Lily Rose
Beloved Grand Eagle
The summer I turned 13, my mom pulled into the drive and told my brother and I to pack whatever we wanted most into the car. Everything else would be left behind. We had to hurry. Her urgency became our urgency. Already deep within my dark-place, I sank a little further. The bulk of my comforts, the tangible items I treasured, receded into the distance as we sped away. My dear collection of stuffed animals, my childish turn-table that played music for me, my small jewelry box with the dancing ballerina ... we owned so little already, and now we had even less.
She left us with her sister. Two more kids under my Aunt who had three of her own. I began 8th grade. This was my 6th school move. We would remain here for 3 months.
My cousins, the oldest boy, middle girl and youngest girl, had endured much. Their coping methods led them to drugs. My aunt always forced her youngest daughter, who was 9 months my senior, to take her 'younger cousin' out with her when she roamed. My aunt knew nothing about the parties and drugs.
My other girl cousin had a boyfriend who drove a gorgeous orange Corvette (the Corvettes in the 70's still looked like real Corvettes!). He was always very kind to me. My craving for a male father figure fell to him. He was older than my cousin, and even I recognized his movie-star good looks.
My hero-worship was cinched one eve when my aunt had gone away for the night, and the teens threw a massive party. Kegs and drugs and sex. I tried to hide, finding corners, crawling behind furniture. The party just spilled everywhere, and the fumes finally got to me. Dizzy, I collapsed at the end of the hall and just curled up. Later, I woke up and He was there, swearing under his breath. He picked me up and carried me into the back bedroom, talked to me for a little bit, then left me. I could hear him clearing out the party.
He made me feel safe in a way that I had not felt safe for as long as I could remember.
Years later, my cousin told me why she broke up with him.
He was abusive, and had physically struck her several times.
I remember shutting this information off ... literally closing my mind to it. I could not ... could not ... lose my safe-memories of him.
In this last month, because of this forum, I have begun to examine this.
It created several shifts in perspective. I have always wondered ... how could my mom love a monster? Her third husband nearly destroyed me. It baffled me so terribly. How? How could she? How could she let my brother be so abused, and then send him away to a private school to 'save his life' rather than give up this man she had married?
While the answers cannot be simple, I am having my first real glimpse of another Truth. My hero-worship of that long ago young man who treated me so gently was one facet. The angry young man who struck my cousin was another facet.
Is the man a monster, or is the monster a man?
Or is he a person with great inner torment?
Some people strike outwards and cause damage.
Those of us here ... we have struck inwards, and the damage has been to ourselves.
I have tendency to demonize those who have caused me pain. My internal imagery captures them and flattens them into two dimensions.
By un-flattening them ... by lifting them back into the true complexity of their human selves, this is what begins to allow forgiveness. When we can see a little bit of ourselves ... in them, it changes everything.
I treasure the memory of being carried gently to safety. And I grieve for the knowledge of the pain his actions caused my cousin.
One day I hope to find more of these kinds of Truths in all those who caused me pain. This will be one of many paths to the healing.
with grace and gratitude,
^_^
She left us with her sister. Two more kids under my Aunt who had three of her own. I began 8th grade. This was my 6th school move. We would remain here for 3 months.
My cousins, the oldest boy, middle girl and youngest girl, had endured much. Their coping methods led them to drugs. My aunt always forced her youngest daughter, who was 9 months my senior, to take her 'younger cousin' out with her when she roamed. My aunt knew nothing about the parties and drugs.
My other girl cousin had a boyfriend who drove a gorgeous orange Corvette (the Corvettes in the 70's still looked like real Corvettes!). He was always very kind to me. My craving for a male father figure fell to him. He was older than my cousin, and even I recognized his movie-star good looks.
My hero-worship was cinched one eve when my aunt had gone away for the night, and the teens threw a massive party. Kegs and drugs and sex. I tried to hide, finding corners, crawling behind furniture. The party just spilled everywhere, and the fumes finally got to me. Dizzy, I collapsed at the end of the hall and just curled up. Later, I woke up and He was there, swearing under his breath. He picked me up and carried me into the back bedroom, talked to me for a little bit, then left me. I could hear him clearing out the party.
He made me feel safe in a way that I had not felt safe for as long as I could remember.
Years later, my cousin told me why she broke up with him.
He was abusive, and had physically struck her several times.
I remember shutting this information off ... literally closing my mind to it. I could not ... could not ... lose my safe-memories of him.
In this last month, because of this forum, I have begun to examine this.
It created several shifts in perspective. I have always wondered ... how could my mom love a monster? Her third husband nearly destroyed me. It baffled me so terribly. How? How could she? How could she let my brother be so abused, and then send him away to a private school to 'save his life' rather than give up this man she had married?
While the answers cannot be simple, I am having my first real glimpse of another Truth. My hero-worship of that long ago young man who treated me so gently was one facet. The angry young man who struck my cousin was another facet.
Is the man a monster, or is the monster a man?
Or is he a person with great inner torment?
Some people strike outwards and cause damage.
Those of us here ... we have struck inwards, and the damage has been to ourselves.
I have tendency to demonize those who have caused me pain. My internal imagery captures them and flattens them into two dimensions.
By un-flattening them ... by lifting them back into the true complexity of their human selves, this is what begins to allow forgiveness. When we can see a little bit of ourselves ... in them, it changes everything.
I treasure the memory of being carried gently to safety. And I grieve for the knowledge of the pain his actions caused my cousin.
One day I hope to find more of these kinds of Truths in all those who caused me pain. This will be one of many paths to the healing.
with grace and gratitude,
^_^
