As children we learn forgiveness. That people are basically good. You must learn to forgive and hopefully forget. But what happens when you can't. I remember reading something about your heart being stronger at the broken places. It may be true but stronger does not mean better. I have been trying to forgive several family members for a very long time. I've asked God to lift this burden off me. When I am fully conscious and focused I'm able to take the higher ground. When I'm caught off guard my gut reaction goes right to hatred.
My Aunt, Uncle and their four children grew up around the block from me. As far back as I can remember our relationships have been fraught with abuses of one kind or another. Sexual abuse including rape. Physical abuse. Psychological torture. The list goes on. Ironically one of my abusers is now a high profile Minister. I often wonder what people would think if they knew what he did to me and others. No need to worry about the bogey man or something under the bed. They were the real life monsters of my childhood. Yet as an only child I craved their attention, their affection, I wanted them to love me no matter what the price. As I grew older I found both my strength and my voice. I learned to fight back and rally against them.
By age 18 we moved and our contact lessened. Amazingly it would take almost another two decades before I could finally sever them from my life. Yet there was always a part of me that yearned for that idealized relationship I craved as a child. It's like looking at that Norman Rockwell painting "Freedom From Want" who doesn't want that feeling? Ultimately it's about being loved for who you are and maybe more importantly despite who your not. Still the mention of their names cause my emotions to tangled like snakes. I gird my loins at the possibility of be in their company.
Last year my Aunt (my Mothers Sister) passed away. I did not want to attend her funeral. Out of respect for my Mothers memory and caving to pressure from other family members I attended. Now my Uncle is doing poorly and he may die at any time. I want to say "good" but I will not. This tidbit was relayed with great concern to me by another family member. AND NOW WHAT!?! Aren't funerals about honoring the life of the deceased? Why should I pay homage to someone who abused me? Everything is not alright... In some ways I am still not all right.
So many times I hear myself say I'm tired. What I really mean is I'm tired of people trying to force me into the box they've checked for me. Tired of love given with conditions attached. Tired of not feeling worthy. Tired of repressing and depressing parts of myself to oblige others. Truth is the person I really need to forgive is myself.
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