It’s always the same. I’m going crazy, screaming and pleading with my mother and sisters to understand what I am telling them. I never say the words that actually tell them what is going on between my father and I, instead I just scream angry profanity’s at them and beg them to notice that something is wrong. That I am wrong. That I am trying to tell them the most important thing of my life, but I can’t put it into words. I feel them embrace me, but they want to pull away. I see them look at me like I am a crazy, spoiled child. All I want is for them to stay and hold me, but in the end they always leave me. I don’t blame them. I’m an incoherent, screaming, hysterical child. I am spoiled by a mother who cannot understand what is wrong with me. To them I am a spoiled child. I’m angry at them. Why don’t they see? How can they be so blind? I am trying to tell them with every hateful word and action that something is wrong with me. I hate them for leaving me, for walking away to live their lives. I hate them for not knowing. I hate them for hating me.
One of the hardest lessons I have learned in my life is that no one is here to save you. We may think others owe it to us to save us, but the truth is only we can save ourselves. Occasionally I find myself getting angry, my breath gets tight and my jaw clinches shut, tears sting my eyes. I get angry because I expected they should have all saved me from him, that they should have seen his evil. I get angry and think of how selfish and wrapped up in your own life a person must be to not notice a child’s pain. I swear to myself that I will never be that selfish with anyone in my life. Then the anger turns to pain and I realize that what my father was doing to me was the last possible thing that they ever considered could be going on. Do we ever expect that the evil is in our own home? My father was a master at what he did, at hiding who he really was and the things he really felt. I have come to a place in my heart where I realize that what happened, happened. What’s important to me is who I am now. I love the person I am becoming. Most importantly I see how strong I am and I am proud. Come what may I know I can save myself.
I received an unexpected phone call today. My cell phone rang and registered a number I was not familiar with. Honestly my old hometown are code showed up and I got a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. (I hate to be reminded of anything from my past). I don’t know what force it was that led me to answer, but I did. A young, deep male voice sounded through the phone, it was unrecognizable to me. The caller ,much to my relief was an old friend from the past, a young man I used to babysit for in my younger days. At one time I had been very close to him and his sister; I loved them deeply, I still do. We spent a few minutes catching up, talking about choices we have made in life and where they have led us. It was interesting for me to note that we had very similar views on leaving behind our family, friends, and hometown. To say the least, after I hung up I was overjoyed that this young man had gone out of his way to call me. It started me thinking though as most things do….
A few months ago while grocery shopping I came across a small 4-inch potted plant. I enjoy having greenery in my home and winter seemed to be lasting an incredibly long time, so I purchased the little green plant. In my house it was put onto a table in the living room by a window. I watered her, I dusted her, I nurtured her. She was green and she was strong. After a month or so of passing by my little plant everyday it dawned on me that though she appeared healthy looking, she was not growing. Somewhere in the back of my mind I remember thinking that I needed to probably put her into a bigger pot. However, as most thoughts that pop into our head at inopportune times, it was forgotten.
Two weeks ago my boyfriend and I moved into a house we had purchased. As I was setting up the living room I decided I might as well replant my little greenery in a bigger pot. You can probably guess what happened: she began to grow. At this moment she has doubled in size since receiving her knew pot.
The thought I had is that people can be a lot like a potted house plant. At one time I was like that little plant in a 4-inch pot, as was my unexpected caller. What changed? We chose to replant ourselves into bigger pots. How might you ask does one do this? For me and my unexpected caller it was moving away from all that we had known. It’s not to say that we were being held back by continuing to live a life in a place we knew was not for us. Or maybe it is. Perhaps, for some a bigger pot just means taking a chance, doing the unexpected. Anything that will lead to you growing stronger and healthier and branching out. So I challenge you, take a chance. Go back to school, move to a new town, start that business you have always wanted. For god’s sakes, do anything that will cause you to bloom bigger and brighter.