Life After Trauma.

In June of 2019, my husband, our son, and I moved to northern Wisconsin. This was a life changing move, and the result of finally making a decision to choose myself. 

Now let’s rewind. 

In last week’s blog I admitted to you all that I felt I had to prove my worth as a child, in order for people to love me. So, I became like a chameleon and blended into whatever I felt like the people I wanted to love me . . . wanted me to be. I grew up behaving in this manner, constantly denying myself. 

Then I turn 18, I graduate, and I meet this group of people. They referred to themselves as a christian community. I decided that instead of going to college, I was going to join them and so I did. 

Some things were good. I learned a LOT. Like how to grow my own food, how to live without electricity or running water. For some portion of my time there, we lived off the grid. . .and that was both difficult and rewarding. We shared our homes, we shared our money, we shared our lives. 

I made family out of friends there, I met my husband there, I married him there, and we had our son there. I grew bonds there, and I became attached to “there.” 

Sounds good but unique right? 

For years I referred to this place, this group of people as a Christian community. The people I cut out of my life when I joined wouldn’t call it that, they’d call it a cult. 

I cringe when I think about calling it that. But I do think about it. 

The major teaching there was that in order to be like Christ you must put others first. In order to put others first you must deny yourself. 

Well I had already spent my childhood in that very idea, denying myself. So piece of freaking cake, I was definitely going to prove my worth in this environment. I was definitely going to win the contest of “who can deny themselves the most.” 

This got extreme, I cut off friends, I cut off family(some deserving of this, most not.) I killed all of my own aspirations and desires to prove my worth to these people, and I did it all with a smile on my face. It was the ultimate betrayal of myself.

Then Jake and I married, and something began to shift in me. I don’t know if it was the confidence I had in him being there no matter what. . or if I just felt truly seen for the first time ever. My inner voice started questioning things more but I suppressed because I still believed I wasn’t good enough.

Then I had Max. I can remember looking in the mirror one night, after a particularly hard day, and thinking “what the fuck have I done to myself.” Excuse my language. 

At that moment I decided that Max deserved so much more than that place,  he deserved so much more than what my behavior was allowing. I finally decided I deserved more as well. 

When I allude to the fact that having Max saved my life, this is what I mean. 

Eventually the opportunity to move north arose and Jake and I decided we needed to do it. We knew this decision wasn’t going to be well met by the rest of our group so we tried to properly prepare everyone. We started talking about it a year in advance, teaching others how to take over some of our roles, etc. Nevertheless, none of that mattered.

We were making a decision for ourselves that was viewed as selfish. We quickly went from being the group's “golden children” to the group's “problem children.” We spent another year in an environment with people that were active in telling us that without them, we were without God, and we weren’t worthy.. It took everything in me to fight against all the insecurities I had fed for years. To summon my last ounces of dignity and wade right through that bullshit. We moved and they shunned us. 

I had poured the first 7 years of my young adult life(18 - 25) into these people, this community. I sacrificed everything for their “love”. I had alienated my family, my friends.

I was ashamed, no, I was enraged at what I had done to myself in the pursuit of other people’s love. 

I had an identity crisis. 

I questioned everything, including my marriage; because if none of their love was real, how could his have been? 

I felt so horribly alone. 

I was at rock, fucking, bottom. (sorry, not sorry, for the language) 

Wanna know what was beautiful about my rock bottom? 

I was finally convinced that killing my own soul wasn’t what was going to make people love me, because I had accomplished that.

I had exhausted myself of convincing people that weren’t worthy of me, how worthy I was of them.

I had to find a way to claim my own worth. 

and so I said, “no more.” 

I did a lot of self evaluation, and I started making decisions based on my own wants and desires. In doing this, the real version of myself started to emerge. A self that I was still trying to get to know. . .and a self that my husband didn’t recognize anymore. 

Man, I have huge amounts of love for my husband for sticking with me through that process. 

There’s this movie called “Luckiest Girl Alive” on Netflix, starring Mila Kunis. Towards the end of the movie there’s a scene where her fiance says, 

“You used to be so different, we used to have fun.” 

 Mila’s character responds with, 

“I don’t know if I’m fun. I don’t know what's me and what part I invented to make people like me.”

I can remember Jake and I having conversations so similar to this. I can remember apologizing when I had to tell him that the girl he married wasn’t real, but instead a person I made up to make him and everyone else love me. 

He’s had to watch me acknowledge that my childhood did indeed hurt me. . . and I know that for a while that threw him off because I had convinced myself and everyone else that none of that was an issue for me. 

Because like Mila’s character said in the movie, “So tough, that I ignore the parts that hurt me.  I’m like a wind up doll, turn my key and I'll tell you exactly what you wanna hear. I have denied myself and denied myself. I'm fine, I'm not hurt. And it has built up this rage inside of me. Look I should have faced this sooner, but I just think that I need to do it now without worrying about what you or anyone else thinks of it.” 

In the movie they decide to go their separate ways. 

And I understood, because I felt the same. I had to do whatever I had to do to begin healing, and not worry what a damn person thought about it.

While at my lowest I questioned our marriage, now I can recognize that he’s never been someone that I had to prove my worth to. He has stuck with me through the worst of my behavior. My anger and my depressive episodes. 

He has given me the space to acknowledge my pain, and then he has taken the brunt of my pain, and helped me carry it till I became comfortable with the weight of it. 

To me that is the process of healing, carrying the pain until you become comfortable with it. Comfortable enough to know that it exists, but that it doesn’t have to define your every moment. 

Because trying to rid yourself of the pain is a lot like trying to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. It seems that the rainbow comes to an end right over the tree line, so you hike through woods, and you reach the clearing. Only now, you see there's a lake to cross and a mountain to climb before you reach it. There is always a new obstacle. 

That pot of gold is unattainable, and you are miserable.

The person who’s sole focus is ridding themselves of their pain misses the absolute beauty that is the hike through the forest, the paddle across the lake, and the climb up the mountain. 

So, I’m here to tell you, acknowledge your pain and get real comfortable with it. Once you become comfortable with it, you’ll start enjoying the beautiful moments. 

Because life after trauma is meant to be embraced not endured.