You are one amazing chick.
Girl, you struck a nerve. Are you sure we didn't share the same father. The father I could never be good enough for. The father who constantly reminded me I was stupid and never amount to anything.
I spent my life trying to please the unpleasable.(not a word but it should be because it best describes my daddy) I set out to prove him wrong with straight A's. I know where my perfectionisim (wooohoooo, just made another word, Webster...call me!)stems from. In that whole process it shaped and formed the person I am today who loves her dad but hate the demons that haunted him enough to verbally beat his little girl down leaving her standing in a puddle of tears.
Wow, ' didn't know that was all there. Ya'll can send me a bill for your therapy session today!
OK, let's throw our baggage out the window and have a great weekend!
God bless :o)
I was fortunate not to share this experience, but my heart hurt as you described that little girl trying to figure out what "look" she SHOULD have on her face to appease her angry father.
It is so inspiring to see how God used those experiences to shape you into a wonderful, productive adult with a special connection to the challenged children you teach.
A really touching but also uplifting post. Thank you for sharing it.
btw, I had dinner with C and V from Stickhorse Cowgirls last week and V works with challenged children too. I told her that you and she might have some interesting experiences and insights to share.
I'm sorry you had to live through that. I was abused as a child as well so I know what you are talking about with the baggage. I've been in therapy for 9 years. I love my counselor!
(((Hugs)))
It's a shame that your dad treated you that way as a child. So many dads fail to value the special bond between a father and daughter. Having raised two daughters myself, I've had to catch myself when I raised my voice and saw the fear in their eyes.
I can remember the way my dad spoke to me, and the look on his face when he wasn't happy. I remember being scared to death. I never wanted to do that to my kids.
I'm glad to see that you're a better person because of this.
I tend to look at my relationship with my mother kind of the same way. If I let it, it drags me into dark places...but mostly I remind myself that I am NOT what she thinks I am, but I am who I am because of the life that I lived. The lessons I have learned help me with my own kids...and I think it makes me a better parent....
They say kids are resilient, and to that I say, Thank God. We are a sum of many parts. I also believe that temperament plays a huge role in how one comes out of an abusive childhood; I was fortunate to have a sunny disposition. Of course, Mom made a huge difference, too. All nine of us kids turned out to be good people, thanks in part to her influence.
Hey, Nezzy, I think perfectionism IS a word 
And that will be $90.
Gotta go chop veggies for booyah!
You are so right!
I have always told my kids that when someones being mean, it's really because they have some kind of issue that makes them feel inferior; it makes them feel superior to pick on others.
I applaud your tenacity, understanding and willingness to face it.
Thank you for sharing a bit of your truth today. Much of it resonated.
That metaphor really works for me. Good for you for finding the good out of the difficult.
I know that a lot of the things that happened to me has only made me a better person. Thankfully you have had help learning to work through everything. Congrats on having such a small bag to carry with you!
Kristin - The Goat
The things some of us endured as children...wow! I have told my children that they have no idea what "mean" is compared to what I went through.
i'm not so forgiving. after becoming an adult and being forced to work on the damage inflicted on me by others (either that or die) i learned that we all have decisions to make about ourselves. they could have chosen to not inflict their crap on me. instead they went the easy way and spewed themselves all over.
i chose differently. i consciously chose to not do that to my son and husband. it was hard work. it took years. but i love them enough to go through that.
i'm not saying i'm better. i am saying that i can't forgive them for choosing their own selfishness over my wellbeing.
I can't tell you how much this post struck home. I don't know if I've been able to unpack as well you have, but I'm always trying. I took some of the negatives of my childhood and turned them into positives raising my own children. So maybe I'm unpacking better than I think.
Thanks for the post.
Awesome, Barb. Just awesome!
For me it was my mother. But instead of continuing the pattern I decided to stop it in its tracks. I screw up sometimes because I am human, but I apologize, I accept responisiblity for my words and behavior, and I ask myself frequently, "How would my mother react?", then I do the opposite. It's working well. The kids are open with me and honest because they know they don't have to live in fear.
I hope that when they become parents they build on what I did right and correct what I did wrong. I have confidence that there will be more building than correcting.
Oh how I love this post! I can absolutely relate. Love the transition from a heavy, wheels broken suitcase to a lightweight, drawstrings bag.
Great post Mrs. 4444. It's always work, and it's always worth it. Especially when it comes to doing better for our own kids, and being able to enjoy them the way we deserve to.
Beautifully said!
Thanks, guys. On the subject of compassion for my dad, I never knew what caused him to become an abusive alcholic, but it was clear that he wasn't emotionally well when I was growing up. When I was a teenager, he quit drinking, but he became a gambler later. He was trying to get away from something. Some day, I'd like to find out what.
Recovery from childhood abuse (of any kind) is a journey. My hope for everyone in that situation is that they find hope of their own and find support somewhere...
What a powerful perspective! Without completly unpacking here, my estranged-ish father passed away last Oct. Before his death I carried a lot of baggage around because of our relationship. Baggage I didn't want to let go of. When he suddenly, unexpectedly passed away (shortly after I mailed him an olive branch of a letter) I was forced to dig out that old set and go through what I'd been holding on to.
I'm still dealing with a bits and pieces, and it sometimes sneaks up on me. Like when I'm trying to sneak into the back of meeting already begun, only to drop my purse loudly and watch my lipstick roll all they way to the front of the room.
The good news is that I'm making progress and like you, I find my load getting lighter all along. Thanks for the encouragment, and the opportunity to run your metaphor into the ground, then beat it with a dead horse and hide it in my baggage, to be packed up and put away later.
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