Deconstructing childhood beliefs
I’ve been doing a lot of work deconstructing abstracts and notions I’ve been conditioned to regard as sanction growing up. Only recently had it really hit me how false and baseless those abstracts were, and, growing up not realizing that the evidence only pointed to the contrary. Specifically, I’m talking about the loaded and universal “Family is everything.”
Growing up, I did not have a good nor healthy relationship with my family. I was a black sheep. Sadly, among few. I was smart, but pursued the arts. I was beautiful, but fat. I was introverted, and somehow this meant I had no friends. I spoke up, and I was a bad child. Having differing ideas, feelings, and opinions garnered me criticisms, hurtful names, and shame. Lots and lots of shame. I felt like the family reject.
“Why can’t you just try to get along with everybody?”
“To this day you still haven’t changed.”
”You’ve got issues.”
Family is everything. Family comes first.
I cringe every time a family member or a stranger spouts those words. I’ve come to realize that instead of a moral guide, these words have become a form of manipulation through guilt. I’ve never believed them. I hated hearing them. It sounded like glorified bullshit to me and it still does.
How could that saying possibly be true when my reality just wasn’t reflecting that?
Caught between a rock and a hard place where family is supposed to come first but family was also causing me much grief, I learned to cope by withdrawing into myself and believing them. Believing everything they would say about me. My problems, my shortcomings, my issues. And I grew up thinking I was a bad person. A bad person who deserved every bad thing that happened to them. A bad person who wasn’t worthy. I hated myself for being such a bad person.
But now I know that that just isn’t true.
Having surrounded myself with loving friends and people in my life, I caught a glimpse of myself under a very different light. A more loving light. Under this light I was a good person. A loving person. A caring and beautiful person. Someone worthy. And it felt familiar. Like this was who I was all along.
I looked deeply into myself to prove that feeling was real. It hasn’t been easy changing your narrative after decades of growing up believing a different one. I haven’t completely turned things around. It feels much like a roller coaster ride. Some days are better, some worse.
It isn’t easy. This shit takes a really long fucking time.
But what matters is that I am making progress. I’m slowly redefining what the quote above means to me. I’m trying to separate the guilt and manipulation from those words and broadening its meaning to include other people in my life who genuinely love me for who I am and care about me--genetic linkage not withstanding.
I’m not sure how to conclude this piece. I’m tired and I need to go to bed. I will follow up on this topic with another piece/essay/rant/jumble of thoughts. For now, whoever is reading this, I hope you know that despite what you made yourself to believe growing up, you are good enough.
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
turnnoffyourmind