Once upon a time, a conversation with my daughter……..
My children know……
My children know that I had a less than desirable childhood. Quite nasty one would say. They know that I was abused as a child. They know that I was sexually abused, beaten unmercifully, and verbally abused. They do not know details. They just know it happened and it shaped who I am today.
I did not sit my children down one day and decide to have a life chat with them. It came out bit by bit. The first time was with my daughter when she was younger and still believed in fairy tales. Cinderella’s Step Mom.
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“Mom? Did your mother sit up with you when you were a little girl? Did she stay with you when you were sick?”
“No, honey. My mother wasn’t around when I was your age (4). We lived with my father and stepmother. She wasn’t one to sit with us when we were sick.”
“Why?”
“She had problems. She didn’t know how to be a mother. She didn’t like me because I look so much like grandma.”
“Why Mommy?”
“Hmmmm, well honey, she was taught that the oldest was responsible for the younger children. When the younger children did something wrong and we were punished, she would punish mommy extra because it was my job to make sure my brothers didn’t do anything wrong.”
“But, Mommy?”
“Yes….?”
“That’s not right. You don’t punish me if the boys do something wrong. Why would your stepmom do that to you?”
“I don’t know sweetie. She was only repeating what was done to her. I refused to repeat that cycle. Its a cycle that has to be broken. I never wanted you or your brothers to know the fear I knew as a child. I love you too much to ever hurt you like that. It would kill me to hurt you like that.”
“She was like Cinderella’s stepmom?”
“Yes. That would be an accurate description. Only she was much worse then Cinderella’s step mom.”
“Mommy, I love you. You are a good mommy. I’m sorry you didn’t have a mommy like you when you were a little girl.”
“You know what? God was able to take every thing that happened to me and use it for good. I wouldn’t be who I am today with out what I went through. It doesn’t make what was done right. I chose. I made the choice to be a better person. Now look what I have. I have you three and I get to have all the fun now with you and the boys that I didn’t have while I was your age.”
“Well, you are kinda silly and weird sometimes,” as she laughs.
“I am aloud to be weird, silly, and goofy. What with you and two boys? Oh, lets not forget your Dad. He’s a bigger child than I am,” laughingly hugging her.
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There have been many other instances with my children where we have had conversations like the above conversation. The above conversation did take place when my daughter was a little girl. I have always been honest with them.
I chose to not repeat what was done to me. It is evident in the lives of my children. They are so happy and adjusted. They know who they are. They have a keen sense of self. They are comfortable in ways that I still grapple with as an adult.
If I never do anything else worthwhile in my life. I can know, with out a doubt, they have not had to deal with the type of fear and helplessness that I grew up with. In this area alone, I have done something good in my life.
This is supposed to be a “pat me on the back” post. I needed to do and say something positive for me, about me, and to me.
