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Laying it all Down
I didn’t have a name for what I was going through as I came into adulthood. As I looked at my life and realized how awful it was. No name for that desperate desire to learn, grow, be and do different. I felt that desperation from such a young age, but there was NO ONE to guide me.
One memory, in particular, I was probably around age 7 or 8. We had just moved to another new house. I was sitting on the porch alone wondering about my biological father. If he would somehow be kinder, nicer, more caring than the parents I was living with. When I met him years later I learned he was not any better. He had his own demons and trauma he hadn’t resolved.
I felt this incredible urge to change things. As if it were my responsibility to care for everyone and everything. If I just loved them enough, reached out to their hearts enough, did enough for them they would change. They would make me feel loved and accepted. The neglect would be a thing of past.
I can remember writing letters to my stepfather. He and I had such a bad relationship. When I told mom at age fourteen it had to be him or me, she chose him. I left home and started staying with friends or wherever I could. Eventually I ended up with a cousin helping her raise her four children.
When I tell you that I made mistakes as a mother I don’t mean it lightly. The only examples I had of how…