Thoughts on my childhood...

Honestly, I got the short end of the stick in my childhood. I know that every family has it's problems and dysfunction, but mine could definitely be the poster child!!! I was angry about it for a long time. As I've gotten older and have grown spiritually, I've taken a different perspective. I wouldn't be who I am today without my painful past and have chosen to forgive.

I was the first born of a narcissistic mother and a father who struggled with depression and drank to deal with his own emotional pain. My only sister was born a year later. Early memories of my father were of a man who took providing for his family very seriously. I remember that he could be silly at times and enjoyed getting involved in the projects that my sister and I had to do for school. Despite his own issues, I know I was loved and that he did the best he could to be a good father. Unfortunately, I didn't have my dad, and he didn't get to be my dad, for a good bit of my childhood. My parents separated for the first time when I was in third grade and ultimately divorced as I finished junior high school.

Being a mother myself, I've never understood my mother. It's not possible for me to have a relationship with her even today, but I have forgiven her. Her actions must be what allows her to survive her own pain. As far back as I can remember, I felt rejected and not good enough for my mother. She told me many times, in her own way, that I didn't meet her needs. Apparently, my sister did. Even though my sister got the favor and attention of my mother, she was impacted as well, just differently. When my parents divorced, my mother saw to it that she turned us against our father and did not allow us to see him. My dad fought for us for a while, but eventually gave up. He didn't want to drag us through the court system anymore and my mother was a force just too great for him to bear.

Growing up with my mother's controlling ways and unattainable expectations led to the first major parting between us in my freshman year in college. I was your typical teenager. I had a little bit of a mouth and was a tad rebellious at times, but I focused on trying to be perfect and ended up being an honor student through junior and senior high school. I never got into trouble. My sister, on the other hand, got into plenty and developed anorexia and bulimia. Needless to say, there was a lot of drama in our house. Understandably, my sister's troubles consumed my mother, but I was the one who caught all of the backlash. My sister eventually ran off and got married at 18. That left me at home and I think my mother had had enough of parenting. I had had enough of how she was treating me and told her so. Instead of trying to patch things up between us, she invalidated my feelings and told me to get out.

This was the start of a journey on my own and my dad's mission to try to make up for year's lost.