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Being who we are, even if FOO is different and doesn't like it
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<blockquote data-quote="New Leaf" data-source="post: 671947" data-attributes="member: 19522"><p>Good morning sister warriors</p><p> My eldest daughter is 36.The last time I saw her, she could not even meet my eyes with hers. Reading this, I think the last time she looked at me with loving eyes was .....16, that was 20 long years ago. That I let her in my house, feeling as she did, acting as she did over and over again, is a testament to my weakness. Because I was weak in this, her contempt for me only grew. I understand this now.</p><p></p><p></p><p>It does change nothing Cedar, it is what it is. As a mother, I looked at my children with memories of them as children. These memories led me to keep trying. What I had failed to realize, was that they had crossed the threshold into their own. In this capturing them as babes in my mind and heart, we both became trapped in the wrongness of it.</p><p>I, loving and enabling in spite of it all, she, despising me ever more for allowing it.</p><p>It is what it is. What's done is done. I cannot change what has happened, but I can change how I respond now.</p><p></p><p></p><p>I did not think of this frog reaching for something golden as this. It truly is a vivid imagery of what is, and what was. Thank you Cedar. I shall think of that song differently now.</p><p></p><p> This is true Cedar. Just as we were not meant to see ourselves through the eyes of our abusers. We were not meant to see ourselves through the eyes of our d cs. Oh, how they try to keep us captured in that, so that we will remain guilt ridden and in the state of remembering them as children. But they are not children, they are adults, responsible in every way for their choices.</p><p></p><p> So true.</p><p></p><p> And against ourselves. When I was in the difficulties of marriage with the hubs, I was desperate. I reached out to Attilla, who tried to convince my mother and I that I must pack up and come home. When speaking with my Mom on this, she very calmly said "You must be self sufficient, Leafy. There are shelters, there is help for you there, we love you." Then she hung up the phone. The words spun in my head. I did not get it then, but she was right to be strong like that for me in every bit of it. I am grateful now, that my Mom was strong enough to say this. She gave me my responsibility. How would my half Hawaiian-Chinese children fared, if I ripped them from their home and dragged them over the ocean and across the country? It would not have been fair to them, to myself, but most of all, to my parents. I did not see it then, but I see it now. I wish I had kept this lesson in my struggles with my d cs, but I forgot it. I forgot how strong I had to become to figure things out, to find my own solutions as an adult.</p><p></p><p></p><p>Yes Cedar, it is just what happened, and to me, and Feeling, and Copa. We cannot change our responses then, but we can now. With our newfound thinking from all of this hard work here, we can change our patterning.</p><p></p><p>The waves you see crashing at the harbor front are just that. Outside of the surf line, the ocean in its brilliant lapis lazuli blue, is very, very deep. There was much movement in the water out there, due to the swell, but it was big rolling waves, not whitewater. The whitewater is the turmoil. Yes the Kaiwi Channel can be as treacherous as the harbor front waves, but not the tubing break of shallow water. It can be big monstrous waves, boiling seas with heavy whitecaps. In 2012, the deep channel was strong current with big rollers. Big rolling waves are like a dream state. The canoe glides up, up, up, then down, down down. From the escort boat, the canoe appears and disappears, in and out of the trough. We follow along on this boat, cheering on our crew members, refueling our bodies with water and protein bars. We do 20 minute pieces in the canoe, 10 minute breaks in the escort boat. Then the coach calls for the change. Yelling out the seats that will make the switch. "Two, four, five." My heart pounds, for now, I shall have to move fast on the escort boat as it speeds ahead of the canoe to drop us in the sparkling waters. "Go, Go, Go!" The coach commands, as the boat rocks perilously to and fro, and I nimbly climb up the side of the heaving vessel and jump into the swirling waters below me, time slows with the magic of it. It is as if I am in slow motion, then the chill of the water wakes me from my awe. I take in a deep breath and swim to my sister paddlers, in formation of our seat order, we wave the canoe towards us. I am pushing myself to keep positive, for this is the hardest part of this test for me, hefting myself into a canoe barreling towards me. I must only take seconds to do this. The women in the canoe unzip the canvas, it appears and disappears. My heart is pounding, "I can do this" I say over and over in my mind. The canoe approaches, seats two, four, five, jump out as the canoe nears us. I place my hands upon the gunwale, find my seat, and let the momentum of the canoe hoist my body from the water and struggle in, zip the canvas, grab the paddle and paddle with all my might for the next 20 minutes. This happens over and over, until we reach the finish line.</p><p>The water was warm and cold Cedar, but we hardly have time to feel it.</p><p>We are set to the task, determined to be the strong link in the crew.</p><p></p><p>I have very big shoulders. In season, muscular, off ouch. It takes a lot of work and time to be of the right fitness to do this.</p><p>Yes Cedar, I was afraid. The dusty road to Hale O Lono harbor starts at the top of a hill and winds down to the sea. We rode in the back of a pick up truck, and as we turned to see the ocean, saw the huge waves crashing at the harbor front. A kind of hush fell over us. As a surfer, I know there is a timing to waves, that there are lulls where if one scrambles fast enough, one can get through. But this was different, we were not on surfboards.</p><p>The organizers of the race decided to hold it, knowing of the ocean. Trusting in the training and knowledge of coaches and crew. The announcement was that there was seven minutes between sets of waves, but what they forgot, was the unpredictability of the ocean, coupled with the rising tide. Some clubs were wise, and went to the start line completely around the waves. The harbor entrance is the typical ingress, so crews launched their canoes and paddled slowly out towards the breakers. I held my breath and watched from the shore. This was trouble. Locals from the island, on their vantage point from the jetty, shouted to the women that there was a lull ''Go, Go, Go!" So the women paddled forward. The observers had not seen, the waves becoming erratic in timing, as the women paddled, onlookers began shouting "NO!NO!NO!", but it was too late. My crew was up and over and through. The other crew we were with hulied (Hoo leed) turned over, and were busy trying to collect themselves and right their canoe.</p><p>I hurried to the escort boat, heart pounding. The remaining three women and I as well as our coach, were quiet as we headed towards the entrance. We chugged through the choppy protected harbor waters to the entrance and plowed through the waves, I held on as the escort boat went nearly vertical, my heart skips as I type this. Was I scared? Hell yah! But, we have to take that fear and turn it into courage. Because it is not all about self, it is about crew. We have to take that fear and turn it into courage.......</p><p></p><p> Cedar, you have courage in putting it this way. In that, you are a true friend. Yes Copa, I believe Cedar is correct in this.</p><p></p><p> Yes my sister warriors, we have to take our fears and turn them into courage, for ourselves, and our d cs. We need to show them through our courage, that we do not, will not accept ill treatment. That there are consequences for their actions.</p><p>Have courage Copa. He cannot come to Thanksgiving.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="New Leaf, post: 671947, member: 19522"] Good morning sister warriors My eldest daughter is 36.The last time I saw her, she could not even meet my eyes with hers. Reading this, I think the last time she looked at me with loving eyes was .....16, that was 20 long years ago. That I let her in my house, feeling as she did, acting as she did over and over again, is a testament to my weakness. Because I was weak in this, her contempt for me only grew. I understand this now. It does change nothing Cedar, it is what it is. As a mother, I looked at my children with memories of them as children. These memories led me to keep trying. What I had failed to realize, was that they had crossed the threshold into their own. In this capturing them as babes in my mind and heart, we both became trapped in the wrongness of it. I, loving and enabling in spite of it all, she, despising me ever more for allowing it. It is what it is. What's done is done. I cannot change what has happened, but I can change how I respond now. I did not think of this frog reaching for something golden as this. It truly is a vivid imagery of what is, and what was. Thank you Cedar. I shall think of that song differently now. This is true Cedar. Just as we were not meant to see ourselves through the eyes of our abusers. We were not meant to see ourselves through the eyes of our d cs. Oh, how they try to keep us captured in that, so that we will remain guilt ridden and in the state of remembering them as children. But they are not children, they are adults, responsible in every way for their choices. So true. And against ourselves. When I was in the difficulties of marriage with the hubs, I was desperate. I reached out to Attilla, who tried to convince my mother and I that I must pack up and come home. When speaking with my Mom on this, she very calmly said "You must be self sufficient, Leafy. There are shelters, there is help for you there, we love you." Then she hung up the phone. The words spun in my head. I did not get it then, but she was right to be strong like that for me in every bit of it. I am grateful now, that my Mom was strong enough to say this. She gave me my responsibility. How would my half Hawaiian-Chinese children fared, if I ripped them from their home and dragged them over the ocean and across the country? It would not have been fair to them, to myself, but most of all, to my parents. I did not see it then, but I see it now. I wish I had kept this lesson in my struggles with my d cs, but I forgot it. I forgot how strong I had to become to figure things out, to find my own solutions as an adult. Yes Cedar, it is just what happened, and to me, and Feeling, and Copa. We cannot change our responses then, but we can now. With our newfound thinking from all of this hard work here, we can change our patterning. The waves you see crashing at the harbor front are just that. Outside of the surf line, the ocean in its brilliant lapis lazuli blue, is very, very deep. There was much movement in the water out there, due to the swell, but it was big rolling waves, not whitewater. The whitewater is the turmoil. Yes the Kaiwi Channel can be as treacherous as the harbor front waves, but not the tubing break of shallow water. It can be big monstrous waves, boiling seas with heavy whitecaps. In 2012, the deep channel was strong current with big rollers. Big rolling waves are like a dream state. The canoe glides up, up, up, then down, down down. From the escort boat, the canoe appears and disappears, in and out of the trough. We follow along on this boat, cheering on our crew members, refueling our bodies with water and protein bars. We do 20 minute pieces in the canoe, 10 minute breaks in the escort boat. Then the coach calls for the change. Yelling out the seats that will make the switch. "Two, four, five." My heart pounds, for now, I shall have to move fast on the escort boat as it speeds ahead of the canoe to drop us in the sparkling waters. "Go, Go, Go!" The coach commands, as the boat rocks perilously to and fro, and I nimbly climb up the side of the heaving vessel and jump into the swirling waters below me, time slows with the magic of it. It is as if I am in slow motion, then the chill of the water wakes me from my awe. I take in a deep breath and swim to my sister paddlers, in formation of our seat order, we wave the canoe towards us. I am pushing myself to keep positive, for this is the hardest part of this test for me, hefting myself into a canoe barreling towards me. I must only take seconds to do this. The women in the canoe unzip the canvas, it appears and disappears. My heart is pounding, "I can do this" I say over and over in my mind. The canoe approaches, seats two, four, five, jump out as the canoe nears us. I place my hands upon the gunwale, find my seat, and let the momentum of the canoe hoist my body from the water and struggle in, zip the canvas, grab the paddle and paddle with all my might for the next 20 minutes. This happens over and over, until we reach the finish line. The water was warm and cold Cedar, but we hardly have time to feel it. We are set to the task, determined to be the strong link in the crew. I have very big shoulders. In season, muscular, off ouch. It takes a lot of work and time to be of the right fitness to do this. Yes Cedar, I was afraid. The dusty road to Hale O Lono harbor starts at the top of a hill and winds down to the sea. We rode in the back of a pick up truck, and as we turned to see the ocean, saw the huge waves crashing at the harbor front. A kind of hush fell over us. As a surfer, I know there is a timing to waves, that there are lulls where if one scrambles fast enough, one can get through. But this was different, we were not on surfboards. The organizers of the race decided to hold it, knowing of the ocean. Trusting in the training and knowledge of coaches and crew. The announcement was that there was seven minutes between sets of waves, but what they forgot, was the unpredictability of the ocean, coupled with the rising tide. Some clubs were wise, and went to the start line completely around the waves. The harbor entrance is the typical ingress, so crews launched their canoes and paddled slowly out towards the breakers. I held my breath and watched from the shore. This was trouble. Locals from the island, on their vantage point from the jetty, shouted to the women that there was a lull ''Go, Go, Go!" So the women paddled forward. The observers had not seen, the waves becoming erratic in timing, as the women paddled, onlookers began shouting "NO!NO!NO!", but it was too late. My crew was up and over and through. The other crew we were with hulied (Hoo leed) turned over, and were busy trying to collect themselves and right their canoe. I hurried to the escort boat, heart pounding. The remaining three women and I as well as our coach, were quiet as we headed towards the entrance. We chugged through the choppy protected harbor waters to the entrance and plowed through the waves, I held on as the escort boat went nearly vertical, my heart skips as I type this. Was I scared? Hell yah! But, we have to take that fear and turn it into courage. Because it is not all about self, it is about crew. We have to take that fear and turn it into courage....... Cedar, you have courage in putting it this way. In that, you are a true friend. Yes Copa, I believe Cedar is correct in this. Yes my sister warriors, we have to take our fears and turn them into courage, for ourselves, and our d cs. We need to show them through our courage, that we do not, will not accept ill treatment. That there are consequences for their actions. Have courage Copa. He cannot come to Thanksgiving. [/QUOTE]
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