If I don't jump in with both feet this post will never be written. Here goes.
I grew up in a family where talking about feelings or emotions was discouraged. There was zero meaningful communication about anything. My mother's weapon of choice was the silent treatment. My parents checked out of their parenting gig when I was probably 10. They followed other more worthwhile pursuits. I was cast adrift on a sea of self-doubt and loneliness with a shoreline of despair in my sights. A girl searching for love. A recipe for disaster. What other people said I was-I became. I started drinking at age 14 to escape the pain of losing my grandmother. She was the only one who showed me unconditional love. I miss her still. Along with the drinking came the suicidal thoughts and the desperate plans of a desperate girl. Hey, wait a minute there are boys out there! Boys who will be nice to you for only one reason. Since I had no moral compass to speak of I was quickly drawn into behaviors that I should have turned from. I was used by many. I believed I deserved no better. On this path of self-destruction I met an extremely abusive man. He kept that under wraps until we were engaged. He beat me and one night tried to rape and kill me. I ran. I ran to Connecticut to be a nanny for a loving family. I was healing. I left Connecticut after my contract was up. I came home to a very icy reception. My family wasn't even at the airport to meet me. I had to beg my sister to come after promising that I would pay her for gas. WELCOME HOME, CARLA! I found an apartment with a co-worker and started partying.
There he was. The man I would marry. I saw him and felt like I had known him all of my life. Patrick Stream. I fell in like. Wanted to do this right for once. Just be friends and have fun and get back on track. I wouldn't even kiss him on our first date.
The world came crashing in when the pregnancy test came back positive. Stay tuned.
Being Real 2
11 comments:
Wow. You've been through a LOT... I find it impressive that you've kept your perspective and sense of humor. So are you going to write the rest of the story? I want to read the rest of the story!
I am so proud of you for being so transparent. That took a lot of guts.
Thank you both. I feel like I am gonna throw up.
Wow, I hope you don't mind 'guy' comments, but that is such a commentary on our society and the skewed standards we perpetuate.
We are increasingly becoming a culture that gainsays what we believe and pats ourself on the back for having such noble mores. Really, we are more destructive to our children than most of the rest of the world that we look down our collective nose at.
The virginity of a daughter is fiercely protected by her parents and yet the son is left to suffer the casual loss of his, no less sacred gift. The result is a collection of victims who bundle sexual gratification in among the expected icons of social esteem.
How brave for you to share such a personal, cautionary anecdote; only a mother in love with her children can make such a painful window open to allow others to see her as the whole woman she is despite what you went through.
I hope you experience much blessing from it.
Mark
P.S. If you do throw up, make sure you blog about it....not.
I would hope and pray that the virginity of sons and daughters is fiercely protected by parents. Sadly, Mark that doesn't seem to be true.
Carla, I'm proud of you!
Thank you for sharing, Carla. I loved getting to know this side of you. It's not easy to open up. And it's not easy to learn to love when you live in a house devoid of love. I should know. I beat myself up over it and ended up almost starving myself to death. Thanks for sharing.
The boy that trashed my life was named Patrick.
Keep it going girl, it will feel good, eventually.
Thanks for sharing. I'm excited to get to know the "real" you, friend.
Good to get it out, you needed to!
...and thanks for being real!
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