TW: Abuse/Intimate Partner Violence/Domestic Abuse

Loyalty, love, exhaustion, anger, and resentment are the words that come to mind when I think of the women in my life. The leos that raised me were fierce, God fearing, …and broken. 

I never saw self love demonstrated when I was a child. In fact, all I ever really saw was self sacrifice. My Gran took care of all her kids, her sick husband, and her special needs brother. The weight of caretaking was hers only to carry until they either passed away, or didn't need her anymore. After fleeing an abusive marriage with my father, my mom followed in my Grans footsteps as a caretaker, and raised my sister and I as a single mom. Despite my sister’s wild spirit, she was assigned a role she had not signed up for of being my caretaker. This made my sister resent me, because I never really felt the wrath of my mom. Although, I was terrified of her all the same. My sister would abuse me when my mom was gone to work, always playing way too rough, beating on me, or scaring me by telling me Bloody Mary or the boogie man would get me in the dark. To this day, I am still afraid of the dark, and sleep with a flashlight sometimes. I was afraid of my sister, just like I was my mom, so I always conceded to her request. This happened constantly, and really shaped how I gave and received love moving forward.

My dad played a part in this story as well, in short, he was absent. He lived in the same town as us, only 12 minutes away. He would pick me and my sister up every other weekend, and conveniently have to work the entire time we were there. So we were to stay home with his wife, and her two daughters. My sister and I were both wildly jealous of our step sisters, because they got to spend everyday with OUR dad (or so we thought). My step mom wasn't a very kind woman, she was so hard, and I couldn't understand why my dad would marry her instead of staying with my mom. For most of my childhood, even into my teen years, I always dreamed my parents would get back together. I've always been such a romantic, and a dreamer. As an adult, I realize that my step mom wasn't unkind at all, she was just tired of being the sole caretaker. Just like my Gran, my mom, and my sister.

Though I could explain some of the terrible love stories I’ve experienced, what has been consistent is how they’ve replayed the dynamic women (and men) in my life presented to me. To me, love was self sacrifice, it was painful, it wasn't self seeking, love gave and gave and gave. And even when love was hurting you, it was because it loved you so much it wanted you to feel the pain it held. And then love leaves. It never stays, love always abandons you. Always.

Church, and everything I knew about Jesus also played a major role in my relationships and how I viewed love. For as long as I can remember I have always looked up to Jesus. I idolized the way he loved others, performed miracles, healed people, and then ultimately sacrificed his life because he loved us humans so much. What an epic example of pure love, right? So when I met my youngest son's father at church I figured if it was ordained by God, it had to be real. He was so kind, attentive, and romantic toward me at first. He love bombed me to the point I ignored every red flag that was clearly waving vigorously in front of my eyes. 

I have tried for a long time to block out all of the mental, verbal, sexual, and physical abuse I suffered in that relationship. It's baffling to me the things I put up with at that time in my life, but it also makes sense. Being in a relationship with an abused person who took their pain and anger out on me echoed what I endured from my sister, what she endured from my mom, and what my mom saw happen in her own childhood. The cycle of generational trauma is prominent in my family, and in the Black community in general.

I have been in therapy for years now, and I am just now putting what I've learned into practice. I have finally come into an awareness that I have been replaying my childhood trauma in every relationship I've ever been in. That I have an anxious attachment style, and I am drawn to avoidant men who make me feel the same as I did as a child. Undervalued, ignored, abused, and abandoned. I have finally decided to give myself the love I have so desperately been seeking from others.

The healing journey has not been easy. Society likes to glamorize self care and healing, and make it seem like all you have to do is write affirmations, take some deep breaths, and you're cured.  But it really isn't cute. Sitting and dealing with yourself on a daily basis, focusing on your healing, and learning to love yourself is a treacherous, but necessary process. It can be really ugly, and painful going back to those memories that molded who you are. But it's necessary when you are rebuilding yourself into who YOU want to be. 

Some activities that have been really helpful to me is breathwork. I am almost always anxious, and taking regular breaks to breathe and return to myself has been tremendously helpful. Keeping a journal is also very cathartic. I write all kinds of things in my journal: letters to people I am angry with, lists of ways I can love myself, things I've accomplished, how I feel about things that are happening along my healing journey. My journal has become my best friend, and the thing I can be my most honest and vulnerable self with. I also have to move my body every day, stretching, pilates, long walks, and dancing are some of my favorites. 

They say when you heal yourself, you heal your mother, you heal your daughter, and every woman around you. The pain, abuse, and self sacrifice stops with me. I don't blame the women in my life any longer for the things I endured by their hands. Instead, I set them free as they navigate their own healing journey and learn to love themself. I have always been a highly sensitive person, feeling energies, and having a clairvoyant awareness that scared me a little. I now see my sensitive nature as my super power, and lean into my own softness proudly calling ease into my life. I chose myself daily, I love myself, flaws and all. So it is...

"I'm sensitive, I feel everybody. One wo(man) standing on two words...heal everybody..."

-Kendrick Lamar (Mother I Sober)