Truth Comes Out

The past few days have been emotionally draining in more ways than one. Mainly something from my past came out to someone close to me. It was something I hoped he would never find out to do with his dad.

I realize now keeping it from him was wrong. I had my reasons but that doesn't mean it was ok. For one, he was young at the time. Too young to be told something like that. Two, I knew my brother was safe. For three, I spent years being afraid he hated me for leaving home. I had no clue what our mom and his dad had told him, but I assumes whatever it was, he likely wouldn't want anything to do with me again.

I found out a long time ago that fear was unfounded and my brother is older now. By the time I knew he was old enough to talk about those things with, I still didn't want to. I didn't want to shatter his view of his father and I felt it wasn't my place to do it. I also wasn't sure he would believe me at the time.

He always knew I had 'issues' with his father but he thought it was only because of his parenting. He even thought I left home at 16 because of his dads parenting. Apparently, a small piece of the truth came out to him recently and he came to me looking for answers.

I don't blame him for that. I understand why he needs them and I apologized to him. I also explained my reasoning which I think he understands. He did tell me he deserved to know what kind of man his father really was though.

The sad part is, he's right but I had no idea how to tell him without possibly damaging our relationship as brother and sister. I wasn't sure he would believe me, and if he did, would I be responsible for ruining his view of his dad?

I'm still not sure how I feel about my brother now having a better idea of what I went through. On one hand, I think a part of me is relieved that he knows the truth. On the other hand, it means revisiting a part of my life I have tried to bury.

I know burying it isn't healthy but sometimes it's painful to think about. It's also somewhat cathartic. I guess overall, I'm emotionally and mentally exhausted. Once again, I find myself coming here, to get out my thoughts so I can better focus and try to get things off my chest.

Pain is part of all of us and it has a hand in shaping us. The pain I went through at other peoples hands has made me what I am. I try to take that pain and turn it into strength. While I would have preferred not to have gone through the things I did, I'm also somewhat thankful for it in a strange way.