The win and the loss

[Copabanana]

that our mothers were women who could not love anyone?

I am thinking here of the ugliness at the end with my mother's boyfriend of more than 20 years. He had bequeathed to her in his will the only thing he really had of value at the end, putting her name on it, as part or whole owner. His car. But having put her name on it, when he needed to allow his caretaker to drive it, there was restrictions. He needed my mother to sign a paper from DMV restoring to him full ownership. My mother was fearful to do it.

My mother was always seeking material advantage. To her love was that. She was hated by this man's kids, because she refused to restore to them a diamond bracelet that had been their mother's that the man had gifted to her. She refused outright no matter how much the man suffered. Eventually she lied and said she had lost it. The drama of this went on for months and months. When the man could not bring her to family gatherings for holidays, she would feel sorry for herself. She wanted it both ways. One hundred percent wanted and loved, and one hundred percent able to feed off everybody unrestricted by censure or rejection.

So when I arrived at my mother's house one of the first things I tackled was going to the DMV to get the paperwork for changing ownership of the boyfriend's car. M and I stood for hours in line without result. The man called and called. I explained to him I was trying to do what he needed. He became irate, screaming at me. M saw my face and took the phone. The man began screaming at him in English and M heard him say, "dirty Mexican." We said goodbye and hung up. He could not or would not understand that my plate was full, and I was still trying to help him. Eventually I was able to make the transfer of ownership.

My mother had then gone from the hospital to rehab. She said the boyfriend's belligerence she had seen before but not to her. She felt bad and could not understand how a man, the child of immigrants, a despised group could do the same to others. The way of the world, I said. I told her the boyfriend wanted to hear from her, and wanted to visit. She said, "what for?" And there ended a 20 year plus relationship. The man had been devoted to her. He had been her most constant support, to the extent that he cooked for her and brought her Jewish food every week so that she could eat food from her youth. She would tell me about it. He also shopped for her and brought her fresh produce. Until over 90 years old he drove LA freeways more than an hour each way to see her, and she would not let him sleep over.

This is the nature of love that I grew up with.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

so, understanding this, knowing the "win" is not ever achieved by folks like my sis, it is more about trying desperately to fill a void within themselves, that only they can fill, by loving themselves.

I agree with this. But it is not cool to abuse others because you don't love yourself AND DENY IT. I am not perfect and did some wrongful things, but I own them and know it. I have NEVER heard or seen my sis ever say, "I was wrong" or "I was wrong too" or even "maybe calling the police was a bit hasty, but I was mad." I get her being mad. I know how to make people mad, as does she. Mother taught us both well and, if she is honest, she would admit she knows how to do this.

At any rate, my point is, it is not up to our sisters to make us happy and it's not up to us to make them happy. I believe that mine is still not very contented with her life or her choices. I made some horrible choices too, but, as I got older, they became much less often. This is not the case for Sis. She has not made good decisions for her own life and it is not my responsibility to do so. And when i tried, by refusing to listen to or enable her when she discussed her four/five relationship with a man she admitted freely abused her over and over again...well, you know how well enabling works. Then suddenly she didn't want to talk to me because I set a boundary with her and you know the rest. You have seen the rest first hand.

 

[BusynMember]

My mother was always seeking material advantage. To her love was that. She was hated by this man's kids, because she refused to restore to them a diamond bracelet that had been their mother's that the man had gifted to her. She refused outright no matter how much the man suffered. Eventually she lied and said she had lost it.

Sadly, Copa, although I know there was good in your mother, this does not speak well of her. There was no reason for her not to give this man peace of mind and family harmony and a love of money is in my opinion a cover for poor values coupled with inwardly low self esteem. "If I drive that BMW everyone will admire or be jealous of me. I would NEVER drive that old car." Etc, etc. "Oh, boy! My friends will envy this diamond bracelet and that's more important than my SO's peace of mind."

 

[New Leaf]

The man began screaming at him in English and M heard him say, "dirty Mexican." We said goodbye and hung up. He could not or would not understand that my plate was full, and I was still trying to help him. Eventually I was able to make the transfer of ownership.

You still took the time and energy to make things right Copa, even though this man vented his anger on you and M. That says a lot about what a good person you are.

This is the nature of love that I grew up with.

I am sad about this. It is a sad thing. I am amazed at how you came through this Copa, to be the person you are, and accomplish the things you have. leafy

 

[BusynMember]

The man began screaming at him in English and M heard him say, "dirty Mexican."

This says volumes about the boyfriend too. Ugh.

 

[BusynMember]

This is the nature of love that I grew up with.

My family was not materialistic. In fact, my parents did not like to spend money. Neither dressed well and my mother did not go to beauty parlors and did not wear jewelry or even nice clothes.We did not have an "enviable" type car. Our house was void of furniture in the living room most of my years living there. People made comments, but that was how they were. I remember sitting on the floor near a heating vent in the winter as there were no chairs and it was cold in the house (they probably kept the heat way down too). Were we poor? Hardly.

But we grew up in a rich neighborhood where most people wanted to let everyone know just HOW rich they were. All around us I absorbed those values, although I rejected them and couldn't wait to move when I left the family home. During the Jewish holidays, it was interesting to see, in warm or hot September, women walking in mink stoles and high heels to temple, which was about a mile away. Not at all practical. To show off to their neighbors.

 

[New Leaf]

I agree with this. But it is not cool to abuse others because you don't love yourself AND DENY IT. I am not perfect and did some wrongful things, but I own them and know it.

I feel the same way Serenity, there is no excuse to use, or abuse others, just exploring what the heck could be underneath it all.

At any rate, my point is, it is not up to our sisters to make us happy and it's not up to us to make them happy. I

I agree, wholeheartedly.

And when i tried, by refusing to listen to or enable her when she discussed her four/five relationship with a man she admitted freely abused her over and over again...well, you know how well enabling works.

Yup, and it is a shame, the ending of that story. But, you are better off for it, Serenity, to not have to constantly watch your back, and try to figure out the next move. This is what I may be stepping into, in the near future. I hope not, but it seems it may be the case.......Thank you Serenity, for your thoughts.....leafy

 

[Copabanana]

My friends will envy this diamond bracelet and that's more important than my SO's peace of mind."

It was not this. She did not compete with others. It was not about status for my mother. She had an absolute sense of her value. She was the favorite child, beloved by both parents. She had always been beautiful but did not mourn at all as she died, in the last months, the loss of her beauty. I guess she could care less at that point (although the remarkable thing was in death she was beautiful again.)

She wanted everything for herself. That was her price. Everything. And nothing for you. It was an essential selfishness. She was covetous, not competitive.

Like how I talk about value. She was envious of women who had more and better stuff especially if it came from men. Or children. But she never thought she was less than. Only that she deserved more.

My whole life I felt I deserved less or nothing at all. Because my mother maintained that she deserved it all. And so did my sister.

I know what my mother was, Serenity. It was as much a shock to me as anything in my life how much I loved her. I am learning that this speaks to my ability and willingness to love, as anything else. I am stunned by how I developed this capacity when so little pure love I received. But I had to guard my heart like a safe, because I was so easily hurt. I was so frightened my whole life to love. My poor heart had been so injured. Sad for me. Sad for us.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

I was so frightened my whole life to love. My poor heart had been so injured. Sad for me. Sad for us.

I am so sorry, Copa.

You are a brave, kind, loving woman. You deserve everything you want.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

The epitome of all scarves is a Hermes. I bought one on ebay.

May you look and feel beautiful when you wear it, Copa.

I was stunned at the tone of the letter. The love. I had never in my life received a letter with such an open heart. It was as if to enter the letter was to be enveloped with love. It was the most generous letter I can recall reading in my life. Generous with self. When I say it was a love letter, it conjures up the sense of something inappropriate so I will clarify that it was a "mother love letter."

I got angry reading it. And at the same time I chided myself. I got angry because I felt the cruelty at how he treated me and that I did not deserve it. And then I realized yet again how that might be a large part of it. How does an adult son leave such a love? He can only fight his way out of it. Which he did.

I am pleased for you, Copa.

After so long a time, we forget or begin to disbelieve how generous and perfectly intact our lives were, when we lived our lives with our children before the trouble came.

At first I envisioned myself in certain NY activities, as not good enough, not as good as the ladies who were there with me. Which is the justification I have used for all of this buying. So I look like I am enough.

Copa, this is true. You envisioned beginning a lifestyle in which these markers of knowledge and graceful presence and status matter very much, especially at first.

I think you were brilliant to have prepared as you have. But three perfect scarves would be just right. No less than perfect scarves, at all. Such things do matter. It depends on which jungle you choose.

I feel sad for myself who still cannot give herself order and cleanliness in her lovely home.

Is it compassion you feel, Copa?

We are moving very fast, now.

Cedar

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

It will always be a game to them, and the trick is, I think, not to be a pawn on their chessboard.

A...game, of black and of white mitered Bishops
played on a Board universally black
The white Child steps forward ~
steps forward; never
look back

In a way, looking back turns us into pillars of salt. That is what we are about here on FOO Chronicles maybe. Bringing a blush of life into the cheeks of the frozen in time, pillar of salt self. We have to be very strong to counter the imagery of self our abusers will have hurt into us for their stupidly reprehensible "win".

As I am coming through this part, I am hurt by the cheapness of the thing won; hurt by the unbelievable worthlessness of the things bought with my pain.

Copa, somehow this figures in to what you are doing in your internet buying. I am certain this is part of your healing. I remember your posting about the jewelry; about its meaning and value and whether it had been given and to whom.

I am tearing up now because I am recalling the buying of scarves to establish my value. I feel very sad for us, each of us, who never knew what it was to be loved by a mother in the way we loved our children. I feel sad for the women we were and are who walked through the world without the armor of a sense of securely held value and may still. (I will have my Hermes scarf to protect me. I do not even care if it is ugly.) I feel sad for myself who still cannot give herself order and cleanliness in her lovely home.

Copa, you are extending mercy to yourself.

Sacred ground.

I am so pleased for you, Copa.

***

I am hurt that they (my own mother; my own sister) do not love me. But I love me, now. Like Copa is too, I am beginning to fall in love with me, now.
But I needed to be away from them for a very long time before I could begin to see myself with mercy; before I could believe even get it that love and contempt and the fear of the shunning do not have to be all we allow ourselves.

I needed to confess what had happened to me at their hands; I needed to learn why it happened. Was it me? (A version of: Who is the liar here, me or...could it possibly be my mother?!?)

To do that, I had to risk learning that I was worth no more than they'd taught me.

It was surprising, to realize they were wrong. Once I understood the nature of the wrongness committed against me, I began to heal.

Tomorrow will find me
a prisoner
Locked from sight
from scent and sound
of you.

It was like that.

***
Copa...in your professional life you worked with imprisoned people.

Might this be a valuable imagery for you to explore? I remember your posting that you felt no fear; that what you felt was love. Could it be that you were finding value in and coming to love the imprisoned parts of yourself?

***

I have so little control over most things, and no control at all over the value they place on me. It seems I no longer seek their forgiveness for thinking as I do, now. Interestingly enough, I no longer grant them my own.

In that I am healing, there is nothing to forgive...and none of this matters.
Because (maybe this is true) they are not who I believed they were, either.
Just as they must believe I will always be someone who could be hurt into whatever they require by shunning me and reappearing to threaten me with more and then, shunning me again. (I am thinking about Serenity's sister. The way she mistreated you Serenity, but at the same time kept reappearing. Like a spider in the bathtub. That sudden, scary feeling.) This time, because of FOO Chronicles and by my own choice too ~ and by my bravery too you guys, in facing up to some pretty scary stuff (well, your bravery too, but we are taling about me, here :O) ~ I see both them and myself so differently, now.
Just something that happened, once. I am thinking this must be a form of denial, must be a way to incorporate what I've lost with what I have left. I am grieving the loss of my mother, and of my sister. I am grieving the life I believed myself into holding faith with. In so many ways, I cannot believe these terrible things have happened to me.

But they did.

That is why we have to be as honest about things as we can while we are healing. Once we come through it, the only thing we have is ourselves. It isn't that the loss of my own mother and my own sister are unimportant to me, or that I don't feel the sting of them, gone out of my life even in my hopes for the future. It feels more like I hoped good things, but those things are behind me, now.

It's kind of like Joseph and the coming out of slavery, Copa.

But I am not all the way through and think I might only be at the beginning of this part.

I will read Joseph and the slavery story, again. But it feels less important to figure out what happened, why it happened, how it could be that they don't love me.

it is more about trying desperately to fill a void within themselves, that only they can fill, by loving themselves.

It is a very hard thing to learn to love ourselves if we have been taught, by a parent or a mate or a sister or brother or friend or employer ~ or by someone in a volunteer organization ~ that we merit contempt. Contempt is the secret cut abusive people routinely employ. Maybe the answer there is what they say: Have nothing to protect. A person would have to be very well adjusted to have nothing to protect. When I write about my family of origin excluding instead of including, I am writing about a family which employs contempt as its fulcrum, instead of love. It could be that the primary abuser has been held in contempt so thoroughly and so routinely that they cannot love themselves. This could account for their cruelty. But whatever it is, when we are targeted by those who hold us in contempt, we have only two options: to feel the shame of what has happened to us and work through it until we have nothing to defend from and thus, nothing to protect (and here, the danger is that our senses of self will come to be held hostage to the merciless initial abuser ~ which is what happened to us, I think), or to pretend we weren't hurt and aren't bleeding.

But we are bleeding.

Something must be done...but, what?

How to heal from what has happened to us?

***

Once upon a time, in a faraway land where time and distance had lost all meaning, there were born to the peasantry a generation of female children whose task and whose talent it would be to unravel the tangled skeins of deceit, viciousness, and trickery that bound the hearts, the souls, and the bloodlines of those families into which each would be born.

I always believed that story meant we would all come through it, healed.

But that isn't what it says, is it. It only says we will know.

Cedar

 

[New Leaf]

Thank you Cedar, I treasure your words and will think on them. It is true. I did not want to keep looking back but realize I have to face this to really heal. I am sorry sisters, if I sound flaky, I think I am in a state of confusion, between well, just everything. I have entered the deepy dark swirly whirly without even seeing it.
Except now it is between my two and my past. I struggle with those tapes I was supposed to take to the dump. " Don't look back, leafy." " Don't feel, leafy."
I have to get ready for work, I forced myself to go walking, and it didn't feel good, but I am going to do it anyway.
I can't get off the chessboard if I don't know why the heck I was on there in the first place. Until I sort through this, I will end up being a pawn to the memory and truth of it.
Have a good day friends and be kind to yourselves. Whatever "self" means.........
confused leafy

 

[BusynMember]

I am hurt that they (my own mother; my own sister) do not love me. But I love me, now. Like Copa is too, I am beginning to fall in love with me, now.

This is awesome; huge growth. I am your star. And, if I could, I would have given you infinite stars for all your progress. Copa, you two.

I like myself now. I don't know about loving me...I don't like some things I've done while dealing with abusive FOO. I was not docile and accepting of it, like you two and I think I would love myself now if I had been that way.But I fought back. So I just like myself very much...lol. And, yes, I'd want to have me for a friend. That's a good test.

After Talking with my dad last night, my sister was apparently quite offended that she was not allowed back into my life AGAIN (after she had cut me off about ten times in our long, sick relationship) after I had my accident. I guess she thought sending flowers (paid for by my father) and contacting my daughter (in an iffy way and my daughter, as do all my kids, dislike my sister)...well, that should have made it all better because SHE reached out, with pressure from Dad. And, of course, in the past all reaching out by her had been successful by me. That I am sticking to my guns this time, and that my family are fantastic gatekeepers and looking out for my best needs, especially while I was so sick, disturbs her.

She thinks the flowers can erase the words, the cops, the fact that we felt best moving away from her so we left the state, the refusal to take ANY responsibility, and not ever sticking up for me to our mother....flowers don't make up f or all the stuff I have been through with her. Obviously, she had no obligation to stick up for me when my mother was so cruel to me and said such awful things about me, but, if you really love me as your sister, in my opinion you would. I would have. I did, before my mother liked my sister. If you don't like me enough to contradict my mother talking about my being "bad" then why did I ever let you into my life at all? And the multiplae police calls to shut me up, the anger for such little things that others did but got away with, and her meanness in general...sorry.Done.

Nothing can make it up and she will never be allowed back, even if I'm dying. Especially if. I can't hurt over her anymore. I'm done. And I'll bet it bothers her lots that she has no control over my life anymore and no way to batter my heart from here on out. Being a sick person, she longs for control over me and keeps trying.

As for brother, if he wants to forgive sis for not inviting him to her wedding because he was "gross and ugly" and wants to think I did worse things (I didn't), then that is his business and I haven't seen him much since he moved east. I don't need him in my life either.

Really. At least my brother leaves me alone. Except for sister trying to fire him up, I'm sure I don't reside in his head.

What sick families we had and still have. We need to be good to ourselves and to each other and remind each other not to try to make our FOO what it is not and has never been and to maybe just stay away for our own sake.

That is OUR win, ladies. Taking care of ourselves and keeping the abusers away unless there is some obvious change, apology, something to show us things are different. Most of all, what they say or think about us is none of our business and doesn't matter. They see us from their own perspective, which is their right, however I know first hand it does not make their perception correct. They did not live our lives and are just taking guesses, often mean ones. On purpose. They were not there. We were.

WE ROCK!!!!

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

I struggle with those tapes I was supposed to take to the dump.

The tapes will help you heal, Leafy. They are a way you are telling yourself what they did to you. Listen to them. Hold yourself with compassion; you were only a little girl. You were alone. Now you are grown up.

Counter the tapes, Leafy.

Think of someone pouring that poison into the ears of a child.

Think of the child, coming free.

Listen to the tapes Leafy, if you can catch the words in them. When you do, choose to hold yourself with compassion. For me, this was surprisingly hard to do. That is how we find the hurt, so we can address and heal it.

That was the meaning in the poetry, Leafy. The chessboard is universally black.

There is no map.

What matters is how we go forward.

We have everything we need already. Pretty much, what we are learning here is to listen sincerely.

Sometimes, there is nothing to be done but to listen, sincerely.

Those tapes are part of you, Leafy.

Nothing about you belongs in the trash. If it is in the trash, it is still working to heal you. We fight against our own healing very hard because we were, so many of us, hurt into believing things that aren't real or true, and that are harmful to us. So, we defend against them. We were hurt into that, Leafy. Our normal impulse is healthy balanced beautiful growth.

We need to listen, and allow healing.

There is nothing else we need to do.

Whatever we need to heal will come. Watch and see.

:O)

Cedar

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

What sick families we had and still have. We need to be good to ourselves and to each other and remind each other not to try to make our FOO what it is not and has never been and to maybe just stay away for our own sake.

D H says that if he should die or we were to divorce, I would be vulnerable to my sister and uber-vulnerable to my mother, and that I should never, ever forget that true thing. He also says I will not be able to stay away from her because she will have ten thousand excuses for what she has done. And I will "understand". Which is deadly.

I told him I think that will not happen. This time, she hurt my child. She couldn't really hurt me so much before, because I believed in all of us and so, whatever was really happening I just kept being blind to it.

Denial is so strange and so complex and it comes to feel so normal that we trick ourselves into blindness when really, we know what they are doing.

The denial would be something to do with her needing me ~ which is what she always says ~ which she does not.

I think D H is right.

We just cannot think in a straight line about our families of origin.

I wonder why that is. After all the work we have done, I mean. What I do know is that if we say true things to them, they explode.

Whatever. I am sounding foolish.

I feel foolish, and pretty vulnerable too, when it comes to my mother and to my sister. Maybe, once I am no longer freshly grieving, freshly out of denial, that will change?

Cedar

 

[Copabanana]

We have to be very strong to counter the imagery of self our abusers will have hurt into us for their stupidly reprehensible "win".

M is working hard on the other house, the one I bought for an office. I have decided that I will rent rooms out to other professionals, and leave one for me. The assumption at first was to rent to others in my own profession. But I tried to back away from that because I was afraid. Others in my profession can be and have been very mean to me. And I have felt no defense. Just kind of like open season on me. (The paradox which I cannot understand still, is that I am held in high esteem and in my work I hold myself in high esteem.)

So I was thinking I would rent to another profession, other than mine. Like attorneys. As is my sister. In that way they would not pick on me, because I am not in their family. But renting to attorneys means probably that there needs to be a designated conference room. That gets complicated.

So I am back to having to face head on that I am afraid of others in my profession because (while I may not respect them, even) because in my mind they can be mean to me, and I am afraid of them. And to have to face that is to have to face myself head on.

Might this be a valuable imagery for you to explore? I remember your posting that you felt no fear; that what you felt was love. Could it be that you were finding value in and coming to love the imprisoned parts of yourself?

Very interesting, Cedar.

My work with prisoners was very hidden. Very private. Because they were such a disenfranchised group I had little fear of seeming success, high status with them would be low status in an outside group. Kind of like Alice in Wonderland or Gulliver's Travels.

But it feels less important to figure out what happened, why it happened, how it could be that they don't love me.

This is what I was trying to tell you Serenity. This is part of the change in you. It no longer as much matters the past. It is you, now, who is the important part, with your family and your life.

Contempt is the secret cut abusive people routinely employ.

Yes. If I could understand my susceptibility to contempt, I would come out of this whole. My colleagues employ contempt very skillfully. After all, theirs is a profession of pigeon-holing. And they think this is a great skill.

when we are targeted by those who hold us in contempt, we have only two options: to feel the shame of what has happened to us and work through it until we have nothing to defend from and thus, nothing to protect (and here, the danger is that our senses of self will come to be held hostage to the merciless initial abuser ~ which is what happened to us, I think), or to pretend we weren't hurt and aren't bleeding.

So if I look at it this way, to be surrounded by those in my profession is an opportunity for mastery.

The way it has felt has been to be pecked to death. And watching myself bleed.

This is to look at it in a radical way. They can peck and peck. I cannot control it. And the brighter and more beautiful my plumage the more they will do it. I will have no control over that, their pecking. But I do not have to bleed. Instead of seeing their pecking as hurts, I can deflect them. I can say to myself. That is one more acknowledgement of how far I have come, how strong I have become.

That is OUR win, ladies. Taking care of ourselves

Taking care of ourselves is not hiding out in the house away from pecking. It is going into the world, as we define it, and holding ourselves safely, proudly no matter what. Is that it?

I feel foolish, and pretty vulnerable too, when it comes to my mother and to my sister. Maybe, once I am no longer freshly grieving, freshly out of denial, that will change?

Our mothers and sisters were at one time our entirely world. The substance of which, around which we composed ourselves. That is the confusion.

I think the answer is what you have written, Cedar. Four perfect scarves. I will make that my motto for this month. Or maybe longer.

If we have four perfect scarves, perfectly ours, perfectly in our own image, they will be our mantles. Like Superman. Those scarves will be my symbol, my talisman of separation. Of individuation. Of protection. Of my absolute value. Separate and apart.

Think about the presidency. Would it be the same without the White House, the oval office. Remember President Clinton's rage when President Obama was surging ahead of his wife in the polls in the South 7 years ago. He said something like this:

Two weeks ago he would have been shining my shoes.

How contemptuous is that? And despicable calling into question the horrors of racial subjugation and hatred.

Obama, the man, came to be protected by the mantle of the presidency. And that we can do for ourselves and help each other to do so, as well.

In some ways COPA is a different and better person than am I. I am creating myself here. And my four perfect scarves will be a symbol of such.

COPA

 

[Copabanana]

But three perfect scarves would be just right. No less than perfect scarves, at all. Such things do matter

Oops. I gave myself four. I am now "four perfect scarves." That is my new motto. They are: Hermes, Cartier, Gucci and Ferragamo.

COPA

 

[BusynMember]

We just cannot think in a straight line about our families of origin.

Yes, we can, and you have, Cedar.

My own sister would NEVER admit she needs me, but obviously, by her continuous coming back, she needs me. This time it does not soften my heart. She has been too horrid. I don't have to let her treat me like dirt and it won't happen again. I don't know that you'd allow it either, Cedar. You are much stronger now.

 

[Scent of Cedar *]

She wanted everything for herself. That was her price. Everything. And nothing for you. It was an essential selfishness. She was covetous, not competitive.

Like how I talk about value. She was envious of women who had more and better stuff especially if it came from men. Or children. But she never thought she was less than. Only that she deserved more.

My whole life I felt I deserved less or nothing at all. Because my mother maintained that she deserved it all. And so did my sister.

Yes. This is true of my mother (and of my sister). It is a two-pronged thing, Copa. We were raised to believe we were not entitled because they were. They wanted to be the source of largesse. Like God. That is power-over. It didn't matter whether it was a diamond bracelet or a carton of ice cream.

That is something we need to take a look at too, in our healing.

That we have been brought up to defer, to allow someone else not only access to, but distribution rights, to our power; to our energies; to our thinking and whatever our talents are.

Think about it.

That is what it comes down to.

The only thing we could do freely was love our children. That Sleeping Beauty kiss we never once saw coming and cherished with a sincerity of gratitude that is with us still, today. That was the only thing they did not sully with their contemptuous little brains and their power over reaching and stealing and wasting.

Think about the way the mothers handled the blossoming young daughter as she came into the power of her womanhood.

Not well, Copa.

Not well.

If they could have taken that from us too, they would have.

So, we have come through our lives feeling less entitled than the other guy. Than any other guy. In our work, in our everything. Maybe, what others call boundary issues are even more devastating, to us. That is probably why we do better on our own and behind the scenes.

We will work on that.

Why else would we say we are sorry and always want to fix everything all the time and never take credit for anything.

I am going to get so healthy my mother and my sister will not even recognize me.

Good.

Cedar

So, Copa. I was thinking about that other person you worked with, the one who said you had no boundaries. Here is the thing: Why would he not have helped you develop them instead of condemning you for not (in his gaudy godliness of his opinionated self) possessing them?

Because he was a bad and useless person, that's why.

He saw a vulnerability and used that gift of empathy to hurt someone.

Is that not an apt description of a sociopath, or worse?

 

[New Leaf]

The tapes will help you heal, Leafy. They are a way you are telling yourself what they did to you. Listen to them. Hold yourself with compassion; you were only a little girl. You were alone. Now you are grown up.

Counter the tapes, Leafy.

Think of someone pouring that poison into the ears of a child.

Think of the child, coming free.

Thank you Cedar, I will work on this. I think a big part of my challenge is that everything was supposed to be perfect. Rosy all of the time. I am going against everything I was taught, to even look back and examine my past. It is like swimming against the current. I was supposed to be happy and content, no matter what, stiff upper lip, "If you think you have it bad, look at all of the suffering people who have it way worse." "Smile though the world is crying", that sort of thing.Though all of these maxims have merit and truth to them, how was I as a little girl supposed to defend myself?
I have written that my situation was not as bad as you folks, and to a large extent, I think this is true. But, I think that what I am seeing, is that I was the one who was supposed to stop the torment, on my own. So why did my parents not stop what was going on? Why didn't they see what was happening to me? At least my Mom. She was around us more than Dad. Why didn't she stop my sister? Was I viewed as the problem?
I remember telling my Mom, what was going on, and hearing over and over, "Just ignore it Leafy, don't be so sensitive, don't cry, don't let them get the best of you." That's it. I don't remember my sister getting into trouble. I do recall, giving up, and not saying anything anymore. No use. So I lived for a long time, just stuffing it all down, and being alone in my room. I think by the time I was five, I gave up. I knew it was no use. So I set myself to trying to please my parents. Smiling even though I didn't feel like it. The harder I tried to carry myself through things, the worse my situation became with my sister. The more I was supposed to ignore it. It was a losing battle. So, I guess, I can say my Mom was involved, well, I don't know. Conscientious objection? Does that make any sense? Could my sister have been so convincing, even at a young age, that the problem became all me? It was mine to solve? How could a small child defend against that?

So, we defend against them. We were hurt into that, Leafy. Our normal impulse is healthy balanced beautiful growth.

This is true, and recognition, when things are not right, to correct. Not to ignore. It was more of a convenience to say that, I think. Did Mom look at it as a training for me? I was too sensitive, so I needed to have that bullied out of my system? I don't know the answer guys. But I have to tell you, even writing this, I feel I am betraying everything I grew up learning. Did you feel like that?
I guess that is the idea of the "Emperor Who Wore No Clothes" That it takes courage to stand up in a crowd of people and say "HE is naked."
So why do I feel like the naked one?
Got to go for my walk.
Thank you for helping me.
I am sorry, if I shouldn't be here on FOO. I don't know, maybe I just am to whacky and sensitive, and I am blowing things out of proportion. I am sorry if I have offended anyone with my rambling........
(((HUGS)))
leafy