Forums
New posts
Search forums
What's new
New posts
New profile posts
Latest activity
Internet Search
Members
Current visitors
New profile posts
Search profile posts
Log in
Register
What's new
Search
Search
Search titles only
By:
New posts
Search forums
Menu
Log in
Register
Install the app
Install
Forums
General Discussions
Family of Origin
For Cedar or anyone: My dad did it again...
JavaScript is disabled. For a better experience, please enable JavaScript in your browser before proceeding.
You are using an out of date browser. It may not display this or other websites correctly.
You should upgrade or use an
alternative browser
.
Reply to thread
Message
<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 650984" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>It was not you who was screwed up back then, MWM.</p><p></p><p>If you could go back and watch a movie of those times knowing what you know now about your family of origin, you would see the bare bones toxicity, and your own repeated victimization, so clearly it would horrify you. You would want to blast in and save that little girl who was you. You would remember how young and how damaged and how empathic you were. You would remember trying so hard to find a place of balance, or to see how to think "right", how to do "right". That feeling of rightness and belonging is what those of us raised in toxic settings come to think of as love. </p><p></p><p>Love, for us, is the time we felt okay enough to have been accepted. The problem it created for us was that it was rare, very rare, for us to feel accepted in our families of origin without feeling we had betrayed something intrinsic to ourselves ~ like kindness, or empathy, or integrity; our very humanity, the self that flowered into being once we left our toxic families behind and that is squelched and cheapened and destroyed whenever we interact with our toxic families of origin, was the sacrifice required to "fit in".</p><p></p><p>Perhaps that is why I feel myself coalescing around a strong, sweet core of self I did not identify as me during all those years I was trying to make sense of my family of origin and how all the hurtful, destructive things fit together. I am delightfully surprised at myself sometimes, now. I am able to be a little separate from the way I was taught to view myself. </p><p></p><p>I can see the toxicity in it. </p><p></p><p>I feel badly for myself in one way and wildly, ecstatically and gratefully free in another.</p><p></p><p>It's over! I got out, got or am getting, free of it!</p><p></p><p>That's like, a miracle.</p><p></p><p>No one could have come through what we came through intact, MWM. Look how hard it is to understand our difficult child children. Imagine what it must have been for a couple of empathic girl children to grow up as we did, sensing the rage and pain and disgust and not understanding the undercurrents we could see so clearly that we had to try to bring things back into balance any way we knew.</p><p></p><p>We were different than them, and we learned to condemn ourselves for being different, for being wrong somehow, <em>because that is what they taught us to do. </em></p><p></p><p>It was not that you were selfish, or that you compromised ethics you were not clear on yet, yourself. You were a young girl trying to understand and survive a situation that horrified you and in which you had zero power or input <em>so when you remember it now you remember it the way they taught you to remember it</em>. You are taking on someone else's guilt. You had no power there, MWM. You had already been separated from your core values, from your integrity, from everything you knew was right, a million times.</p><p></p><p>This time, someone else was hurt, and so, you remember it because your own humanness will not allow you to see someone hurt without calling compassion and regret in you for your part in it.</p><p></p><p>You had no part, MWM.</p><p></p><p>You went along with your own mother, your own sister, your whole family.</p><p></p><p>Now you know better, and you will not be vulnerable to them, anymore.</p><p></p><p>Our families of origin were deeply toxic, MWM.</p><p></p><p>We are still unraveling the truth in so many of the unspoken rules of our upbringings.</p><p></p><p>What I see in this story is the similarity between the judgment you made about yourself as a coward for not protecting your brother and my own judgment of myself as a coward for not protecting mine. </p><p></p><p>That your sibling was ostracized in such an ugly way was traumatic for you because you are not like them.</p><p></p><p>You will never be like them.</p><p></p><p>I think the term "wanting" our families of origins to love us takes us down a wrong path. In families, there is an expectation (even now, even at the ages we are, now, with all we know and have seen) that love motivates the nature of our interactions with our families of origin.</p><p></p><p>This is not true.</p><p></p><p>Our families of origin were deadly, were and are deadly, toxic things.</p><p></p><p>We need to stop seeing ourselves through their eyes.</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 650984, member: 17461"] It was not you who was screwed up back then, MWM. If you could go back and watch a movie of those times knowing what you know now about your family of origin, you would see the bare bones toxicity, and your own repeated victimization, so clearly it would horrify you. You would want to blast in and save that little girl who was you. You would remember how young and how damaged and how empathic you were. You would remember trying so hard to find a place of balance, or to see how to think "right", how to do "right". That feeling of rightness and belonging is what those of us raised in toxic settings come to think of as love. Love, for us, is the time we felt okay enough to have been accepted. The problem it created for us was that it was rare, very rare, for us to feel accepted in our families of origin without feeling we had betrayed something intrinsic to ourselves ~ like kindness, or empathy, or integrity; our very humanity, the self that flowered into being once we left our toxic families behind and that is squelched and cheapened and destroyed whenever we interact with our toxic families of origin, was the sacrifice required to "fit in". Perhaps that is why I feel myself coalescing around a strong, sweet core of self I did not identify as me during all those years I was trying to make sense of my family of origin and how all the hurtful, destructive things fit together. I am delightfully surprised at myself sometimes, now. I am able to be a little separate from the way I was taught to view myself. I can see the toxicity in it. I feel badly for myself in one way and wildly, ecstatically and gratefully free in another. It's over! I got out, got or am getting, free of it! That's like, a miracle. No one could have come through what we came through intact, MWM. Look how hard it is to understand our difficult child children. Imagine what it must have been for a couple of empathic girl children to grow up as we did, sensing the rage and pain and disgust and not understanding the undercurrents we could see so clearly that we had to try to bring things back into balance any way we knew. We were different than them, and we learned to condemn ourselves for being different, for being wrong somehow, [I]because that is what they taught us to do. [/I] It was not that you were selfish, or that you compromised ethics you were not clear on yet, yourself. You were a young girl trying to understand and survive a situation that horrified you and in which you had zero power or input [I]so when you remember it now you remember it the way they taught you to remember it[/I]. You are taking on someone else's guilt. You had no power there, MWM. You had already been separated from your core values, from your integrity, from everything you knew was right, a million times. This time, someone else was hurt, and so, you remember it because your own humanness will not allow you to see someone hurt without calling compassion and regret in you for your part in it. You had no part, MWM. You went along with your own mother, your own sister, your whole family. Now you know better, and you will not be vulnerable to them, anymore. Our families of origin were deeply toxic, MWM. We are still unraveling the truth in so many of the unspoken rules of our upbringings. What I see in this story is the similarity between the judgment you made about yourself as a coward for not protecting your brother and my own judgment of myself as a coward for not protecting mine. That your sibling was ostracized in such an ugly way was traumatic for you because you are not like them. You will never be like them. I think the term "wanting" our families of origins to love us takes us down a wrong path. In families, there is an expectation (even now, even at the ages we are, now, with all we know and have seen) that love motivates the nature of our interactions with our families of origin. This is not true. Our families of origin were deadly, were and are deadly, toxic things. We need to stop seeing ourselves through their eyes. Cedar [/QUOTE]
Insert quotes…
Verification
Post reply
Forums
General Discussions
Family of Origin
For Cedar or anyone: My dad did it again...
Top