After years and years of not receiving unconditional love as a child and being conditioned to not even believe I deserved my own love, it was tough unlearning those things. I had to learn to love and respect myself before anyone else could or would. That alone was a struggle considering I had no self-esteem or sense of self-worth, and I still struggle with it to this day at times. I will put myself out to help someone else all the time and that is not healthy either. When I began receiving unconditional love and help from someone else without hesitation, I rejected it. I refused to believe it and couldn't trust it. It made me uncomfortable because I wasn't used to getting it. It took me a while to learn to accept that I can be loved with all my many flaws and baggage. I can trust others to be there for me like I am for so many others. And what's more, I deserve it. Sometimes I wish I was a clean canvas, empty of everything so that an artist could cover me with confidence, self-worth, love, happiness, trust, and all the good things. But I am not. I am a torn canvas held loosely together with trauma, pain, horrible memories and self-consciousness. Misused and carelessly handled by the artists that I was delivered to. And in between those careless splats of bad art, there are tiny, beautiful murals perfectly placed by my children, my friends and a handful of family that I was blessed enough to have in my life in the midst of pure darkness like my granny. I have learned to focus more on the murals rather than the cracks and careless splatters of paint. And in doing so I have learned to allow myself to enjoy the good things. To allow myself to be unconditionally loved. To allow myself the support system I should have had from the very beginning. After trauma, everything tends to be a blur. A lot of things, even the good, can make us super uncomfortable, and that is because we lost our sense of security and safety along our journey so when something positive comes along it almost feels like a trap. For me this happened because the man that raped and molested me built up so much trust with me before he tore me down. My mother, who should have been the number one person I could trust did nothing to stop him. After something like that it's hard to unlearn fight or flight mode and learn true love and support. It made me question my judgement calling abilities because I trusted both of them with all of me and they let me down. And then I became a preteen, and I met a woman that I wished was my mother so badly. I would have trusted her with my own children if I had any at the time... and then she too showed me I put my trust in the wrong place when she murdered a baby. After that, I didn't trust my own decisions and feelings. Trauma affects us in so many ways that most people can't even begin to imagine. Trauma is more than a visible scrapes and bruises. Trauma goes so much deeper and affects the body as well as the mind and soul. - Feisty Mommy
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