Ever wonder about the walls you have? Don’t think you have
any, huh? I think if I were to ask if someone if they thought they had walls up
around them, they would be inclined to say no. But after some reflection, it
seems to me that most people would discover they do have walls that they use to
protect themselves from something.
In a previous post, Barriers to Love, I referred to the
walls I have in my life. Today, I wanted to explore that a little more. Here it
goes. Let’s see where this leads. J
I grew up never considering myself a hider. Truly, I thought
I was outgoing and friendly. I had a lot of friends, played sports, starred in
musicals, did cheer leading, was a Girl Scout, and more. My mom involved me and encouraged me to be in
many activities. Yet looking back, I can see that I hid right out in the open. Doing all that stuff was me desperately trying
to be normal and not let anyone know how messed up I felt inside. I never
talked to anyone about what was going on at home.
So what was going on at home? (I didn’t really know this is
where this was going but what the hell?) When I was young, as I have mentioned,
things were pretty good at home. But when I was about 3 or 4, my mom got
pregnant. (BTW I did not find out about this whole story until I was 18.) My
parents had tried to get pregnant for years but with no luck, which is why they
adopted my brother (2 ½ years older) and me. When my mom got pregnant, they
decided that having another baby was not in their plans. The plan was, as best as
I can understand, was that my mom would have an abortion and my dad would get a
vasectomy. Well, it seems that they were
pretty messed up because neither one could figure out how to make that
agreement work. It seems like my mom was
more unreasonable than my dad. But basically, my mom made an appointment for
the abortion, and my dad could not make it because of his work. My mom did not
reschedule, and he missed it. She was very resentful; sadly, she still is 37
years or so later. She says he did not
get a vasectomy for a year after that and that she would not sleep with him all
that time. I do not think I have the
whole story, though.
My dad says they went to counseling, but my mom has no
recollection of that. This makes me believe she has distorted the truth with
the anger she has towards my dad. Eventually this led my mom to move out of my
parent’s room into her own room when I was 8. Shortly after, my brother and I found
papers that indicated that she was thinking about divorce. After finding that, my brother said outright
that we will never talk about what we found and I didn't.
The walls had started before then because my parent’s
problems pervaded our home, but after that crap, I actively built walls to hide
what I knew and what I felt. It is weird to think that I never talked to anyone
about what I was going through, but truly, I did not talk to anyone until I met
my husband and even then, it took years for me to open up at all.
Walls are crazy because people create them for a purpose
which does serve us for a while. I surely did that. Yet eventually, those same
walls inhibit us from growing and becoming all that we can be. I am challenging myself to tear down those
walls, one brick at a time or more if I can.
How are your walls doing? Intact or beginning to come down
or all the way down?
There seems to be lots of reasons to be sad but also many reasons to be happy and have hope. I am sure that when you and your brother were adopted it was with the best of intentions and that it was the goal of your parents to give you a life full of love. While no one really knows what other life paths would have included, had you not been adopted your lot in life could have been dismal.
ReplyDeleteI have had many discussions with woman who had abortions. It is amazing to me how many of these women, even decades later, mourn the loss of their child. They have a hard time discussing the subject but when the look around and see all the life that is in the world they carry with them the questions about what the life that was growing in their womb could have experienced. I cannot say but I wonder if the changes that you experienced from your very happy younger years to the alienation you felt later may have been hidden behind the walls of you mother's mind in those quiet times when she contemplated the life that never came to be.
I was the first born to my parents after my mother had suffered the miscarriage of three daughters. I had two younger brothers but no sisters. Sometimes when my mother was sad and I would ask her why she would tell me that she was thinking of the daughters she never knew.
Pax.
Pat
I so appreciate your comments every time. Your willingness to be open and honest is inspiring.
DeleteI have always thought my parents adopted us because they wanted children and that they did love us. My mom having an abortion when I was 3 or 4 definitely affected her on many levels but I truly believe they could have worked through that together, if they chose to.
Sounds kind of hard to do but I know it can be done from experience. I too had an abortion when I was 21ish. William and I decided we were not in a place to be able to care for a child in the way we felt a child deserved. To this day, I do not regret that choice. For me, the understanding of my own very strong beliefs about what should be done in raising a child has helped me to not mourn anything. That child would have not had a good life because I was and am still not available to give myself 100% to a child, which is what I think every child deserves.
Again thank you so much for commenting and giving such deep food for thought.