Me Too ... But Not Really. (Emotional Abuse is Real, too)

The #metoo movement has been instrumental in bringing the light of awareness to sexual abuse, which is a beautiful step toward healing the world of some of the most inexcusable trauma that can be experienced by any sweet soul; the unconsensual, yet conscious violation of their personal space.

My heart goes out to everyone who has been brave enough to share their story of sexual abuse, because sharing that kind of trauma and allowing yourself to be seen and supported, is the only way to heal the shame that most abuse victims feel. Healing these wounds is essential in stopping the cycle of abuse that we see all too often.

To be honest, I didn't connect with the #metoo hashtag at first. I felt compassion for these warriors and their healing journeys, but I didn't feel a kinship with the concept of abuse. I felt as though I lived a pretty charmed kind of life, and that I have been so lucky to have not had my body unwillingly imposed upon by another person. I could only imagine how powerless and confused one must feel in that situation...

Then something clicked; every relationship I've had in my entire life HAS BEEN ABUSIVE, but it was invisible abuse. There were no bruises, but there are still scars that hinder me silently to this day.

Physical abuse was present for me as a kid in the form of spanking and being slapped across the face a few times, but I never thought of the physical assults as abuse because it wasn't "so bad," or what's worse, because I felt that deserved it, because I was being bad.

The more I realize that abuse actually was present in my life, the more forms of abuse I came to recognize as weaved throughout my childhood. But the thing is, the emotional abuse was so much harder to endure than a slap, and it was that emotional abuse that was part of my everyday life as a kid.

I struggle to share this because I really do feel that the trauma that I endured pales in comparison to what those who are on the #metoo journey have experienced.

The narcissistic abuse doled out by my mother in her over-whelmed, reactionary, unconscious ways really did shape me as a person, and I've only recently come to realize that the near constant anxiety I battle with is a result of a childhood spent in survival mode, because unfortunately, my father was also a codependent, and he was unable to protect me from my mother's and brother's rage and emotional neglect.

Any amount of physical abuse is not OK for an adult to inflict on a child, but what about all the ways children are punished by ridicule, shame, abandonment or neglect?

I'm starting to understand that I was abused, and I'm learning through much study, that although I know my parent's didn't mean to hurt me, the truth is, they did. And while I have deep appreciation for all they did to raise me, I also must make space to hold the hurt I've felt so that I can heal it. Because until I do, I'm going to keep seeing these abusing patterns in every relationship of my life.

This journey of uncovering unseen abuse is all still very over-whelming, and confusing, and I'm not sure just yet why I am being prompted to share this, but share I must.

The healing journey goes on from here...

May you and All beings find healing for their hurts.
Be well, beauty.
I'm always here if you need a sounding board for your story.
Just reach out.

Gramma.
xo