Baby Steps and Codependent Tendencies

This week has been a tough week mentally.

Last weekend, I felt it was finally time to go to my parents house (which I swore I would never do. They HAD to meet me halfway) and sit down and have a talk with them about moving forward. I'm not sure why or where it came from but the feeling came, and I leaned into it. It went as well as it could have. I kept my chin high and honestly had no expectations for how it would go. I simply wanted to start the process of baby steps for moving forward. They were receptive, and we ended up spending a little over 2 hours talking about things and catching up on life in general. Mom was extremely open and warm and loving, and dad was... well... dad. A little high and mighty combined with not accepting responsibility or accepting the real reason I distanced myself. Some things probably will never change.

On Sunday, I saw them again at the class at church. Again, things went well, and it wasn't awkward. I even sat myself at their table for the table discussions time and helped to lead things. I wanted to prove to myself and them that I wasn't scared and that my confidence is real. Mom and I exchanged a few of our smiles and looks at each other that say "I love you." "I love you too." Dad was stiff, however. He acted as his high and mighty self and couldn't actually open up and be a real person. He's always trying to guide people instead of reflecting on himself. Some things just may never change... The hard part for me during that class was when the lady in charge started correlating the church to family and spoke about how you never leave your family and you never turn your back on your family. My parents gave each other looks that basically said "HA! WE ARE RIGHT! ASHLEY SUCKS AND WAS TOTALLY IN THE WRONG!" I wish the head of the program would've given a caveat. Not that it would've mattered. My dad doesn't think he did anything wrong.... The caveat is this. You don't leave or turn your back on a LOVING AND SUPPORTIVE family, but if that family environment is negative and tumultuous and the only way for YOU to get healthy is to walk away, then it's okay.... just make sure that you never ever stop praying for them. This is what I did, and I have no regrets about it. It's just tough to sit there and have your parents not understand... maybe ever.

Later on Sunday, I had the opportunity to share my story with a new friend who is going through something similar with their own family. It was uncanny how similar our stories are... general and specific stories. I hadn't opened up about those stories really to anyone except my counselor in a very long time. Part of me almost wants to forget they ever happened, but I know I need to learn to share them. Sharing will only help to heal. It helped to reiterate that I'm not crazy and the only one in the world who has gone through something like this. This person is about a year or so behind me in their journey, and I hope they will find some comfort in knowing they aren't the only one either.

Last weekend was a BIG weekend for me. Those parts of my heart that I've kept closed for so long are starting to open again, and I want to face them. I want to start healing the deepest wounds. But it's not easy. This week has NOT been easy. Even though the weekend of events with my family stuff was positive, it was extremely difficult on me. It has taken a few days for me to process and fully grasp what I'm opening myself up to again. That vulnerability is scary as hell. I even started to feel myself slip back into codependency traits and insecurities... even my diet changed almost over night and I craved things I haven't craved since I was codependent on my parents. I was even anxious about my HEALTHY relationships in my life and making up in my head that one of my best friends was mad at me and maybe the guy I'm dating doesn't like me anymore...

Why would he want to take a chance on me?
What good did I bring to the table?
Why do I think I'm worth it?
Is one of my best friends mad at me for letting her down?
Will she still want to be my friend if she sees that I'm not perfect?
I'm not really worthy of this amazing friendship, am I?

I can seriously drive myself nuts with these doubts and insecurities. LUCKILY, they haven't come up in a long time, and I was able to stop them. I have learned over time how to stop the cycle before it starts to head downward. I allow myself to feel but then I don't allow myself to stay there. Instead of badgering my friend and asking if she's mad at me and apologizing for whatever I make up in my head, I stop. I take time for myself. I talk it out with a couple of amazing, close people who have known me my entire life. Then, I put my cell phone to the side, and I give it a night. I veg, I pray, and I get some sleep. When I wake up in the morning, I send said friend a text message of love and all is good again. Because in reality...

I AM WORTH HER FRIENDSHIP.
I AM WORTHY OF THIS AMAZING LIFE.
I AM AN AMAZING CATCH AND ANY MAN WOULD BE LUCKY TO HAVE ME IN HIS LIFE.
I AM WORTHY OF EVERYTHING MY HEART DESIRES AND AM MORE THAN ENOUGH!


And SO ARE YOU.

Harmless Lies That Aren't So Harmless

I know I haven't blogged much in a while about my stories of growing up in a verbally abusive household, and truth be told some of the stories are quite short. They're not really stories but tricks and lies to get my sisters and I to believe my dad was basically "god". He knew all and only following his commandments would allow for us to be successful in life. If we didn't follow his word, then we would be failures and end up on the street.

Here are just a few of the lies/stories that stuck with me through childhood and beyond:

• Balloons needed to be released to "heaven". We were convinced to let our balloons go up into the sky and send them to heaven. I can't remember any time we had balloons hanging around in the house for days after a party or an event. [What's interesting is that now, if I get a balloon for my birthday or something, it will sit in my office or room as long as possible until it deflates on its own or I get tired of looking at it.]
• Bedtime was always at 8pm (unless it was TGIF Friday)... Unless it was really 7:30. I never really knew. My parents used to change the time on the clock so that they showed it was 8pm when it was really earlier once I was able to tell time. Also, we were NEVER on time for anything. We were always early and always left early. [It took until the last couple of years for me to allow myself to be on time or even late to things. When you stop and actually enjoy the moment you're in, the time doesn't really matter (with a few exceptions of course).]
• My curfew was 9:30pm. Or was it? I had set my watch to be 7 minutes ahead of the time of the clock in the kitchen, but when I got home from being out with friends, I was conveniently 3 minutes late. How does that happen? Well they admit it today, but back then, they changed the clock to scare me into thinking I was late so that I would never be late again. I even got grounded for being "late" that time. Surely, there's a better way to teach a lesson than that... or just trust that you've raised your daughter to make the right decisions?
• If I didn't give out three compliments a day, I was a bad person who didn't think of others. Sure, it taught me to give people compliments and how to make others feel good about themselves, BUT he could've just led by example. When was the last time I heard a compliment from him?
• Anyone who is 5 shouldn't still be carrying around a blanket. Up until my 5th birthday, I had a blanket I slept with and carried around. My parents convinced me into thinking it would be embarrassing if my friends came over for my party and they saw that I still had a blanket. I refused to give it up/hide it, but then the morning of my party, I gave it to my parents and asked them to hold it so my friends didn't see. When the party was over, I asked for it back. "We threw it away," they said. "We thought you didn't want it anymore, so we threw it away." I can remember crying so hard over that lost blanket and begging them to find it. That I only asked them to hold it, not throw it away.

There are other things, like my dad had me convinced he was omniscient (all-knowing). That he knew when I cussed or said bad things or what went through my head. He used to ask questions to try and lead me to admit things that either I had or hadn't done/said. I can remember a time at dinner when he laid into me about being on drugs (I have never even tried pot mind you.). I was 14 and we were at a public restaurant and he started in on me accusing me of being on drugs. It was so ridiculous that I was laughing, which made him even angrier and made matters worse. What he was really seeing from me was a teenage girl experiencing the ups and downs of hormones. Instead of tapping into that, he accused me of being on drugs. As a matter of fact, I got accused of being on drugs 2 years ago, and from what I hear, my baby sister still does. It's as though he can't rationalize a behavior from us, so we MUST be on drugs. That's the only logical explanation.... OR you can just ask us what's going on and if we're okay... But that would be too healthy to do.

If you have experienced anything like this, know it's not healthy or normal. I have worked hard over the past few years to replace 26 years worth of lies with the real truths. Most have been processed but some pop up every now and again. It's okay to let ourselves process and work through these. It's not an easy road, but once you're on the other side, it's all worth it.

Puzzle Pieces and Baggage

Love is a crazy and amazing thing, but if you're like my best friend and I, you're not quite sure if there is truly someone in this world who will be able to accept and "handle" all of you and your "baggage". We met for dinner last night and had an inspiring conversation about this. You see, my best friend is a single mother to a beautiful and amazing (almost) 7 month old boy. I won't publicly roast her "sperm donor" on here, but just know there are no nice words that come to mind when his name comes up.

Both she and I have what most would call "baggage": She with her little one and me with my verbal abuse history and family issues. Most people would consider this baggage and us as damaged goods. But I prefer to think of us in a different light. I actually believe we are the most equipped for love when it comes our way and for sticking in a long lasting, healthy relationship. We have been able to rise above the terribly crappy cards that have been dealt to us and make amazing lives for ourselves. We are strong, independent women who know who we are and aren't willing to settle for anything less than we deserve because we have been through the crud and refuse to go back. We have become strong enough to carry our own baggage with one finger on one hand and hold it above our heads.

But now the question looming is, who is able to help us unpack it?

That's where the puzzle pieces come into play. Because of the storms we have weathered in our lives, the pieces to our own puzzle have become chiseled and formed so uniquely that we both wonder if someone exists who can fit with us. For me, I finally have a great sense of who I am and who I want to continue to be moving forward. My life is founded in my faith in the Lord and not the opposite. I need someone who lives his life the same. And more than likely he will come with his own "baggage" as the storms in his own life will have molded and shaped his puzzle piece so that it is unique as well.

I sometimes wonder though, does that complementary puzzle piece exist for me? I have faith and hope that it does (and he does). People through the history of time have found each other and have had a lifetime of love. I know the Lord will allow someone to come into my life when it's the right time. Who knows? Maybe he already has. What's important to remember is that while I'm opening myself up to love again, that I stay true to myself and my needs. The love I'm opening up to is the kind of love I've never experienced or had before. This new love will be healthy and balanced and will inspire me to continue to strive to be a better person. As will I do the same for him. I've weathered a helluva storm; the sun is now shining, and I'm ready to find that person that I can continue on this journey with. That puzzle piece that will fit with mine and the person who will help me unpack and stay a (long) while.

"If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans."

This year has been an amazing journey. I have soared to new and higher heights than I ever thought possible. My relationships are richer and heart is fuller than it has ever been in my life. Each day I have had the opportunity to actually live and cherish the moment I'm in. Sometimes that's difficult. On occasion I do still wish away a day or two, but I really try my best not to.

Lately, I have been trying to figure out if a move across the country is where I should go next. Wheels are set in motion, and I'm in the final stages of interviewing for my "dream" company... Notice how I said 'dream company' and not 'dream job'? You see, the company I'm interviewing with is amazing. I've been known to claim that if this company were a person, then I would marry it. [Yes, my love does go that deep.] Currently, I have an opportunity to join said company but I don't want the position I'm interviewing for. It's a place I never considered being in when praying about and contemplating this move. I pretty much only considered that either I'd get the offer and go or wouldn't get the offer and wouldn't go....

But what do you know, a third option exists! It's as the saying goes... "If you want to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." I hear you laughing God. ;-)

So here I sit still in the interview process but I know this position isn't meant for me. I'm excited though. I'm excited for the opportunity to stay in Atlanta and continue my journey with the people here and my life here. Even if it's only for another few months until the position I really want opens up again...

So what is the point of writing all of this?

I write all of this because another opportunity has arisen unexpectedly (again, I hear God laughing), and staying in Atlanta means the chance to give it a whirl. You see, this opportunity is one that I didn't expect nor did I seek it out.... Nor did I think I wanted it. This opportunity is one to possibly make a healthy, teeny tiny, baby step forward with my parents. My mom will be in a summer class to become Catholic at my church with my dad at her sponsor. I volunteered as a leader of this class 3 summers ago but haven't helped in quite some time. Coincidentally (or not... probably not), the head of the program reached out and asked if I would be interested in helping out again this summer. I didn't respond right away.

I decided to take some time and think on it and pray on it. Along with the job opportunity I was praying on and the new potential relationship in my life. [Did I tell you there's lots of big things going on??] On Tuesday of this week, I was able to gain clarity and made a decision. I am going to help out with the summer classes and allow this to be my next "try" with my parents. I honestly have no idea if it will help anything, but the least I can do is try. God knocks on our door unexpectedly and I am open to where He leads me. This time, I know He has opened a door or window or peephole into a step forward. These classes will allow me to stick to my boundaries and keep us in a neutral environment. I will also be helping to lead it, so I will be in a position of authority. They will get to see that energy from me and hopefully will respond respectfully. Hopefully. Things start two weeks from Sunday. We shall see....

Fifteen Part 2

I've kind of been putting off writing this post. Not because I don't want to share it but each time I put my past experiences on "paper", it somehow makes them more real than they already were and are. Alas, I need to write these things down, so here goes Fifteen, Part Deaux...

At the age of 15 was when my relationship with my parents began the transition from child to adult pretty quickly. When most children should be worried about school work, the opposite sex (come on, hormones!), that awkward stage, and perhaps what pool they would spend their summer at, my fifteenth year (and sixteenth year) was spent consoling my mom and being a sounding board for her.

You see, that year was when my mom started to suspect that my dad was having an affair. Not just any affair, but an affair with a woman who had been working for my dad since I was nine years old. [We will call her "K" for the purposes of anonymity.] K had become a best friend to my mom and the older sister I never had. She was there at every birthday and holiday celebration that I can remember. She was the one who taught me how to answer the phones at my dad's office when I worked there over the summer. She would come to my karate competitions and cheer my sister and I on. I can still picture her porcelain-like skin, thin stature, jet black hair with thin, big bangs. She had some keychains on her car keys that she promised to me when I turned 16 (which she delivered but they have since be tossed out with yesterday's trash).

Looking back, I almost wonder if the affair had been going on for years before we first knew it. My mom started telling me she suspected something was going on between them. Dad always had an excuse for needing to work late and missing dinner with the family. He was also growing increasingly defensive and irritable when he would buy us "things" and we didn't respond in the way in which he wanted. [Insert verbal abuse and yelling and screaming here.] There were countless claims that we didn't really love him and appreciate him. None of us. To which we would reply "of course we do!" through tears streaming down our faces. We were always the bad guys. He was always the victim. In reality, he was the one sinning against his own family.

This affair went on for at least two to three years that I know of. My mom would confide in me and ask me if I knew where my dad was. Try and call him and see if he would answer. She was also confiding in a close friend of the family at the time too. I don't blame her. She had no where to turn. Unfortunately, her confiding in me caused me to lose a part of my childhood. I no longer trusted any man I dated for the next decade. I still have doubts in my mind, but have come to the conclusion and a sense of peace that I can't control anyone but myself. If a man wants to be unfaithful, then that is his decision and he will have to face the consequences. I wouldn't change anything. I'm glad I could be there for my mom and help be a voice of reason or a shoulder to cry on, but looking back, I probably wasn't the best person to pull into the mix. I was just a teenage child.

Everything came to fruition November of my senior year of high school. I was in the basement, and my sisters were in their rooms when my dad came onto the intercom and asked us all to come to the kitchen. It was there where he confessed to us about the affair. He didn't confess apologetically, however. When he told us what had been going on, he put the fault on my mom for the family about to be torn apart. He said "your mom is going to leave us/me if I didn't tell you what I just told you". "Ask your mom not to leave us. She is about to walk out the door right now." [I'm sorry, but last I checked DAD, you were the one who cheated and screwed up. If mom wanted to leave you, she had every. single. f*cking. right.]

This confession left my sisters in tears and me doing my best to stay strong for them. They begged my mom not to leave dad just like dad wanted them to do. They made mom feel guilty for even considering it when I hoped she would be strong enough to walk out or better yet, make him walk out. Later that night when I got home from cheerleading, I can still remember going in my closet, shutting the door, and crying my eyes out. Finally, the truth had come out but the truth had become reality. My dad wasn't this man I put on the pedestal. Let alone the verbal abuse; he didn't only cheat on my mom; he cheated on us.

For years afterwards, I would have nightmares about my dad and K. About him confessing that he was in love with her and going to marry her. It wasn't until well after I graduated college that those nightmares subsided. Now, the nightmares have since gone away, but my relationship with my parents was and will forever be changed.

Your Tears Are Not Over Me

I heard you were crying over me yesterday Mom. That breaks my heart.  My instant reaction is to call you and see if you're okay, but the reason you're crying is not really over me. The reason you're crying is because you miss me, but the choices you have made are keeping us apart. When dad made you choose between him or me, you chose him. When I reached out and offered to meet you half way with our relationship but kindly asked you to not tell dad everything we spoke about, you told me he was your husband and you wouldn't keep anything from him. When I explained that his judgements and negativity weren't welcome and that is why I preferred to keep our relationship between you and I, you repeated that he was your husband and you would stand by him.

I get that. I do. He is your husband. But I am your daughter. I would love to share my life with you like we used to do, but I cannot if I can't trust you. Every time I do, I get burned from it. The last time was Thanksgiving. Again, I reached out and offered out a hand to try and start the healing process between us by all going to counseling. The counseling was refused but you asked who my counselor was. The daughter inside me relayed every piece of information I could in hopes that you would actually take me up on my offer. You did not. You relayed the information to dad who then tried to manipulate his way to indirectly control my life again. That is not okay.

You are not crying because of me because I have not done anything to cause you harm. I miss you mom, but it has been your choice not to invite me to holidays with the family. To not partake in counseling sessions. To not meet me at a coffee shop just to talk.

If only you knew how many days and nights I spent crying over how we were treated growing up. How dad treated (and still treats) you. How dad treated (and still treats) my sisters. I never wish you tears over me. Ever. But I am done being the one who tries and puts the pieces back together. I cannot and will not waste any more of my tears and time on people (whether family or not) who only tear me down. Perhaps there will be a day when things change. I hope and pray for it. However, today is not that day. Be happy with your choices because you did choose them. Always remember though, you can change your choices for the future and take a stand for your own heart.

I love you mom.

The Letter I Can't Bring Myself to Send

The below letter is one I wrote just to write after a suggestion from my counselor... but I cannot send it yet. I fear it will hurt my parents to hear the words I say. That they will take it as an attack and not for its intended purpose: to give them peace. So for now, I am posting it here.

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Mom and Dad,

First let me start this letter off by saying that I love you, always have and always will. You always made sure we had a roof over our heads and food on the table. You allowed us to go places and experience things most kids would only dream of. You raised me to be a kind, empathetic, driven, and successful woman. You taught me the value of hard work and dedication and that I can accomplish anything I set my mind to. You worked your butts off so that I could have the best future possible when I got out on my own. You made sure to attend just about every football game and cheerleading practice and competition I participated in. For all of those things and many more, I will be forever grateful to the both of you. 

It is through those life lessons and life experiences you taught me that my eyes were also open to the dark things going on in our own lives. My entire life, you always tried to protect me from the bad and dangers of the world. Unfortunately, what you didn't protect me from were the bruises and scars of verbal attacks that occurred within our home. I know I'm not a parent yet, but I know a parent should balance helping to protect their child from the evils of the world while also helping them to learn to fly on their own. Throughout my life, I felt like a caged bird that was allowed out on occasion but had her wings clipped preventing her from ever actually learning to fly on her own and experiencing the world for herself. 

Dad, you always tried to hammer in that I should have respect for myself while in the same breath calling me stupid or a b*tch or telling me I was fat and going to fail at school, friendships, relationships, etc.  What you should have been trying to do is build me up. This world is a crazy, scary place and our family's purpose should have been and should always be to be supportive and positive for one another. Constructive criticism is okay in doses when a child is young and still learning things, but I am an adult now. I need parents that I can share my life with as much or as little as I choose, and they don't judge, criticize or put my choices down. They are my choices. This is my life. 

You may think you don't know me anymore, but the fact is for 26 years, I didn't know myself. All I knew how to act and be was how I thought you wanted me to act and be. There was a light in me that dulled almost to the point of going out completely until three years ago when through much prayer, I decided to take control of my own life. It was time to stop letting you control my decisions and only do as you say to do. It was through that decision that I actually became the woman you always raised me to be. In fact, I am more than you could have ever dreamed of. The only difference is you aren't actively in my life anymore. Would I like that to change some day? Absolutely, but for now I need to keep my distance. 

Finally, for the first time in my life, I am strong from the inside out and I am SO incredibly proud of myself. I am successful and pursuing my dreams, and my dimmed passion for life has been turned into a burning flame. I have richer friendships and relationships than I ever have in my life. In fact, the relationship that has become the richest of all is the one I have with myself; I finally, actually believe in myself. 

The truth is I am still the daughter you once knew only stronger and better. I had to distance myself from your negativity to get to this place. To find out on my own that I could stand on my own two feet and in fact, wouldn't be a failure. Because of you, for so long I was afraid to truly live my life for fear of failure. You always put the fear of failure into my head and told me I was going to fail unless I did exactly as you said. I was never enough for you. Never smart enough, thin enough, got good enough grades, kind enough, perfect enough. But the truth is, who I am now and who I was before was always enough. I am enough. I am more than enough. I am an amazing woman who has learned about unconditional love, not from my own parents, but from God and Christ our Savior. He loves me and didn't give up on me at my lowest of lows, and I am so thankful for my relationship with Him above all else.

This may be hard for you to read, but I wanted to give you some insight into why I have chosen to keep my distance the last couple of years. Again, I love you guys more than you will ever know. In spite of the scars, I am able to forgive you because again, if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a lot of the foundation that has enabled me to get to this place today. I love both of you unconditionally and pray that we can reconcile one day. For now, know that you are always in my prayers and on my heart.

I love you,

Your daughter