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Category Archives: fear

Sometimes, it’s the little things

Sitting at a cafe, trying to stay warm, I think about all kinds of stuff.
One thing I’m thinking of today… Before I left the States, someone said, “I hope you find what you’re looking for out there.”

It’s weird.  Maybe, I’m weird.  But, I’m not looking for anything out here, except what is out here.  I just want to be part of the world.

It’s weird, I suppose, because I have met quite a few expats running from things, running to things, looking for something or someone, trying to forget someone or something.  But, I’m not.  I didn’t set out here to find anything, not even myself.  I had already found myself before leaving the States the very first time.

I just want to see the world.  Plain and simple.  I didn’t know how I was going to do it, for a long time.  But, I’ve wanted to see the world since I was a little girl.  I dreamed of visiting sites I learned about in History classes or read about in magazines.  Traveling has been a dream for as long as I can remember.

And I finally found a viable way to do it.  A way that makes me happy.  A way that helps me feel like I’m contributing to the world I want to see and be part of.  Teaching.  I love teaching.  I love traveling.  Therefore, I completely love my life.

Are there people that don’t get it?  Sure.  Of course.  That’s ok.  They don’t have to get it.  It’s my life, and I completely get it, so they don’t need to.

There are a few who are worried for me.  Some that think I’m crazy.  There are even a few that are mad at me because I have chosen to live the way I’ve always wanted to.  Frankly, I say, that’s on them.

It’s the little, every day moments that I love out here.  It’s the smile on the barista’s face when she sees me because she gets to practice her English when I order.  It’s the drive through a little village and seeing the people driving a few head of cattle across the street with motorcycles and cars trying to go around.  It’s looking up at beautiful mountains dusted in snow.  It’s seeing a Chinese man walk across the street and feel pangs of missing a place I called home for a while.  It’s the little things that make me feel part of the Global community that keep me loving it so much.

I know a few people who have goals to see x amount of places before such and such a time, or step foot on every continent, or other really awesome goals.  My goal from day one, has been to teach around the world, so that I can be part of it.  I want to learn from it.

I am learning from the world.  I am teaching in the world.  I am being in the world.  I am happy.

Recently I’ve told a couple people a bit of my life stories.  It used to make me sad afterwards.  But one incredibly great thing that came from the ugliness of my time on Ilha, is that I can truly feel my own strength.  I have been through the baseness that mankind has to offer and not let it harden me.  I have learned how to be a better, stronger, kinder, more understanding and compassionate person because of what I’ve been through.  That’s apparently a lot more rare than I understood before.

I’m freaking proud of me.

One of my students asked me yesterday if there was anything I would change if I could go back in time.  I didn’t even hesitate to say no.  I like who I am and I wouldn’t be the me I am, if it weren’t for the things that shaped me into me.  So, no, I wouldn’t change anything.

Do I wish that I could have learned a few life lessons without the pain? Sure, but both are necessary to recognize either, so……  I’ll be happy just being the me I am, with the stories I have.

Mostly, I tell my stories in order to let it not hurt me any more.  But I also tell them because I hope other people can learn from them without having to actually experience them.  I started traveling again so soon because I didn’t want to let fear get the upper hand.  The longer I held off, the harder it was becoming to believe I could again.  SO, I told fear to fuck off.

And here I am.

Walking around a beautiful city every day.  Teaching amazing students from all over the world.  Working with supportive, caring people.  Making friends with other amazing teachers.  Sitting at cafe’s and pondering the little things that make my life happy.

My peace is tangible.  My joy surrounds me like a beautiful sparkly cloud of awesome.  I am happy just being out here in the world.  I’m not looking for anything; every day brings me something new to wonder at.

#Lovelife.  #Noregrets.  #TeachPeace.  #Notallwhowanderarelost

 

 

 

Understanding how deep we are invested into the abusive cycles.

Understanding how deep we are invested into the abusive cycles.

Once upon a time I loved Elvis Presley.  My parents played his music all the time.  I knew every hit song by heart.  My sisters and brother and I would swing dance in the living room to Elvis and lots of other oldies.  His musical movies were a highlight to my not so light childhood.

Fast forward through troubled early teens and into an abusive marriage and through to finally getting divorced.  On the upside of that fast forward, I was lucky enough to have been a full-time at home mother to my three amazing children.

So those first few years of their spending every other weekend away from me, were exceptionally difficult.  Not just because they were the first times in their lives I’d ever been apart from them for more than a school day, but also because I knew they were spending the weekend with a man I had divorced because of his violent, manipulative, controlling and harmful behaviors.

I can’t even describe the first weekend.  But I made a plan, of sorts, for the next few.  And one of those included going to my childhood happy place and watching an Elvis marathon.  I rented every Elvis movie at the Blockbuster down the road.  Yes, back in 2002 Blockbuster was still open.

I made popcorn.  I got Twizzlers.  I was set to get through a weekend in a happy place that ignored the real world and existed in song, dance, and “the good ‘ol days”.

And then I started watching and what caught my eye, even back then when the self-loving person was just being formed.  When I was barely learning how to see abuse for abuse, I stopped watching after the 4th movie. I had seen Elvis hit a girl in every one and couldn’t handle that reality.

Here I was finally learning it wasn’t ok to BE in a situation where daily concern for what would happen was normal.  I was finally learning how to stand up for myself and not accept abusive behaviors.  And I here in my happy place, I was seeing that it was in fact ok and accepted by one of my childhood idols.

In my last post a fellow blogger and Elvis lover mentioned that he does not hit a girl in every one of his movies.  At first I was going to re-watch them and check for myself, to make sure, because I did make a blanket statement.

However, I feel that even if he doesn’t hit a girl in every single movie, which I will easily admit I may have exaggerated with saying every single one, the comments on the blog I feel prove my point better than describing the movies.

This is in NO way a personal note.  This blogger’s comments represent the ideology I was addressing in the last post, the idea that we are all in on this brain washed, brain washing dance of abusive cycles.

It’s not her, but she helps illuminate how we’re caught up, how often we don’t recognize the beginnings, the first ways that we are taught how to be victims and that violence is acceptable.

So please, be understanding and know that I am not using the comments in a personal way, but in a so many people think this way she just happened to be the one that said it, it’s not about her it’s about what the comments represent generically.

“….he only hits ronnie to try to revive……The Trouble with Girls is to sober Sheree North up –

and he also disiplne spanks a girl in Blue Hawaii and threatens a spanking in Fun in Acapulco –

it’s the response to girls too young and otherwise, it’d the girl actying hysterical….”

Part of  me is crying on the inside because I know that I used to believe that there were acceptable forms of violence as well.  It has been one of the most difficult processes within myself to see how deeply I have been invested into abusive cycles.  It is overwhelming to see how deep we are all invested in them.

I am also very lucky to have been in many more non-violent situations than violent ones, as an adult.

Because of that luck I can say with full knowledge that there is NO reason to revive, sober up, or discipline a girl with violence.

I have passed out from drinking too much and been revived without a single hit or smack to any part of my body.  I was revived with gentle hands pushing hair out of my face, a glass of water to my lips and requests to drink.  I was revived with a helping shoulder to get me to stand up.

I had a seizure in Mozambique when I got Typhoid Fever.  I was not revived with any form of violence, not even a shout.  I came to with people around me worriedly saying my name, holding my head, and basically protecting me.

I have had multiple panic attacks since my attack/ assault in Mozambique.  None of which were met with a smack to calm me down.  In fact, I think I would have completely lost my mind if someone had smacked me at that point.  And not in the mental institution way.  People spoke calmly to me, helped me get my breathing under control through their words and their own breathing.  They sat beside or spoke with me on the phone.  No one even hinted at thinking about smacking me, even when I seemed completely hysterical.

And, unless you are playing out an agreed upon sexual role play fantasy, there is absolutely NO time it’s ok to spank, (even if I was ok with spanking small children), a full grown girl because you think she’s misbehaving.  It is violence meant to assert dominance and superiority.

I don’t need to watch any more Elvis movies to show that they did their work.

The idea that there are acceptable times and forms of violence against women continues to be imbedded into our generation.  Spanking, hitting, smacking are all ways to hurt, intimidate, remind of “place”, and dominate.  None of them are ok.

They are not even ok with children.  We are not our children’s dominators – we are their teachers.  We shouldn’t try to control their actions and commit them to submission to what we think is right for them.  We need to teach them to discern what is right for themselves and how to think through situations to make their own conscious decisions for their behaviors.  They are not our property, we are their mentors.  We are how they learn to adult.

Hitting children teaches distrust and fear.  It also teaches them to believe there are acceptable forms of violence.

The beginnings of the cycle are difficult to discern because it’s a circle, it’s the chicken and the egg.   But the only way to stop it, is to see it.  We, as a society, are so very deeply rooted in these cycles that it’s extraordinarily difficult to see the pattern.

SO I ask you to rethink the answer to the question:

Why did the chicken cross the road?

So she didn’t get eaten.

That chicken finally realized that no matter the amount of feed, hay, barnyard fun with the rooster, or whatever else made its life the norm it knew; that chicken finally realized at the end of the day it was going to get eaten, so it left.

Elvis, is not to blame for the violence in his movies.  He didn’t write them, he only acted and sang in them.  And, he is also a product of the ideology that violence against ‘people seen as less than you’ is acceptable.

We all have the moments when we feel that someone is less than we are.  We are taught to.  If we hadn’t been taught to for generations, there would be no reason to have to bring awareness to the rights of others.

We have to bring these awarenesses because, through White Privilege, we have been socially conditioned to believe that any one not a white, affluent, heterosexual, Christian male belongs in a hierarchy of ‘LESS THAN’s’.

We have to bring awareness to minority rights, women’s rights, LGBT rights, etc because we are ‘the less than’s’.  Through standard Divide and Conquer practices, all the ‘less than’s’ are fighting separately and therefore remain less than.

And we all subscribe to it.

Minority women and non-minority women are fighting over whose women’s rights are more valid to fight for.  Though the LGBT community stands together on some fights there are still the lesbian activists that are anti-man, gay or not.  There are gay people who are racist and black women against immigration rights; the list goes on and on.  One of my very good friends fights hard for LGBT rights, but still thinks the Confederate flag, a symbol for fighting against the US government in order to maintain slavery, should fly proudly – because that’s what he was raised with.

If the Confederate flag had represented fighting the US government to maintain enslaving anyone identifying as gay, he would think differently about that flag.  But the divide and conquer approach works really well.

We remain glued to what we’ve been taught, right or wrong, even while trying to fight for our own power back.  Our need for habit and creature comfort keep us in the cycle, keep us from seeing the cycle, keep us divided, and keep us abusing and victimizing each other.

Violence is one major part of the abuses that keep the ‘less than’s’ subdued, controllable, and less than.

We, all of us, have to see abuse as abuse and stop it.  We have to see all forms of violence as abuse, and stop it.

There are no acceptable forms of violence.

No one is above consequence for violence.

No one deserves to live in fear.

No one deserves violence in their lives.

What do you think?

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Our parents generation was perfectly fine with domestic violence, why can’t we be?

Welcome to the Rodeo.

It’s a hum-dinger of a ride.

(It’s taking a few turns through sarcasm-ville too, so have fun.)

Smug isn't he?

Smug isn’t he?

Did you know that Elvis Presley hits a girl in every single movie he’s I’ve seen him in? 

He does. 

Wanna talk about influence over a generation?  Elvis was IT.  He set the standard.  “It’s ok to hit women” was displayed across every drive-in and movie theater from 1956 to 1977.

thUFWHUG0K

Did you know that The Beatles had a popular song about killing a girl over jealousy?

They do.

“Run For Your Life”

Well I’d rather see you dead, little girl
Than to be with another man
You better keep your head, little girl
Or ya won’t know where I am
You better run for your life if you can, little girl
Hide your head in the sand little girl
Catch you with another man
That’s the end ah little girl
Well I know that I’m a wicked guy
And I was born with a jealous mind
And I can’t spend my whole life
Trying just to make you toe the lineYou better run for your life if you can, little girl
Hide your head in the sand little girl
Catch you with another man
That’s the end ah little girlLet this be a sermon
I mean everything I’ve said
Baby, I’m determined
And I’d rather see you deadYou better run for your life if you can, little girl
Hide your head in the sand little girl
Catch you with another man
That’s the end ah little girlI’d rather see you dead, little girl
Than to be with another man
You better keep your head, little girl
Or you won’t know where I amYou better run for your life if you can, little girl
Hide your head in the sand little girl
Catch you with another man
That’s the end ah little girl
Nah nah nah
Nah nah nah
Nah nah nahAnd Audrey Hepburn? thNFNKKRR1

Breakfast at Tiffany’s opening scene has a guy banging on her door in anger that she won’t let him because he “has rights” after paying for her dinner.

Her not letting him in -is the wrong, not his banging on her door expecting his “rights”, so she hides by going out of her window instead of telling him to go away.  And it just continues from there.

Really, this list goes on and on.  Watch any soap opera and you have a prime seats to the Victim Rodeo.

And now the tides are turning back again.

What happened to the strong, independent women songs?  Beyoncé got married, so now we all need to get back to domesticated bliss? There’s a whole new onslaught of I’ll cook for you, clean for you, you’re the strong one, give me lots of bling and I’ll do whatever you want, please make all my decisions for me, songs. Pop music is back at the effective conditioning of us all to “remember our places”.

It used to be that a guy could say, “Trust me” to get a girl, but we’ve learned haven’t we?

It’s a joke now,

“Trust me”.

Trustme

The abusers have learned too.  Now, the abusers wait to hear you say, “I trust you”, to them.  They play the roping game until they hear those words.

trust

Oh, they believe you alright.

BUT, because they know they are not trustworthy, their first thought on hearing you say you trust them is,

“You’re an idiot“.

And you can’t ever change that.

From that point on you are an idiot to them and they have every right in their mind to treat you badly, because that’s how one treats idiots, right?

I mean, who can deny it?  Sure, sure, sure, you can say that’s not the case, we all know the right words we’re supposed to say, PC and all, right?      Nobody should treat idiots badly.  Idiots are people too.

But it’s not real life.  In real life, ie, in songs, soap operas, television, movies, the ways we see and hear life told to us, repeatedly, throughout our lives, for generations, that must be how it’s done.  So, if you’re an idiot (ie a girl), that trusts me( an abuser), then you deserve whatever happens to you.  Case closed.

And we all go along for the ride.

If she’s such an idiot girl that trusted that guy, then she deserves what happened.  If she stays with him, she deserves it.  Why is she with him, she’s an idiot.  Why didn’t she leave him after the first time? What an idiot. She should have been more careful, so idiotic, she deserves what happened.  She’s such an idiot, who does that anymore?

Those are the victim blaming thoughts we’ve been conditioned to think.

And along with those, come’s the Victim Rodeo dance – where the abuser is really the victim and all the while they’re hog-tieing you, you’re apologizing for their hitting their knees too hard on the dirt around you because you were so confused with all the hoopin’ and hollerin’ and clown antics meant to trick you, you forgot to soften the ground for them.

Because they are masters of turning everything around.

Because they don’t care about anything except not having consequences.

Because controlling you is more important than reality.

Because they know the more you try to control them, the deeper their mind fuck is working.

Mass murderers? Rapists?  Abusers? Oh no, VICTIMS.  They are the abused, why else would they shoot up a whole school/office/theater?  They are victims. Why else would they throw a girl around a room and choke her?  They are the victims.

They don’t need jail, they just need some medication and a good counselor to work through their childhood issues.

If your first thought isn’t directed at the abuser, you are victim-blaming.  If your next thoughts aren’t for helping the victim, you are victim blaming.  If you are victim blaming, don’t worry, you’re not alone.  Even victim’s victim blame.

Workin’ At The Brain Wash, sing it with me!

What most people don’t understand is the amount of brain-washing and conditioning that goes into creating victims.  And how we are all part of the process.  Yes, ALL of us.  We are all working at the Brain Wash and we are singin’ it with feeling.

objectify much?

Victims in abusive situations don’t leave right away, because there are so many colorful locks, laces, and latches put in place before the situation becomes so black and white to everyone else.

A victim’s sense of control in their lives has been systematically stripped away and replaced with confusion, lack of trust in themselves, isolation, and a distorted sense of what will happen to them without the abuser.

Abusers play on fantasies and fears.

Even though I had a round-trip ticket from Turkey to Mozambique, when the time came to use my ticket back to Turkey, I was reminded that I would get thrown in jail without my passport if I left the island.  I was told it would cost too much to get me to the city.  I was told that going to the city on my own, I would probably be raped, stolen, or both.  It was only safe for me to stay with him.  Everything about my finding a way to leave was distorted and my fears played upon in order to control where I was and what I was doing.

I got the fantasy of island life, a good peaceful job with the ability to “rest” while looking for work for the next school year.  And once there, I got all the worst fears of a woman travelling alone thrown at me; I was only safe while under his protection.  And, because of my prior conditioning, I thought I could make the best of the situation and still get myself on my own two feet.  I was doing many things to keep myself safe, while in a very unsafe situation, that I thought was, AND SHOULD HAVE BEEN, a safe situation.

Ya can’t control someone else to get your own control back.

Victims often try to reclaim their control by “controlling” the abusers.  Oh yes, the distorted idea that we can control the emotional healing of our abuser *cough* I mean victimized partner, we can love them into being better people.  We can show them how good it feels to be treated well, then they will know how to treat us well.  They were never shown how it can be to feel loved, so if I love them better, then they will see and it will all be back to the fairy tale they showed me at the beginning. Yep, I’m totally Disney princess style rolling my head with a sugared smile plastered across my face as my dream-filled eyes watch the screen while I type.Enchanted

Because that’s they way we victims are taught to think.  That’s what is put on repeat in our life soundtrack and movie script.  You know you just thought of at least one movie and two songs where that very thing happens.

When I was married, the level of the victim-rodeo dance was amazing.  Even now I am starting to see many of the ways that he made it look like one thing was happening – to everyone else- while making me feel like something else entirely was happening, I hadn’t seen before.

He still does that to our children.  He still makes everything appear how he wants in order to control the way they do things or feel the way he wants them to.  He uses money and “love” to manipulate them.  Sadly, they are learning those trade tools as well.

Survivor 2

Even we, the survivors, the mighty among the victims, the ones who are making great leaps and strides in our ability to reclaim our power and control while allowing the rest of the world to maintain their own, (yes, a little power hype there, I deserve it)

Even we are still caught in the thick blanket of perceptual lies that abusers have been piling on society for millennia.

Our parents generation seems to have not just merely accepted, but been perfectly fine with domestic violence.  Why can’t we be?

Because we actually can reach more people, we can have a louder voice, we don’t have to be divided and conquered, we’re the ants to the grasshoppers,

We have laws and the ability to have global laws that protect and

We know that ALL people should LIVE A LIFE FREE FROM VIOLENCE.

thRU28G03O thSS68L1U4 thZ3UN32PR

What do you think?

 

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A difficult but necessary conversation with my dad: Red Flag *Consent

A difficult but necessary conversation with my dad: Red Flag *Consent

As the first few weeks of living in Montana unfolded, I was seemingly teleported back in time to my childhood.  It really was as if grown up-me was in a dream  watching child-me go through the day-to-day of living with my father.  He and his wife are raising her granddaughter.  I really am sitting back and observing day-to-day, moment-to-moment foundational occurrences in this girls life, that were part of my childhood, and being fully aware of how it has impacted my life, specifically in my tendencies towards abusers.

I am, and will always be, grateful for the fact that my father has been a willing listener and participant in these conversations since I’ve been here.  He has listened to me bluntly, honestly open up about how I feel about  what I’m seeing.  Neither of us have been perfect at these conversations, but we are both giving our best effort to have them, and keep a positive relationship with each other.  If he weren’t being so amazing at taking in, thinking about, and accepting what we’re discussing, I would not be healing as quickly as I am.

A Conversation about CONSENT

We were in the kitchen, M and I.  He had walked by us three times, going back and forth to get something he needed.  Each time he walked by he touched her, touched her shoulder, poked her side, patted her butt.  It was routine.  It’s what he does.

He thinks he’s showing endearment; he doesn’t mean anything by it.  He doesn’t understand, I tell myself.

But I remember the same thing happening to me.  I remember being young and all the little pokes, the little rubs, the playful pats.  I remember the duality of not wanting to be poked all the time and missing the pokes when he was upset with me.  I remember feeling that it was an endearment; it was how he showed me he cared.  And he’s my dad, I want him to care.

Everything we learn about society is built up from what we learn at home first.  How we interact with the world outside the home is a version of what we’ve learned about how to interact at all.

I asked my dad, “If you had a magic lens and you could see into M’s day at school, and there was a teacher or another student that touched M every time he walked by her, innocently enough, nothing overtly sexual, would you be ok with that?”

He quickly sat up, offended, “No, that’s not ok.”

So I looked at him and I reminded him of how he did exactly that same thing to her, every day.  I could clearly see the confusion on his face.

Without realizing, he is teaching her/ taught me that men can touch her/me without her/my consent; that it is endearing to have someone touch without asking first.  We were taught to ignore or not pay direct attention to the fact that our body was not our own to decide what happened to it.  We, being children, were property, he being the patriarch was in charge.  And seemingly without intention, he put himself in charge of our bodies as well.  (We, being girls, would later also be socially inundated with objectification to tack on to the back of being raised as property.)

Our fathers are our first interactions with men.  That relationship helps us learn what to expect of ourselves and others in our future.

I learned not to pay attention to being touched by boys/ men.   And that lack of response is a test abusers use.  It’s a red flag test I blew through time after time.

As hormones hit and life becomes the erratic whirl of our teens, we all begin trying to figure out the differences and similarities between love, sex, and all the chaos in between.  What was endearment touches are now possible love touches by others.  And don’t we all know that, in our teens, each and every love is our eternal soulmate and each loss is devastating beyond measure.  Our need/ desire for physical contact is all mixed up with our need/ desire for the goal of our own partner.  Then add in all the unhealthy, abusive ways we are shown to expect from one another.  How are we supposed to come out of that and into adulthood with a healthy understanding of how to be in a relationship?

If we don’t know how to be asked consent, how to expect to be asked consent, how to ask for consent, how are we supposed to all of a sudden, in the midst of new mature physical bodies with hormones running amuck, start expecting and understanding consent?  Yes, this goes for boys too.

“So”, my dad asked, “then what do I do”?

You ask for consent to touch her.  Teach her how to listen for it.  Teach her to expect it.  Set the example for boys/ men to follow your lead.

“Hey, can I have a hug?”,  “Fist bump”, “Come here, I wanna tickle ya”

Anything, but something verbal that announces to her (him) that you want to engage in healthy, acceptable, endearing physical contact and gives her (him) the chance to disagree or agree.  It should become natural habit, not forced, example

“Awww, can I have a hug”, vs. “M, is it ok if I give you a hug?”

IMPORTANT * Accept the response.  If she says no, don’t coerce her, make her feel bad, do it anyway, or anything else except not do whatever it was you announced wanting to do.  Without any negativity, show her that her no is accepted.  Teach her see the response you want her to expect from others in her future.

Also, don’t withhold physical intimacy.  Children need that physical assurance of your love.  Just make sure it’s appropriate, healthy, and asked for.

Here is where my dad is starting to struggle.  But, that’s normal I think, for this new into an understanding.  He’s having to work through a lifetime of being “the boss” at home.  Letting someone else be in charge of their own bodies means he’s not in charge.  He’s staying “in charge” by not doing anything while he works through the massive change that knowing brings.

I think this is one of the Let Go and Let God type of understandings.  But no change is easy, comes right away, or perfectly.  It’s a process.

Consent for sexual touch has to begin with consent for any physical touch.  Each step along the way, from innocently holding hands, to knowingly going through a sexual act, consent needs to be asked for and given.  There is no point, in any relationship, that you should touch another person without their consent.

Certainly consent is given a kind of implied sense within a romantic relationship, but there should always still be the ability to show or say, “not right now” and have it be accepted, whether it’s a hug, touching the shoulder, or sex.

As I type this, and maybe as you read this, you’ll think, “That seems pretty obvious to me.”, but I’ve been talking through this with other people, and you’d be surprised how many looked at me with the same confusion my dad had and said, “I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

We learn how to interact with the world in our families.  We build our understanding of what is acceptable or not, behaviors to look for or ignore, with those earliest moments.  Everything we do as parents affects long-term, especially if it is a pattern.  We are creatures of habit.  We like the comfortable and used-to things.  We migrate towards people that make us feel secure in our patterns.

We need to look at the patterns we teach our children about consent while they’re young, before we send them out into the world and expect them to just know.

I sent my kidittos out with mixed messages.  The more I learn about the patterns I didn’t see, the more I see how many patterns I passed on in ignorance.  But I also see the many ways I did better than I thought I had.  Parenting is rough business sometimes.  We don’t get a handbook.  I wasn’t being parented through my teens, and I was practically a parent through my pre-teens because I had to basically raise my siblings, so I was mostly able to parent my kidittos without preconceived ideas of how to do it.  That was good and bad.

What I taught them through my words to them, my actions to them, was good, but they were counter-balanced by what I taught them through my actions with their dad and to myself in that relationship and the others I had post divorce.  They saw my words for them and my actions for myself being juxtaposed and incongruent.

I learned what to do to get out of, but not what to do to not get into an abusive relationship.  That’s got to mess with their heads a little.  It messes with mine.

For me the good news is, that no matter what age, if we talk to our children about what we see from our past, we can help the future.  I talk to my kidditos about my relationships because I want them to be “informed consumers”.  That’s not the best term, but it gets the concept across.  As I have walked through life, so many of the relationship mistakes I’ve made have been because I didn’t know any better at the time.  Having more information will help them make better decisions in the relationships they have in the future, I hope.

Fighting through the fear of talking to my dad about these relationship issues has been difficult.  This was only one conversation, one red flag.  But I think it’s a big one.  Pushing through that fear and actually having the conversation was tremendously validating and healing.

What are your thoughts on this?

 

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