Tag Archives: healing

Being Broken

When I first started this blog, I thought that Random Babble of a Broken Girl would be incredibly fitting. It never occurred to me to question my meaning of “broken”.  I mean here I was identifying as a broken girl but what did that even mean?  What was broken?

I took some time to look through my old posts and how I saw myself hit me square in the face. Although I still view myself as a broken girl, I see myself as broken in a very different way.  When I started this slow, inconsistent journey of publicly writing, I thought of myself as a “bad” person.  I thought my morale compass was broken, that my spirit was dark, and my intentions never pure.  Perhaps that was partially true; and much like a toy when the spring breaks, I was broken.  I needed to be “fixed” so to speak.

In reading my old posts, those feelings still swell in me but the impact is much different.  At one time, those overwhelming emotions would wear me down, help me justify bad decisions, help me excuse my choices – regardless of the consequences.  But over time, and without even realizing it, I’ve come to think of myself as a different type of broken. I’m no longer full of self-loathing, I no longer see my morale compass as being “broken”…skewed for sure but not broken.  I’m not broken because many of the aspects of who I am are pure, good and true.  I have learned that my differences are mine and it’s ok.  It’s ok to not always follow a straight line.  It’s ok to be me.

I have come to realize that, no matter how hard I try to not be, I am prone to guilt, I am prone to worrying about judgment, I am prone to shame, I worry about what certain people think and are going to say and ultimately I am terrified of being rejected. Basically, my self-confidence and esteem are broken.  *I* am no longer broken but rather little pieces of me are.  And maybe they’re not even so much broken as they are underdeveloped.  Maybe I’m not broken at all.  Maybe I never was.

I am struggling. I am struggling with who I am and how to define myself.  I am struggling with allowing myself to truly be me and feeling at peace with that versus worrying about what others think of me.  I struggle with opinions because I don’t have the confidence to say “fuck ‘em”.  It’s quite a dichotomy for me because as a general rule, I do as I want, when I want and how I want.  I care very little about the way some people think of me but then others I have a burning need and desire to prove wrong.  But why?  WHO CARES?

Clearly I do.

I thought that my growth was substantial in the early beginnings of this crazy journey but they weren’t.  I’ve got a helluva way to go but I’ll keep taking baby steps and those baby steps will get me to the woman I know I am. I am the woman that has wings fueled by fiery spirit, the woman that has a heart so tender it could be sliced with a feather, the woman that can harness the power of ten Sirens in one look and the woman who carries a wisdom many centuries older than her earthly age.  I will get there.  I hope you all stick with me, the journey is far from over yet.

~ From the not broken but not whole me.

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Closure Exposure

Closure Disclaimer:

I was sent a “closure” email recently and I’ve contemplated responding to it but haven’t. That being said, I do need to have my say.  To be able to get these words out.  Somewhere.  So, like all things, I turned to my little web-corner and I’ve decided to have my say here.  These are my words.  My feelings.  My thoughts and my opinions.  If you don’t want to hear it or read it, please close your browser now. 

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Dear So-and-So,

I recevied your “closure” email but quite frankly, I don’t care if you have “closure”  or not.  So the next time you feel inspired to write a piece of hate mail, leave me out of it.  I am tired of hearing the same old hashed-out insults and complaints.  I wanted to reply but, as you will soon find out, I have nothing nice to say to you.  That being said, I do need some closure for my own self so that I finally start the healing of this hurt. 

Everytime I start to think about what to write, I get so exasperated I can barely think. Your behaviour and attitude is beyond comprehension.  Your words are contradictory, your behaviour is erradic and overall this whole situation is nonsensical. 

Let me start by saying I am furious with you and the things said below come from a place of bitterness, disappointment, and embarassment. I am downright incensed with the person you’ve grown into and the behaviour you’ve demonstrated and I need to get this out. I always thought you were better than any of this but I was so wrong.  You are fake.  You are a liar.  You are entitled. You are destructive and you are hurtful.  You spew hate and hurt toward this family yet you act as if you are the “hurt” one.  Stop playing the victim and start owning up to your own behaviour.  You haven’t grown, you haven’t changed, you haven’t done one goddamn thing you preach about yet you expect praise because you’re going to school?  Let me tell you girl, it’s going to take a helluva lot more than a college diploma before I believe one ounce of breath that leaves your body.

In your email, you thanked me for being a parent to you when neither of your bio-parents were able.  You know, it may have meant something to me if you hadn’t spent the rest of your time bashing my character.  I’m not sure who you think you are but until you are faced with having to make the same decisions, you are unqualified to judge my actions and my decisions.  Being your parent was hellish at times.  I spent more hours crying about, worrying over, and double guessing my decisions than any one person should have.  I spent my early 20’s dealing with your shitty attitude and behaviour and oh look, now spending my early 30’s doing exactly the same thing.

Your words, your behaviour, your actions have caused me more hurt in my life than anything else.  That’s because they used to mean something to me.  Your opinion of me, meant something.  That’s starting to change.  See, all those years I’d find little notes about you wishing your Dad would leave me, all those years where you felt it necessary to impart your opinion on our relationship, all the times you’ve yelled, screamed, pitched fits about how crappy your life was are taking their toll. 

You’ve always made your opinion of your Dad’s and my relationship known and that obviously isn’t about to change.  My response to that is “Butt Out”.  It is none of your business.  My relationship with your Dad is between us.  Keep it to yourself.  In my opinion, you would be lucky to find someone as kind, caring, loving and considerate as your Dad. 

Another one of your many complaints is that your Dad chose me over you but you’ve failed to explain exactly how he’s done that.   It’s time to lay that to rest.  It’s obvious your Dad loves you.  It’s obvious he’s been there for you, there were times when he could have been there more but overall, I’d say he’s been pretty involved in your life.  I challenge you to do the math of how many years you’ve lived with your Dad, spent weekends with your Dad and then talk to me about how he was never there or chose someone else.  Until you can come up with compelling facts, backed up by people other than just your Mother’s Camp, your complaints fall on deaf ears.

The thing that has bothered me the most in all of this is how you are constantly slinging mud at your Dad.  You know, if he ever said the things to you that you’ve been saying to him, you would go on the war path like no one has ever seen.  It would serve to validate every little real or imagined injustice you have felt through your life.  You would use it against him for all time and show every person how awful and mean your Dad is.  You know, people are in your life for a short period of time and one day, you will miss your Dad.  One day, you may regret the things you’ve said to him.  One day, your Dad will be gone and I sincerely hope that regret weighs heavy in your heart and on your soul. 

I am constantly amazed at how you expect others to accept you, believe in you and look past your mistakes but you aren’t willing to give the same consideration to other people.  We’ve apologized for our parenting mistakes time and time again but that’s simply not good enough for you.  I have a news flash for you – we are people too. 

The bitter-hearted part of me sometimes wishes I could go back and take back every birthday party, every special holiday, every hug, every inside joke, every new anything and the shopping splurges, every time I did put you before my own children, every time I referenced you as my own daughter, every Saturday morning family cuddle, take the flower that represents you off of my body, basically take back every little piece of me I’ve ever given you. That is pure anger talking and it’s going to take time for me to work through that.

Beyond the bitterness and anger, beyond the hurt and brokenheart, this has made me stronger.  In the past, I would have bottled everything up inside.  The end result of that being an explosive response when I just couldn’t take anymore.  Now, I’m reaching out to people in my life and it’s a really good feeling.  I have kind, considerate folks who are willing to listen to me.  They help me talk through the hurt and the pain and support me in my growth.  It gives me renewed strength and energy to face the next time you enter my life.  It is a great feeling and I’m happy that I’m able to establish stronger relationships and really value them as they should be.  Our family is more honest and supportive of one another.  We are stronger because of this and are re-evaluating relationships we may have otherwise overlooked. 

Over the years we have included you in every family gathering, every family function, worked so hard to make you feel important, to make you feel loved and valued and at the end of the day, it was all superficial.  We never meant anything to you.  You keep saying “we aren’t your real family” over and over and for the longest time I didn’t want to believe it but that’s probably the only truthful thing you’ve said. 

We aren’t your real family.  To you, we never were.  It sucks for all of us because to us, it was very real.