“A proper grown-up communicates clearly and assertively.”
Many people have said this to me.
By that definition, I wouldn’t have classed as a proper grown-up for most of my life.
There was a time when I couldn’t even ask someone for a glass of water. It may seem crazy to others, but I felt crazy for a very long time.
Why couldn’t I do the things others did without even thinking about it? Why couldn’t I just say what I needed to say? Why couldn’t I just be normal?
These questions only fueled the spiral of shame I was in at that point in my life.
The question I should have asked myself is not how to overcome being damaged and flawed but rather how my struggles make sense in light of how I was raised.
On the basis of that, I was perfect, and my behavior made perfect sense.
I was that child who was taught not to hear but only to see.
I was that child who was made to fit into the mold, no matter what.
I was that child whose emotions made others angry or violent.
I was a child whose anger caused her to be shamed and rejected from the person who she needed most.
I was the child that got hit again and again until she didn’t cry anymore.