Today I found a plastic bowl that one of my boys stained up by using it in the microwave oven…They used something with tomato in it because I could tell by the stain. I started to throw the thing away, but couldn’t make myself do it. It elicited a train of though from me that I haven’t had in a long time.
People are quick to toss out things they view as “useless”. This includes people. People who may have had things happen to them. Most know my story so I won’t repeat it, but sharing it has cost me a great deal. People assume that girls who go through what I endured are “damaged” and they want nothing to do with the issue . There are those who simply wish I wouldn’t talk about it because it disturbs their comfort zone.
Oh well, so be it. The fact of the matter is that I have decided that I have endured much of the abuse I suffered as a child because some other kid might not have survived it long enough to tell the tale. If telling my tale helps one child, then the critics and naysayers can all quite frankly kiss my ass.
This “damaged” vessel tells kids that they should never be afraid to keep telling someone until they are listened to. Period!
I have ended relationships because I could tell that the man I was with had a problem with how I deal with my own issues. Most of them didn’t want to “share me” anymore. They began to isolate me from family and friends and I know exactly what that leads to because my own abusers did the same thing to me as a child–so yes, I know the warning signs and I don’t fall for those lines any longer.
On the other hand, I know that one day another person will cross into my path that will realize that the person I am today is in spite of what happened to me–not because of what happened. I could have done a 180 and became a totally cruel, sardonic bitch, but I didn’t. I did become a realist. When a person takes the time to accept me as I am, he will have my heart–and not a minute sooner. He will encourage rather than abase me. He will lift me up rather than knock me down emotionally. And he will work alongside me rather than try to constantly control me. He will let me fly rather than try to put me in his cage. In short, he won’t try to turn me into a creature that I can never be–and I will return to him that kindness.
By the way, I didn’t toss the bowl since it will come in handy–and besides, it’s less crap for the landfill. One of these days people will learn that ceramic bowls may break, but they are easier to clean. Once broken, you have to toss them.
I will never be broken.