An Inner Child's Journey to Self-Love
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on 23rd January 2011 at 15:08 (3351 Views)
Recently I was contacted by a beautiful woman who had read my previous articles. She asked me a powerful question: whether in my journey to get where I am now, I have come across my inner child.
This was the catalyst for writing this article and for overcoming my fear of facing factors related to my childhood, head-on. In addressing issues pertaining to my childhood, I do believe that I will heal my inner child, which in turn would assist in resolving my self-love issues.
I trust that in my journey to gather these longed-for attributes, for myself that I will be able to speak to the hearts of those who might also battle with self-love and with feeling worthy of being loved, as well as meaningful.
I do want to manifest these qualities in my life consistently whilst adding value to the lives of others in the process. I want to rid myself of the feelings, actions and reactions which I deem as unbecoming of the life that I would like to live. I would like for those who have the same struggles to also be able to have that which I want for myself.
My journey is no more important than that of others.
As a child I grew up believing that I was unloved from a young age. This was due to a series of events, and my related perception of who I am as a result of external inputs which I believed were a mirror of who I was.
I have come to realize that the fearful and unhappy little girl that I was, and pretended not to be, is still there - she needs to be freed of her unhappiness in order for me to love myself as the woman I am today.
I have known this for quite some time but fear of the pain and the shame that goes along with having to face past events and probably uncovering more of the resultant not-so-pretty attributes that I have thus far exhibited in being Yolanda, have left me closed off, shameful and unhappy.
Often I have sensed or recognized my inner child in my daily living. She is there in every insecure thought, in every painful jab of emotional hurt. In my defensiveness, oversensitivity, people-pleasing, in my harrowing jealousy in relationships, in my longing to feel accepted and ‘best’ loved. She lives and breathes, in fear, bitterness, resentment, comfort eating, depression, suicidal thoughts, anger and shame and in the act of shutting everyone out. In being petty and withdrawn, in feeling slighted and disregarded.
Throughout my life, it has come to my attention that there are varied philosophies regarding the effects of an ‘unhappy’ childhood, manifested in adult life. The philosophy of just rebuilding a new, happy childhood or just forgetting about the past and carrying on with your life has not been a successful one for me, and I have come to realize why.
When I was growing up, there was an absence of vital components integral to the realm of self-love and feeling worthwhile.
There was an abundance of influence related to feeling fearful, stressed, rejected, unworthy and unloved.
Thus, the reason the sweeping-under-the-carpet or repression methods did not work for me, was that I did not have a related frame of reference for that which I believe is vital in the healthy emotional development of a child. The things that I am struggling with as an adult are the things that were not present in my childhood.
Therefore, logically speaking I should be able to say: I know this, I understand this, therefore I can move on.
I have found that it is not quite that simple, because the effects of lack of self-love components have caused me to have a certain belief about myself, and I have lived out those beliefs and have cultivated ingrained ‘survival’ behaviors and reactions from then until this exact moment.
The easy road is of course to blame everything on past events and on what people did or did not do. This is not the answer, however, and as with suppression, it is toxic behavior. One stays entangled in the comfortable web of blaming, which causes a lack of responsibility for one’s own life, with the result that we stay frozen in the same unwanted state.
And sweeping one’s childhood under the carpet does not offer the freedom required to move into a life of consistent, proactive growth toward one’s full potential. I have tried this method for as long as I can remember, and have failed dismally. No matter how far I try to bury it within me, the same beliefs, thought-patterns and behaviors come back time and time again. I think as adults we believe that it is a sign of lack of character and maturity if we are not able to move on and let the past be. In embarrassment we suppress it without healing the cause of the unwanted behaviours in our lives.
In order to move on, we need to first be brave enough to go back and uncover the problem for what it is/was, understand the subsequent beliefs about ourselves, realize that blaming is not the answer, heal the situation for ourselves, and only then we can move on.
This is not a painless journey, mostly because of having to be braver than ever and scathingly honest with ourselves.
I am sure you are familiar with the term: No pain, no gain.
You are, however, worthy of living your optimal life, a life most only dream of.
Sadly, not everyone has the belief that they can live their dream life and many have given up on their dreams and have stopped dreaming of their optimal life altogether.
We hold ourselves back because of our fear of reliving the painful past and perhaps the shame of seeing things in ourselves which we do not want to admit are there, what to say of bring to light to others.
We do not feel worthwhile, therefore we feel that living the life that we dreamed of is not meant for us.
Our daily lives are full of events where we try to hide or prove to others that we are not the things which we believe deep-down about ourselves. These are the things that we need to address, in order to free ourselves to live the lives we dream of or to start dreaming anew.
Things went wrong for me from the age of 6. As I am soon to be 45, that amounts to a 39-year cycle of negative, self-limiting patterns.
My parents divorced before I was 6. The divorce of my parents was the beginning of all sorts of trouble. Unbeknown to myself as a child, my mother had endured the most painful heartache of betrayal by her true love (my father) and after trying for a couple of years to regain trust, divorce had followed. I still remember being in a state of disbelief and torn with grief about this divorce, for many years to come.
My real father accepted a transfer to another province, with his new wife.
Unbeknown to my mom, she then married a classified psychopath.
I stayed with my mom and stepfather in Cape Town from 6 – 9 years of age. It is interesting to have only recently learned the correct ages related here, as I have always believed it was from the age of 5 - 7. My mom used to work on Saturdays, which left me at home with my stepfather.
During those 3 years I was sexually abused by my stepfather. He told me that if I ever told anyone about what he was doing, my dad would go to jail because he (my dad) did not look after me. In the beginning it was only when my mom was at work, but later it became more often: we would have family over for evening braais (barbecues) on weekends and as little girls should have set bedtimes, I was lovingly tucked into bed by my mom, whilst the family carried on socializing outside. I remember numerous occasions of my stepfather coming into my dark bedroom, putting his hand over my mouth and doing what he wanted to do, whilst I heard the family’s voices outside. Or taking me to the shop with him. To this day, seeing a car parked on the side of a road with a solitary man just sitting in the driver’s seat brings back awful memories and makes my heart pound deafeningly loud.
His son, my step-brother, was older than me. One day, in the garage, he pulled down my underwear and the domestic helper walked in. That evening my stepfather tied him to his bed and beat him with a whip, so hard that his back was torn open and bloody. I stood there thinking it was ironic that he was doing this to his son for pulling down my underwear, when he in fact was doing so much worse to me.
My mom is not to blame here; she was working hard and had her own grief and realizations as to who she had really married, to deal with.
My father was offered a promotion and transfer to Durban and stopped by to hear if I wanted to come and live with him and his new wife. I grabbed the offer with both hands, as it meant I could get away from my stepfather.
What followed were horrendous, abusive years with a woman who until this day I believe hated me relentlessly, as I was a constant reminder of my mother. Not just to her, but also to my father. She had a rage toward me which was palpable and made me very fearful of her.
At any opportunity alone with me, she would snarl vicious, demeaning things related to my mother, to how I looked; that no one would ever love me, that I was nothing and would not amount to anything. There was a lot of hitting, shoving and spitting going on. On numerous occasions she would shove so hard that I would fall, and a kick or two was added. Entering the bathroom whilst I was bathing to see that I was washing myself properly, was followed by her performing rough scrubbing with a nailbrush all over my body, and forcing a soapy facecloth in my mouth when I cried because of the pain. In the beginning, I told my dad about the abuse that happened whilst he was out in the garage or at work, but all hell would then break loose and she would become absolutely hysterical, screaming and shouting that he is taking my side because I am my mother’s daughter and that he does not love her, slamming doors and creating a terrible energy in the house. I believe that my dad in the end turned a blind eye, he just wanted peace. Here I realized that the one person whom I had felt safe with (apart from my mom herself, in another province), wasn’t my sanctuary. I remember dreading them coming home from work on schooldays, my stomach in a knot with fear of the ensuing atmosphere in the home and of what she would find wrong in the chores that I had performed.
My contact with my mother was very scarce, as my stepfather did not want her to talk to me. So she would call me once a week from work or when she had a chance in between, from home, tense and speaking in a whisper.
At the age of 12, on a telephone call during which my mother related her anger about the event with my step-brother, I decided to tell her what had happened with my stepfather. She just could not believe me, and it took a while to register. When she asked my stepfather about it, he said he was just playing with me.
My father took me to a doctor, who said that I would be fine. I do not know what I had expected from my dad, but I did expect him to stand up for me. Instead he did nothing, and said that the shame on the family name would be too great.
My stepmother loved this information. She ridiculed and demeaned me in my father’s absence, telling me I had asked for it and that I had enjoyed it
.
I remember being older and her insulting me about this once more, speaking softly but vehemently, so close that I could feel her spit spraying on my face. My fear gave way to tremendous anger, and before I knew it, I had slapped her across her face. That evening my father punished me by slapping me so hard across the face that I skidded across the floor.
That was the last time that she lifted her hand to me though.
I remember feeling stressed, depressed and suicidal as a child. I remember the effort of pretending to be happy when inside I was questioning my reason for living.
I felt deserted by and worried about my mother and unworthy of protection and love by my father. I felt that there was a deficiency within me. I felt that if the two people who are ‘supposed’ to love me ‘best’ and protect me, do not, then I am not worthwhile, then I am lacking, that all of those things that my stepmother said were true.
What I did not know was what my mother was enduring during her years of marriage to my stepfather. I gathered bits and pieces, but I did not know about the emotional and physical abuse, the hospital visits to sew her together again, the sinister games, the loaded revolver which he was threatening to kill her with, and find me to do the same, if she did not comply with his demands and manipulations.
A few years ago my step-father died in one of his rage fits.
.
After 34 years, I got my mother back. We live together now. What a gift!
In the past I have done many unacceptable things to just feel liked, to just feel a moment of worthiness, to numb the pain. None of those reasons justifies the behavior though. Blaming, as I said, does not work, even if you are blaming yourself.
The results of believing that I am not worthy of love and not worthwhile have been evident in many aspects of my life. It is me holding myself back: Lack of self-love and self-acceptance, not believing that I can manifest my potential or be meaningful, fear of failure, which in turn causes not wanting to try anything, over-sensitivity to people’s remarks, over-defensiveness, abhorrence of conflict and being in the vicinity of shouting, withdrawing myself from social interaction, jealousy in relationships because I long to be loved ‘best’, comfort eating, depression, suicidal thoughts, feeling that being in a relationship is not meant for me, fearing intimate contact and becoming a recluse.
None of these beliefs and behaviors has assisted me in finding peace and meaning.
All of that has to change. I have to let that little girl know that she is safe and loved and very much worthwhile; envision her, call her, hold her and tell her that she is safe and loved and worthwhile, so that she can get to experience freedom from the past, feel peace, that she is loved and that she is worthy of that.
We have to love ourselves and find ourselves worthwhile.
Look at past events in your childhood – if you cannot recall hurtful events, look at unhappy feelings that you have in your current life – and try to see if you can find a link to where they originated from.
Look at how those events made you feel about yourself then.
Pinpoint what the resultant self-limiting thought patterns and behaviors are, that are still part of your life today, without judging or chastising yourself.
Realize that blaming gets no one anywhere.
Realize that these feelings are there because you believe them of yourself, and even though we are 'justified' to feel this way, it is vital to realize that we CAN change it.
You need to rectify those beliefs, you need to love yourself to heal and free your inner child.
You need to decide what your meaning and dream life is, for yourself.
In this process of assisting your inner child to reach a place of peace so that you can learn to love yourself, start a daily journal where you note the following:
1. Become aware of when you do not feel good about yourself - without judging yourself.
2. What happened that caused you not to feel good? Here, do not analyze whether you were justified to feel upset or not, just establish what it was that caused the feeling.
3. What is the feeling? How does it feel? Name it with a 'feeling' word.
4. Where do you think this feeling stems from?
4. Did you react verbally or physically, and how did you react? Again, do not judge yourself.
5. What were your thoughts about yourself during this process of not feeling good?
6. Did you blame anyone? Who and why?
7. Write all of the above down every time you do not feel good about yourself.
8. End this process off by writing the following after each journal entry:
I am safe.
I am responsible for my happiness as an adult.
I am deserving of love, acceptance, respect and joyfulness.
I am worthwhile.
I accept, respect and love myself.
Get colored pencils or markers and use it to doodle around your point 8. entry above. It is amazing what an uplifting quality colors have.
It is not possible to give myself the childhood which I then yearned for, and which my inner child feels that she was cheated out of.
Instead, in learning to love myself, I can give her the love, safety and caring that she longed for and therefore set her free to be a happy little girl.
Only I can heal her and bring her peace, a sense of safety and the knowing that she is worthy of being ‘best’ loved.
In other words: making yourself vulnerable to yourself and working through the fear, shame and repercussions of painful childhood events is worthwhile because you are worthwhile and deserving of living your optimal life.
We are all equally deserving of feeling loved and are all most worthwhile.
If you would like assistance with uncovering your optimal life and finding your meaning, contact Emmanuel of Life Can Be Different via www.ailmentsexposed.com or www.dreamsponsoring.com.
With Warmth, Love and Peace to You,
Yolanda
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