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For Cedar or anyone: My dad did it again...
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<blockquote data-quote="Scent of Cedar *" data-source="post: 651040" data-attributes="member: 17461"><p>You were a little girl.</p><p></p><p>Something precious, and so rare.</p><p></p><p>You may have needed guidance and coping skills...but so does every child. </p><p></p><p>That is why we have children! To love them where they are, and to be part of their unfolding, to be part of the miracle that life is.</p><p></p><p>What you surely needed, what we all need, or we will not thrive, was to be valued for exactly who you were, and to be cherished and respected for who you became.</p><p></p><p>The phrase that can stop me, every time (this is especially true around writing, around that whole beautiful dream of writing and of being a writer) is: </p><p></p><p>"Who do you think you are."</p><p></p><p>Beautifully parented children would be able to respond: "I don't know. Let's go see!" There again, if we can listen and hear it, that is where children who were victimized into carrying family dysfunction can learn to heal.</p><p></p><p>"Who do you think you are."</p><p></p><p>The answer, of course, is that none of us knows, until we try ~ but we are hard-wired, as Brenne Brown writes, for challenge.</p><p></p><p>Hard wired.</p><p></p><p>That is how I know we can come right through this with flying colors, MWM.</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Unless I am wrong, your sister is manipulating your brother.</p><p></p><p>My sister and I had made a pact when we were younger.</p><p></p><p>It was my sister who came up with it. </p><p></p><p>The pact was that we would forge a loyal, loving relationship despite the way we'd grown up. So, through all the strangnesses over the years, I kept choosing to honor that pact and not take it seriously. Once my father had died and my mother was there with my sister, my brother would ask and ask me whether I had heard, how was our mother, when was she coming home. I was not hearing from them either, except sporadically. </p><p></p><p>So, I told my sister she had to keep contact with this brother at least once a month. I reminded her of the pact we had made. When she refused, I told her I expected her to do this, and would accept nothing less. </p><p></p><p>And she exploded all over Facebook private messaging with the nastiest language and sentiments! She simply refused. She was too busy. She had a thousand things to do and could not be bothered and etc. </p><p></p><p>When I called her on the language she was using?</p><p></p><p>She blamed it on the devil.</p><p></p><p>Isn't that something.</p><p></p><p>And my mother got nastier and my brother kept (and continues, as far as I know) to try to do the best he knows for my mother. And time passed, and the upshot is that my brother is not talking to either sister.</p><p></p><p>And I don't blame him and think he is very healthy in that choice.</p><p></p><p>Our families of origin reflect images as distorted as funhouse mirrors, MWM. There is nothing there to trust. In our healing, we first need to learn to disbelieve how we have been taught to see ourselves <em>and one another.</em></p><p></p><p>Here is an exercise. It's purpose is to ferret out and confront unrecognized self condemnation attached to our names.</p><p></p><p>Write each phrase twelve times.</p><p></p><p>"I, name, am the beloved daughter of the Most High God."</p><p></p><p>"She, name, is the beloved daughter of the Most High God."</p><p></p><p>"You, name, are the beloved daughter of the Most High God."</p><p></p><p>You will be surprised at the results.</p><p></p><p>:O)</p><p></p><p>Cedar</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Scent of Cedar *, post: 651040, member: 17461"] You were a little girl. Something precious, and so rare. You may have needed guidance and coping skills...but so does every child. That is why we have children! To love them where they are, and to be part of their unfolding, to be part of the miracle that life is. What you surely needed, what we all need, or we will not thrive, was to be valued for exactly who you were, and to be cherished and respected for who you became. The phrase that can stop me, every time (this is especially true around writing, around that whole beautiful dream of writing and of being a writer) is: "Who do you think you are." Beautifully parented children would be able to respond: "I don't know. Let's go see!" There again, if we can listen and hear it, that is where children who were victimized into carrying family dysfunction can learn to heal. "Who do you think you are." The answer, of course, is that none of us knows, until we try ~ but we are hard-wired, as Brenne Brown writes, for challenge. Hard wired. That is how I know we can come right through this with flying colors, MWM. Unless I am wrong, your sister is manipulating your brother. My sister and I had made a pact when we were younger. It was my sister who came up with it. The pact was that we would forge a loyal, loving relationship despite the way we'd grown up. So, through all the strangnesses over the years, I kept choosing to honor that pact and not take it seriously. Once my father had died and my mother was there with my sister, my brother would ask and ask me whether I had heard, how was our mother, when was she coming home. I was not hearing from them either, except sporadically. So, I told my sister she had to keep contact with this brother at least once a month. I reminded her of the pact we had made. When she refused, I told her I expected her to do this, and would accept nothing less. And she exploded all over Facebook private messaging with the nastiest language and sentiments! She simply refused. She was too busy. She had a thousand things to do and could not be bothered and etc. When I called her on the language she was using? She blamed it on the devil. Isn't that something. And my mother got nastier and my brother kept (and continues, as far as I know) to try to do the best he knows for my mother. And time passed, and the upshot is that my brother is not talking to either sister. And I don't blame him and think he is very healthy in that choice. Our families of origin reflect images as distorted as funhouse mirrors, MWM. There is nothing there to trust. In our healing, we first need to learn to disbelieve how we have been taught to see ourselves [I]and one another.[/I] Here is an exercise. It's purpose is to ferret out and confront unrecognized self condemnation attached to our names. Write each phrase twelve times. "I, name, am the beloved daughter of the Most High God." "She, name, is the beloved daughter of the Most High God." "You, name, are the beloved daughter of the Most High God." You will be surprised at the results. :O) Cedar [/QUOTE]
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