I've been misunderstood my whole life. Or at least it feels that way.
Let's be clear, I'm not complaining about how other people see or perceive me, but rather my own perceptions about me.
I assume when I was very young -- before the abuse -- I had a relatively good understanding of who I was. At least as much as any 3-4 year old can. But when the bad things started happening, it played havoc with my understanding and perception. Good people weren't always good. People lied. Nice people would hurt me for no apparent reason. I seemed to be misunderstanding a lot of things.
I kept misunderstanding what was happening to me and especially why it was happening, so it changed my whole perspective on how I was supposed to function in life. Instead of sharing what I wanted and needed, I came to the conclusion that the most important thing was to figure out what everyone else wanted from me. If I could do that, clearly they would quit hurting me. Not just quit hurting me, but love me, as I was and for who I was.
The reality of it all was that I wasn't the one being misunderstood. I was the one misunderstanding. I was taking on responsibility for other people's actions -- actions that no one could really understand -- and by doing that I was trying to control what other people did.
It's taken years and years to learn that the only person I can control is me. I can only control how I react to another person's words or actions. It seems so simple when it's typed on the page, but it's been a tough lesson to learn and hold on to.
I've learned to be specific, especially when I feel misunderstood, but I've also learned that just because I'm misunderstood, it may not always be my fault. And that's when it's time to walk away.
linking up with Writer's Workshop and Just Write