Growing up, I was my father's daughter -- the second one. He was well known and well liked (as far as I knew), so there were worse people to be. The stress came from needing to be perfect so as not to disappoint him. I worked hard to say the right things, think the right things, be interested in the right things, do the right things. A lot of my struggle and confusion came from not knowing who determined the "rightness" of everything.
Later I became my husband's wife. I moved from my father's house to "our" house, but I was still playing a role. Trying to be the model wife I saw growing up, and at the same time trying to be the wife I thought my husband wanted me to be. It was tough trying to merge what turned out to be somewhat opposing pictures.
Then I became their mother. First my daughter -- a precocious red head. Then my son -- the premature, squalling baby. Everyone seemed to think I could read these babies' minds. If there was a problem or discord, I was supposed to know what was wrong and fix it. I couldn't do it.
Eventually all that striving caught up with me. I shut down.
I went to talk to a counselor.
I found out I had to quit hiding behind other peoples' lives and live my own.
It meant digging through some really nasty rubble.
It took thinking that rubble was my identity for a while to get to where I am now.
The truth is, my identity is made up of all those things that I survived, all the people who have walked through my life, all the people who have stayed in my life.
My identity is who I am today -- a child of God, a survivor of abuse, a wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend. Not different people, but pieces of one whole person.
Yes, I can really relate to this "identity quest."
ReplyDeleteAnd I love your conclusion. Indeed, a man is more than the sum of his deeds. (Woman, too.)
Didn't Anne Lamott say something like, "I am all the ages I have ever been"? This reminded me of that.
May we all find ourselves, not in the doing, but in the being. Blessed by stopping in here!
"not different people, but pieces of one WHOLE person." just letting that turn around in my mind. i like it.
ReplyDeletethanks for sharing,
steph
pieces of one whole person... this is such an enlightened and positive post, melanie. i feel you shining in it. healing is happening in the deeper places, because you are letting God the father speak to those abandoned and bruised parts. thank you for sharing this friend. you are beautiful.
ReplyDeleteit took thinking that the rubble was my identity to get to where I am now -- it is hard to find ourselves in the pieces. So thankful that you are sharing your journey of healing, of finding wholeness.
ReplyDeletei am glad that you were able to find yourself in there...where we find our identity will def determine the quality of of our lives...
ReplyDeleteI just really loved being able to see, at last, your beautiful face.
ReplyDeleteYou are becoming a victor instead of a victim, and I believe God is going to use you to help others who've been wounded.
ReplyDeleteMelanie, this is such a powerful post! Your courage will help so many others to be brave enough to deal with the rubble. I admire you for finding the strength to face the realities of the past, to tear down Satan's lies that held you captive for so long, for standing in agreement with the truths of God's Word and His everlasting love for you, and for sharing your struggle to remain in the freedom that He offers one day at a time. Thank you seems so inadequate.
ReplyDeleteYou did a great job putting words to what most of us do at one point or another. It's so important to remember we all have our own rubble to dig through.
ReplyDeleteCounseling. Everybody should get the opportunity to have perspective to live life more fully.
ReplyDeleteIt's interesting how many people base their identities on their relationships with others. I see this often on people's short "About Me's" on their blogs or Twitter accounts.
ReplyDelete