It makes me sad. Sometimes I resent the whole I’m going to therapy thing especially when the cousin comes up. We talked about the cousin and about the lack of male influence growing up, about the vast majority of women in my family hating men but being closet lesbians. There were 2 boys in my life growing up, my older male cousin aka the wolf and my younger brother. Wow, I just smiled when I wrote “my younger brother.” We steered the conversation away from him and ended up talking about Robert and how he identifies with two abusers. We talked about how my adult male cousin is the only person in the family to pay for his crimes. I wonder if he had grown up differently if he would have hurt his girls? Even still we all have a choice. We have a choice to hit or not hit, to harm or not harm. People can get help. There is no excuse for abuse, none at all. People have a choice not to hurt. We talked about the mother choosing to hurt her children, choosing to not get help. That hurts so much, to know not only did she choose to hurt us she enjoyed it. That makes me angry.
We talked about me holding the baby on Monday and how it felt to do so. I didn’t freak out when she handed her to me. I didn’t run or try and sanitize the baby. No OCD issues at all as a matter of fact. He asked how it felt. I told him I like kids. He noticed the glow when I mentioned my foster boys. He asked how it was that I was able to be a good mother when I was never shown how to be one. For me motherhood came naturally plus I could relate to the boys and their fears.
We talked about how abuse gets passed down from one generation to another. I understand that. I’ve said it before, there are 6 generations of abuse in my family. I’ve heard stories from 5 of them because 5 generations were alive at one time.
I know my mother saw herself in me and I understand that. I understand the idea that a mother can look at her child and see the child they use to be. I understand looking at her and thinking you hate her because you see yourself, the weak, hurt, scared little knock kneed kid you were. I look in the mirror and detest the reflection of the scared child I use to be. But still, stand back and take a good hard look. She’s not you. I wasn’t her and I deserved a chance to not feel like she did. Because I do know how she felt it’s her fault, not the fault of the person that abused her. This is on her, it was her hand that hurt me and her apathy that allowed others to hurt me because she didn’t see me (herself) as worthy of protection. But you gotta draw a line between you and your child somewhere. Why, cause it’s right to do so, because it means her future health to draw that line.
Think about this, why on earth would you put her through what you went through? You can’t destroy yourself or your past through another person especially a child. Making the choice to do no harm and figuring out a way to follow through on this goal is vital for yourself and for generations to come. Do not pass this down! If you wouldn’t consciously pass down AIDS or ovarian cancer, breast cancer or any other deadly disease why would you be willing to pass down abuse? It is unnatural to hit and abuse, it is natural to love but sometimes anger from the past snuffs out our will to let love abound. Please, for the love of God do not pass this down!
Austin’s August
Will You Choose To Pass This Down?
Wednesday, November 14, 2007-6:31PM EST
At some point in time–I think during my first pregnancy (thank goodness)–I decided that the abuse cycle stops with me. I didn’t have to make that choice. Like your mother (and mine) I could have passed along violent ways to my kids. I don’t know why some parents do, and others don’t. I only know that it came naturally for me to love my sons.
Today when I see how gentle and loving and protective they are with their sons and daughters, I thank God I made the right choice. It may be one of the few good choices I’ve ever made, but for their sakes I’m so glad I got that right.
For those who parents choose otherwise, it’s beyond tragedy. It hurts my heart and head to even think about the sad results for the kids who bear the brunt of their parents selfishness.
Is there always power for the choice? I am fighting hard, because there is power in those past patterns, internalized. And the patterns I am fighting are not even really abuse, just bad fit, misunderstanding. How much more powerful must abusive patterns be.
I’m not trying to condone it or excuse it, just saying it’s not always easy, not always natural.
I envy you both your natural, unhindered compassion for your kids.
I’ve never been able to understand someone inflicting the same abuse on another as was inflicted on them, especially sexual abuse. I think some people just lack compassion.