Healing Isn’t Linear, Neither Is Parenting

When I was little, I wanted to be a parent so that I could be in charge. I wanted to call the shots and have these little humans obey me. I knew I didn’t want to be the kind of parent who used corporal punishment because of the way it made me feel. The shame that came with each discipline made me feel less than. No, that wasn’t for me.

Fast forward to now, three kids I’m healing from the effects of feeling like I will never be enough. That I always need to fit in a mold of perfection that will never exist. Healing requires research and patience. It requires training a brain that is solidified in its way of living. It’s exhausting. I’m constantly digging up the cemented mindset of my inner child and defending the past like I owe it something.

Healing isn’t linear. Throughout, my time as a parent I’m learning daily that just because I have more information doesn’t make me a better parent. My outlook constantly plays a part into the kind of person my childrend get as a mother. I have thoughts that plague me like the thorns of a rose. There are dogmas that are invisible to the naked eye that pound my head and bring me to a halt. My girls don’t get to see this. They see a woman who is confident. What they don’t see is a woman who is literally parenting herself at the same time as she is parenting her own.

Healing isn’t linear. It’s a complex derivative of various algorithms with theoretical formulas that require a tremendous effort to employ. I know better so I should do better. But the truth is I’m putting my trust in a method I haven’t seen nor experienced for myself while catching and healing the wounds of my past in hopes that my girls don’t see this grown woman tripping over the bloods from the open wounds of her past.

How I wish I could tell my younger self that she is allowed to dream. She is allowed to travel and experience different elements of what makes the world beautiful. She is allowed to go after the expensive shoes because they are investment into her joy life bucket. She is not too much and that most importantly that she is a good and kind person worthy of being loved for the being she is…but I can only tell the millenial woman staring at me in the mirror these things.

Healing isn’t linear. Some days I feel great. Today my daughter pooped in the toilet. This has been an issue for a while now. She will pee but refuses to acknowledge the toilet to poop. But today she did it. I felt like a rockstar. I didn’t get mad. I didn’t yell at her. She did it. I was a proud mama.

Some days my girls wow me. My eldest understands and knows basic grade 1 arithmetic and she just turned 5. She can read and spell most words. She’s currently learning to skateboard and has inspired me to do the same.

Healing isn’t linear. My 8 month old has learned to stand on her own. She’s been practicing her pincer muscle and can now hold, grab and eat her own puffs. She does

Overcoming Childhood Hurts

Hi there! Thank you so much for checking my blog.In all honesty, I’m grateful that you are here. I’m hoping that this post will help you in some way shape or form. Although I can not change my past (or yours), I choose to share my story in hopes to help anybody else who’s been through something similar or has experience some form of childhood hurt to heal from.

If I were to go back in time and meet that little girl who was once me, I would tell her this. I know that you hate this, I know it makes absolutely no sense and goes against everything you know to be right. I know you feel betrayed and I know you feel absolutely alone but I promise you that it will get better. I can’t promise you that those who hurt you will change but you will get through this and you will survive. This is what I would tell her and this is what I would tell you if you right here with me, as we shared the hurts that we went through. You didn’t choose this life and by no fault of your own you are here, but I promise you it gets better.

I am the oldest daughter to a very hard working mother. I love that woman to pieces. She taught how to be resourceful and to survive when the world knocks you down. She also taught me to be very critical and skeptical. But if anyone could make a joke out of a horrible situation, she could.

As a kid we moved around a lot, and I mean A LOT! I went through 13 different schools and never stayed at a school longer than a year or two. Two years was the maximum until I got to high school. My childhood friend is my little sister. Aside from her I haven’t known anyone from my childhood. I don’t have many friends. In fact, I don’t do well with friendship. I mistrust very easily and I’m always collecting data. Well, I used to until I met my husband. I’m better now.

I’m not afraid of losing material things. That’s because I lost everything once. It’s weird because you have these materials things that have a special meaning to you but then you lose it and a part of yourself goes with it. Once I lost that part of me, I knew I couldn’t hang on to anything. I no longer wanted to be attached to anything.

I have a very critical internal dialogue and at times it can be toxic. I’ve been able to dial it down lately but it’s work. I know it stems from my childhood. I don’t think people realize that one of most damaging things you can do to a person is to mess up their internal dialogue. What you say out of anger, whether you meant or not, can seriously damage an individual. One time, I remember being told at the age of 6 that sometimes I make it hard to be loved. I’m 33 and I’m still bothered by it and the worst part is I don’t even know what I did to get that reaction.

I’ve forgiven the person but the memory still hurts. I’ve carried that around for years, shutting people out and just being a very mean person. I didn’t want anyone to get too close because at the end of the day I thought I was hard to love. Those words were on a silent replay in my head.

I have a hard time spending time, energy and money on myself. I recently spent $150 on an outfit while on the verge of having a panic attack. I felt like a sinner splurging on such frivolous vanities. You see, growing up I was always rewarded for accepting the cheaper option. I often said yes when I wanted to say no. I said I liked it when I sincerely hated what was given to me. I was trying to do my part in sustaining the home. If money could be saved wasn’t it my job to make it happen?

Society loves to paint women as strong if they can internalize everything without speaking about it. Without sharing it and without getting the proper healing from their childhood hurts.

To some people, I know my experiences may seem shallow. Here I am talking about moving a lot, buying cheap and some hurt words. But trauma isn’t defined by a society. It’s defined by an individual’s interpretation of an event. Often that event will lead that individual to create some toxic patterns in terms of their behaviour.

I had my first panic attack, when I saw domestic abuse displayed in my face. I had no one to help or guide me through it. Until this day, it’s a joke that is told in my family. I don’t think anyone every really understand what I experienced. I felt cast aside. I needed somebody to come to me and to tell me that everything was going to be ok. I remember the days I would go to school without a lunch and not one soul noticed. I did that and nobody told me everything would be ok. I remember giving up my dreams to be the “good” girl and still nobody told me everything would be ok.

I’m still overcoming those hurts. I still grieve but this time I get to change the narrative for my girls. I get to be the anchor I needed. No matter how rough things get, I know I won’t have all the answers but I can tell them that everything will be ok.