Has someone ever made you feel completely worthless? Do you know they project their own unworthiness upon you? They will tear you completely down in order to build themselves up. That’s the empowerment they need to feel. Well, just to feel something, anything.
As a person with elevated super traits of agreeableness, tolerance, compassion, trusting, empathy and the list goes on, we become a target, the prey that these predators long for, need and seek out to find, possess and eventually… destroy for their sick pleasure of watching you suffer. They glorify in the fear they inflict and revel in your pain.
This is sadism at its sickest.
The only way to overcome the affects of this torturous lifestyle you’ve been a victim of, is to educate yourself so you can become smarter than they are sick. During the early stages of your healing recovery process you will begin to see all the ways in which you were misused and abused. It isn’t your fault. Because of your elevated loving super traits, you want to believe that others in this world are as you are, but sadly, those ones are not and never can be.
When you can finally come to terms with, it isn’t that they won’t change who they are, it is that they can’t, you will begin to breathe again. Personalities are hardwired and these predators are exactly that, animals. They have but one mission, to fuel their every need with the supply you provide.
Sitting with my 10 1/2 year old granddaughter as she’s doing 5th grade history homework, she reads passages to me and abruptly stops to declare, “that’s not right Grammy!” Clearly she’s upset, knowing her as well as I do, she expresses her opinion about the paragraph she just read. “They’re not Indians, that’s not okay to say. I’m not writing that for my answer.” My heart, warmed by her compassion and directness, I explained first that “history” is what we’re being told because we didn’t live back then. She balked at that, but then I commended her for being appalled and asked her what her preference is to fill in the blank on her paper. She said she would just write Americans. Then I handed her the missing tool and suggested she add Native to her answer. She smiled, agreed and wrote her new choice.
While I try to be cognitive of teachable moments and what I often find is I’m not always the teacher, regardless of someone’s age. We talked a little more about this. I praised her for standing on her convictions, beliefs and using her voice. I thought to myself how oppression has been the downfall of my life, hence the internal struggle. I can only imagine the horrific stories from history and particular heritages, what they encountered and endured.
The topic of evolving took place with her next. We aren’t where we once were, but we aren’t yet where (I hope) we are going either. That’s being a difference maker, I explained. Not just standing by, quietly accepting the unacceptable or tolerating intolerance. Tell me more about your heart, I asked her. Never dismiss or fear the true words, thoughts and feelings of a child (or adult) because given a safe space, they will always honor their truth.
Is it merely human nature or even the human condition that we make up stories in our own minds, judging others for why they are in the spot they are in in life? It happens all the time, the assumption of another’s choices and blaming them for why they are in this or that predicament when the reality is, we can’t possibly know their story without asking them. We simply don’t know what we don’t know. (wisdom from my wise 87 year old friend)
Taking a moment to understand someone else as I listen to their thought provoking perspective makes me smile in gratitude. Being right is far less important to me than loving someone where they are. That being said, I leave you with this mantra; I’ll be quiet (not silent), you can be right and I’ll be happy. There is no price tag on civility and Serenity, but there sure as shootin’ is a cost for close mindedness.
If God (insert your personal Source here) meant for us to pray and believe only one way, why did He create so much diversity? Love is love for humankind. Be the change you want to see. Fear less by being fearless. I’m proud of my (almost 5) grand-youngsters and what their parents (my kids) are teaching them about equality and human rights. It’s a beautiful thing to witness.
She was tenacious when it came to believing what she thought she needed, and that was him. Far beyond their expiration date and her tolerance of his neglect and torment she clung. White knuckling the life she fantasized, the tighter her grip, the more relentless he became. The addiction cycle prevailed as the destruction and demise ensued.
Breathing had transformed into a chore, labored and choking. His twisted beliefs ravaged her every thought, move and decisions that were no longer hers to make. He had devoured her and she was consumed. Her immediate response to his touch, his words and especially his body language, was to never disappoint him while completely betraying herself.
She had found herself tethered to this neurotic, sadistic human, whom she would discover was really an empty, wounded, broken shell. His pain inside ignored heightened his desire to inflict it upon her. Emotionally, physically and especially psychologically as he pulled her cuffs tighter, his noose around her neck cinched as she gulped. She was his kept property.
How could she break free of the restraints and stay by his side? She could only dream, and that’s all she ever did. Her body was not her own. She had long since detached from it. How else could she endure this life she found herself in?
He was good at this game. Distracting her from her own mind. Convoluting his words while mincing them with his actions. Was she crazy? Could he be right? Did she not hear what he truly meant? Her brain on fire as she worked to read between the transcripts of their one sided conversations. He’s a bully, she thought to herself. More than the mean kid on the playground. Is that where it started with him? She wondered.
She struggled daily to analyze the two of them. Her heart longed for what it could never receive. Her brain constantly reconciling with what was happening. Maybe he’s right. She is the broken little girl inside after all. She must be the one who needs fixing so she will continue to abide by his every rule and expectation of her. Keep working for his love, attention and affection is what she told herself.
This ball of yarn, tattered and worn, had become her sacred space to cling to now. Somewhere, deeply within it, was holding her hope. How will she find it and retrace her way back? She knows she has battle scars and wounds running deep. She didn’t come out of this unscathed, but going from victim to survivor has been her only goal these days. She’ll keep talking and writing until that skein is down to its last bit of what has her bound still. Until then, she’ll do what it takes to unravel the mass of devastation. His secretive ways being revealed, unveiling them for her sanity, saving her soul.
A big stretch up to the sky as dawn kisses her cheek. Good morning she says, aloud to the silence. She greets each day with a grateful heart. Deep breath in and a long exhalation of the past that sometimes haunts her still.
With another gift, an abundance of love, she questions the validity of her life. Her purpose she thought she once knew, rendered obsolete, nothing was true. Being reminded by this fragrance and that special place, letting go isn’t so easy, but necessary to keep on breathing.
Today is less about the loss of what was as more emphasis is put on the freedom she is reluctant to feel, but now is. She watches them while she sees the light flicker in their eyes. Others who pay her the attention she was always instructed to ignore. She smiles back at them now and then, yet inside, deeply feeling rejection towards all.
Too soon or too late, she is where she is, growing and learning simply wanting new friends. No longer seeking that white knighted, makeshift alpha or fake savior. Becoming comfortable with her own company while she continues to blossom and bloom. They don’t understand, although some say they do, that her completeness comes from the brokenness within.
You set the pace in this rugged little rat race I turned for a moment stuck in the torment This seductive game I couldn’t be contained Shrewd yet so weak pretending I was meek Calling your bluff in your ridiculous cuffs Rolling my eye no more tears left to cry Pathetic to any shunned by many Digging your way down buried underground I laugh at you now with your furrowing brow Disapproval lashing about fuck off hear my shout This battle is over the war won covers me in clover Flourishing in joy no longer your ragged little toy Dead soul torn apart what once held your heart You’ve lost much more than I gave you credit for Etched upon my brain your turn to feel such pain It all began with you telling me nothing ever true Blood boiling red your skin peeling so to shed Addiction is your enemy but I however am set free Taunt me more believe what you don’t know Hell is where you reside not a soul on your side Only in the wake of your demise you fall not rise Me on the other hand unstoppable taking a stand Tell me again once more with conviction about honor respect and love Oh wait that’s right yours is only a contradiction You taught me more than I ever bargained for Let me praise Him for pushing me out the door Stop listening to his demands Only the righteous One commands The world will shout but the Man whispers about “Get off his back Get out of God’s way Get on with your life” Get it? Got it? Good!
Strangled by oppression, eventually anger will build and pool in the very soul that was created in love. Out of fear and doubt, the inability to speak, my insides cry and lash out. Why can’t I exhume my deepest thoughts? What I say matters, intellectually inspiring, there is so much to share.
Convicted as a child with emotions to express, ridiculed for feeling, thinking, with wants needs and desires. This would carry on and haunt me like the enemy adores, but God is my one and only, He blessed me with an almighty voice. Choosing to write is what’s saved my own life.
A reflection of what I’ve been carrying around, the pen flows my truth, saving me from being buried underground. At times there are poems rhyming and sometimes not. Uncomfortable to some, embraced by those who aren’t fearful nor flee. My words unbound placed upon my heart. The freedom to shed that has both kept me together and torn me apart.
Truly a masterpiece, His prized work in this aspiring vessel. His Mercy and Grace bringing forth what has been nestled. Now I can see it, my truest self worth I’ve always hidden. Staying this course will revise how I’ve lived, protecting the gifts I’ve been given.
There are people I love and things that I need, but in the end, I always receive everything I believe. When I stop chasing after those who run and hide, I am equipped to move towards what beckons from inside.
Back. Back from where? Was she ever really lost or just misguided? Her path obsolete, or obstructed? Her eyes lost sight of You. Her heart led astray, she gazes into darkness. What’s that strange glow over there? She wondered if she were to follow, where it would take her instead.
Alone. Could she even imagine? Her heart pounding with anticipation. Fear rises in her chest. Her breath gasps all the while as her feet press on. Trust this road. Strange as it may feel. Unsteady, untraveled, yet somehow safer, more will be revealed.
Brighter. The air smells clean. Her lungs catch the depth of her inhalation, taking another gulp. Releasing the toxins, her long exhalation, she sneaks one more and smiles. Even her vision, no longer impaired as she drinks in all the beauty in front of her.
Beckoning. The force pulls her. Unlike any she’s experienced before. This is sweeter, gentler, safer. “This way,” a soft whisper in her ear, “be the change you want to see”.
Puzzled. She shakes off the lies, pulls the constraints, flips the tape over to hear a different story. The one where she shines before her light went dim.
Solitude. She goes within. Silently she sits at last. Longer stretches of time pass. That awaited breath flows like never before. This must be what peace feels like.