After reading this: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/Mickey-goodman/are-we-raising-a-generati_b_1249706.html
I guess here is a moment to do some personal reflection into my own life and maybe it might be helpful for anyone out there who reads this.
Growing up for me was pretty much normal in comparison to those I've talked to about their own experiences: awkwardness, uncertainty, mistakes, embarrassment, etc. etc... But the one thing that I know happens to more children than it should (but is a bit less common than the typical horror of growing up) happened to me. I didn't understand it, I thought it was my fault. I trusted an adult who took advantage of my innocence, which I know now isn't my fault. But to say that it hadn't affected the way I grew and developed would be a lie. It touched every aspect of my life from body-image and self-worth, to interpersonal relationship building and physical/mental health. To be blunt: it fucked me up for a long time. I thought it was my fault and that I was dirty. As a result I never spoke to my parents about what happened, I gladly swept it under the rug and tried to pretend I was ok and 'normal'. To everyone else it seemed that my grievances were normal teen upsets, my depression and anxiety were NOT because of what he did to me and not why I couldn't seem to trust anyone anymore. While inside I was developing like a tree next to a contaminated water supply, I was rotting away inside as I grew on the outside. I gladly welcomed the control and dominance of my mother because it took away any of the decision making process from myself. It enabled me to curl up inside myself and nurse the wounds I hid out of shame. It also let me drown. The best way I can describe my teen years is in german: Ich habe mich betäubt. I numbed or anesthetized myself by offering up my control. Besides, my own mother should know what's best, right? What happened during those years (from around 12-19) was a mixture of deprecation, shame, guilt, lies, delusion, and manipulation. She ran my life as if it were hers. It might as well have been hers because I definitely wasn't living. When I had moments of wanting to be independent I was made to feel incapable of doing so, I was guilted 'out of love' not to get a job because she wanted to protect me from the life she had and then when I voiced my want to gain any kind of independence she would claw at and guilt me back down. I still don't even have a driver's license as a result. Instead of allowing me to experience my own life she would dictate and manipulate everything from my lessons (which she attended and watched over like a smug hawk) to my friends. My weight, my appearance, my body...it was all up to her for criticism. I struggled with eating disorders and a severe case of body dysmorphia as a result of her intense obsession with making me look 'good' and 'female' and 'perfect'. If I was thin I received praise, if I played well I got hugs and flowers, but if I was or did neither I was criticized, made to feel ashamed, and coerced into trying harder at whatever thing she was throwing me into (usually flute competitions that I didn't want to be at regardless if I won). For her, showing affection was about buying things, complimenting me when I was thin, telling me that 'I'd be pretty if' (or, my favorite: "You'd have boys chasing you if.."), and taking away all my experiences so I wouldn't have to have any of them. If I ever had any opinion different than hers I was made to feel inferior and unintelligent, too young to be capable of important thoughts, so as to put me back in the box of who she wanted me to be: dependent, subservient, validating. I stayed quiet, I didn't come out, I let my body continue to be her puppet until I left for college.
With all that as a back story, you can guess how my first attempts at an independent college life turned out: pretty fucking shitty. I was so lost. She wasn't there to tell me what to do every second of the day and the hollow roots I had grown crumbled beneath me. I clamored for some kind of structure and flailed, which was very obvious to the professors and others that expected me to be self-sufficient like a 'normal' functioning adult, as I legally was one by then. So I let her keep calling the shots, writing my scholarships, signing my name, cashing my checks, and all because she made me believe I was incapable of doing those things without her. It was all made worse by the fact that she would complain about helping me, and then when I tried to take ownership and control back she would try and make me feel guilty by saying things like, "Don't you appreciate what I do for you?" or "Don't you love me?", "I just do this because I care." I couldn't win. Then is when I also found drugs (weed) and alcohol. The idea behind that was: if I can't control my life than at least I can control how out-of-control I am. Or at least forget about how out of control I am for a night. All the while realizing that I'm gay and struggling to fit that into my already fucked-up self-image. This set the stage perfectly for how I saw myself in relationships and let men, in particular, walk all over me. It was the perfect power dynamic for sexual assault to occur, and because I was so insecure and low self-esteem it made it even easier for shittier people to find and control me. After that happened I just spiraled out of control, searching for stability in anything.
It wasn't until sophomore year until I finally started gaining the strength to speak up for myself. I chopped off all my hair, pierced more holes into my face, got involved on campus in the LGBTQA- and women's- centers, and I started talking about my experiences. I came out to all my friends and eventually gained the strength to just be out. Things were great and I was finally starting to grow into myself and feel what it is to be a whole, independent person. When I finally came out to my mother I was prepared for how awful the experience would be but not for the aftermath and the slew of horrible things she sent my way on the daily. I was made to feel ashamed again for not dressing like a woman 'should', and invalidated in my convictions, "You just want to try and be a man." "You're just confused" "You wonder why men don't want you when you look and dress like that.." etc, etc...She refused to acknowledge my identity, let alone talk about it openly and lovingly. I wasn't the demure, quiet, subservient, obedient, straight girl she raised. I never was. I never will be. Slowly and steadily the only thing should could continue to control was my musical ability and expression. Because she had been the enabler for this my entire musical life, I never felt that it was fully and truly mine. I just didn't understand if the reason why I continue to play is because it's so much a part of me or because I was still operating on some kind of twisted, manipulative autopilot. I contemplated dropping out, or changing my major...dropped into the lower band for a term. What I learned there, while I was gaining dependence on the home front, is that I love being a musician. It is my air, my life. So I had to choose to either start taking control of it or hate it and forever associate it with all the badness I'd experienced.
I stopped including her in my life. Maybe that wasn't such a loving thing to do, but it was what I had to do. If you keep justifying an abusers actions and letting them in out of some kind of emotional obligation, they are just going to keep walking all over you. We don't have a good relationship now, and maybe that will change in the future. But at least now I know who I am and what I want and that I'm capable of achieving my goals independently. Gaining independence is hard, especially when you've been told all your life that it's selfish to want anything for yourself and made to feel like a child. So, if you are or have been experiencing something similar, here are some steps I think could help:
1. Seek counseling. It doesn't mean you're crazy, but having someone there to listen who is trained to help you out is a great way to start setting up a good foundation. They can also give you self-care pointers and network you up with some great places and resources. Seeking help is hard and it takes guts, but I promise it is worth it!
2. Branch out. Get involved and start listening/reading/speaking with others with shared/similar experiences. You're not alone. Start developing a close group of friends and a support network that believes in you and wants you to succeed.
3. Be honest with yourself about your experiences and how you feel. The worst thing for me was when I felt like something was wrong and I didn't feel like I could say no. If something doesn't feel right, you don't have to sit back and take it and be polite. Let your voice be heard, and if you feel like it would be dangerous or you don't feel comfortable to speak up then you still have your support network to fall back on.
4. Self-care. I dance because I've found that it is the best therapy I've ever known. Find moments of joy and celebrate them. Find friends that you can be your nerdy self around and dance with them :) But remember to take time for yourself and set boundaries. It's YOUR life and you have the power to decide what YOU want to do with it.
Whew! Writing this stuff is exhausting..but if y'all have any comments or similar stories then feel free to leave me a shout out. I'd love to talk to anyone who is willing and be of help to anyone struggling with anything similar (or not) to what I went through. It sucks to feel like you're the only one and that there's nobody out there that understands what it's like.
END.
PS If you have been sexually assaulted or are supporting someone who has been, check this out:
http://www.sass-lane.org/
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