it was for us to relate to each other. When he was 14, I think, I found out he was smoking weed--at least that's what I was told by a family member, but he told me years later that he had actually been smoking a cigarette. I asked him why then had he said yes when I asked him if it was true he had been smoking weed. He said because that's what I had wanted to hear at that time. My poor baby. I gave him the 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th degree. I even got him immediately into counseling through a program at school. After a few weeks in to the counseling, the drug and alcohol counselor told me I had nothing to worry about--that he would be fine. She said he was so different from the other kids in the group--that he was about the only one who opened up in group. Without actually telling me what he talked about, she said his sharing in group was so deep and meaningful. She really liked him and even said she would like to meet him again when he was about 25 because he was going to turn out to be a really good and interesting man. And she was so right, he is a good man and he is interesting. He loves people, and making people laugh. When he was about 16 I received an anonymous card and I still don't know who sent it, but it said that I was doing a good job with him because he was turning out to be such a great person. It went on to say that I was doing the job of both a mother and a father (since his father has never been a part of his life) and doing it well. I remember I started crying because I felt the opposite--I felt I was doing a terrible job, but that somehow, despite me he was turning out to be a good person anyway. Now I can accept that I did the best I could with what I knew back then. I think he now feels the same way too.

He's always been so preceptive. I remember too that he asked me once why I was in counseling and I told him because I wanted to break the cycle of abuse and dysfunctionality in our family. I went on to explain to him how abuse and dysfunctionality is passed on from generation to generation. He was about 12 at that time. And now I really do believe the cycle has been broken with him. He is such a good father. I have seen how even when he feels frustrated and impatient with his daughter, he keeps it together and demonstrates such good parenting skills.

So yes, I may be getting older and that age that I could hardly fathom 25 years ago when I held that little human being in my arms is finally here. But I don't mind getting older because I have had the privailage of being his mother and watching him grow and mature. Now I know I may sound biassed, but I really like the person he has become and is becoming.

Family

What is it about some families that makes them so close and others so distant? Mine for instance is certainly not close and that has always made me feel sad. I feel we are all missing so much, but we each have a choice and sadly in order to find that family connection that I so desparately needed, I had to reach out to strangers. Those "strangers" now have become my family. Thank goodness for chosen families! I believe the families that we choose are our real families, at least to those of us who are not fortunate enough to find that family connection within our biological family. A long time ago I remember exploring this issue with a wonderful therapist---she too thought it odd that among my siblings non of us are close to each other (and those one or two how are are certainly not close in a healthy way). She said that in such dysfunctional families--as the one I had been discribing to her in therapy--usually the siblings become so closely bonded because they only have each other to count on. Well, in my family the opposite seemed to happen. I ask myself if part of it has to do with some siblings not wanting anything to do with the past, that being close to each other brings up too many memories or feelings of the life we led back then. I don't know what it is, but I have always longed for closeness with my sisters and I have never had that.

What I have had is wonderful friendships with women. Women who love and appreciate me exactly as I am. Women who find me interesting and inspiring even. And of course, the best relationship of all--my dearest friend/"brother"/mentor A. My whole life changed from the moment I met him. Someone once told me, "Guy men make the best girlfriends." And it is so true--if A were straight we would never have the kind of relationship we are so fortunate to have now. He lifts my Spirit just with his presence.

So yes, I have found and formed my own family, and I feel truely blessed. Although I love my siblings and I know they love me and probably we will continue to have the obilgatory family get-togethers every now and then, we will never really be an emotionally close family not afriad to show that love--and that is a sad loss for all of us.

Be careful what you ask for...

Today I talked with my ex-BF and it feels nice to know that we can still be friends. He is such a good man. It's funny how the Universe answers our prayers exactly as we ask. Years ago before we met I remember coming up with a list of all the qualities, or things, I was looking for in a man. Here's what I can remember from that list:
Honest
Spiritual
Educated
Intelligent
Sensitive
Loving
Kind
Patient
Understanding
Funny
Gentle
Open-minded
Caring
Well read
Bilingual (Spanish & English)
Someone who liked women (I didn't mean hetrosexual, but rather someone who really liked the complexeties of the female psyche)
Good in bed (Wow, he's been the best so far!--and I have had many)

Well, as it turned out he does have all of these qualities, but as the saying goes, "Be careful what you ask for because you might get it." I think what the saying actually means is that you need to ask for exactly what you want because what you ask for is exactly what you will get, and only that--nothing more and nothing less.

What I should have included in that list is the following:

Someone with common sense (more important than intelligence)

Established career

Rich, or at least pretty well off

Goal-oriented

Emotionally stable

Socially adept
Not afriad of commitment

I should have specifically asked for the above list as well because he certainly has all the qualities listed in the first list, but he's lacking all the rest. It's so true what Dr. Slesinger always says, "Love is not enough." I used to think it was. I figured that if he had all the qualities on the first list, then everything else would work out--even if he did not have the money, the career, etc. But I finally had to realize and accept that if those other things are missing there are bound to be problems in the relationship. Despite the goodness of his soul, I had to let go of the hope that he would eventually pull his life together and we could have a "normal life". But either he can't or he won't, whichever it is it's not going to happen. And then you add to that my issues around anger, the fact that we are both recovering alcoholics, and that we both come from such dysfuntional families--well, no wonder we couldn't make it. But the important thing is we are still friends. He will always be someone special in my life.

More on Freedom

I've been thinking all day about last night's post. What I wrote about my father. I hadn't thought about that for years, or him for that matter. Well, maybe not years for him, but certainly months and months will go by and I don't even remember that he is still here, in this world--most likely still abusing another family. Those words he said to me had such an impact. They shaped the kind of woman I would be. There's a certain strength in that because I don't let anyone abuse me, but mostly the impact has been negative. I remember my reaction--inner, of course because it wasn't safe to let my reaction show. I felt such rage. I remember vowing to him in my mind that I would let no one treat me that way, that if anything I would be the one doing the hitting. And that has been the cause of most of the problems in my relationships--or course, how would anyone want to stick around being abused. I remember thinking many times in my last relationship that if I were him I would leave me in a minute. And it's not an excuse, and it certainly doesn't make it any better, but I only get abusive when I feel hurt, lied to, or if I preceive being made of fool of in any way. The abuse is mainly verbal and emotional, but in the past it was physical. I hate being that way. I heard Oprah today on her show talking to a young woman, telling her what Oprah strongly believes in, "When you know better, you do better." Well, I know better now so why am I still abusive in relationships? Why do I feel that the only way I will get heard is by showing rage? A few weeks ago my best friend said he sees a change in me, that I don't seem as angry at the world as before. That really threw me for a loop because I guess I always knew in the back of my head that I am a very angry person, but when he put it into words I felt jolted into awareness and it was not a comfortable feeling. I want to let go of that anger. I keep reminding myself I am not there anymore, that I am not under my father's control anymore. I said in last night's post that I am proud of myself for proving him wrong. Yeah, I certainly am not living the oppressed and abused life he wanted for me, but I am still under his control if I let his words still affect me to the point that now I hurt people with my anger--like he did. That's why I am always afraid to get into a relationship, because I know that's when my anger rises to the surface for any little, or big, offence from the other person--but at the same time I want a relationship. I just don't know how to be in a healthy one. I don't know why I am writing about this, but I feel that I need to because I don't want to hide it anymore. I don't want to leave it in the back of my head and not talk about it. I want to expose it and not feel ashamed about it. My anger is part of me--it served me well and helped me cope for so many years when that was the only way I could survive--but it is time to lay it to rest, not completely because anger is necessary--healthy anger, that is--that I need to keep and know when and how to make it useful in my life. But that old anger born on that night when my father said those words to me--that is the anger that needs to be released--it is no longer needed. Then, and only then, will I be completely free.

Solitude, Marc Anthony & Freedom

Tonight I feel good about living alone. Sometimes it's not easy living alone, especially in a big house. Sometimes I wish I had someone to share it with, but not tonight. Tonight I am enjoying my solitude. I have the whole house to myself--it's my own space, my santuary. I am listening to Marc Anthony. Although I am not too crazy about him anymore (too much of a womanizer, I feel--but then again, he seems to be faithful to JLo), I'm totally in love with his music. I love his voice, the lyrics, and especially when he sings in Spanish. It sounds so hot. I would love to see him perform. I hear he is one hell of a performer.

Anyway, back to living alone---I was thinking how fortunate I am to own my own life. To be free to make my own decisions without having to answer to anyone. Growing up I never could have dreamt I would be living this life. I remember my father once told me he had to treat me mean so I would get used to it because I would be treated like that when I got married. In fact, he said, I would even be hit. The sadder thing was that he said it as if he wished that for me. I have had my share of relationships, unfortunately the majority of them with troubled, deeply wounded men, but never violent nor abusive. I am so proud of myself for proving my father wrong, for not believing I deserved what he wanted for me. I have created a life for myself free of chaos, violence, fear. I am in control of my life. Freedom! There is nothing in this world better for the soul than that and I feel blessed.

My Promise to Me

Well, I just got back from my belly dance class--and it was great!! I was going to say that I finally took a step toward reclaiming my body, but I just realized something--I have never really owned my body. Or rather I have never felt integrated with my body. Up tuntil the last few years of my life it has always been something to hide. Something totally apart from me. Even as a little girl I was so self-conscious of my body, always comparing it to other girls, and always finding it lacking. A wise woman I know wrote a few weeks ago that we should love the skin we're in because it's the only one we have. And she is right. I have been blessed with this body that has served me so well until now, and I hope it continues to serve me well until the end. But it can only do that if I take care of it. Belly dance for me is one way to do that. I just love the movements. I am totally mesmorized when I see belly dancers perform, but I have never allowed myself to stick with it long enough so that I too can move my body so fluidly and gracefully. I realize tonight that it's been mostly due to the erroneous feelings I have had about my body. This time I have made a promise to myself--I will continue until I can be good enough to perform someday. That will be the ultimate tribute I can pay to this wonderful, faithful body that my Spirit chose to help it continue in it's evolution and journey toward Wholeness.