Belonging

This is a photo of me when I was three years old. When I look at it, I have such love and compassion, the innocence and playfulness is unmistakable. Something we all have at that age. The world is new and all we seek is love. I remember how my family would dance after dinner, mom and dad, my two older sisters, and our daschund, Heidi. Family camping trips, new clothes for school, lots of hugs and kisses, I had plenty of love.

When I was six or seven my parents and I were at our neighbours, the grown ups were having cocktails in the living room while my friend and I played all around the house. I was in the hallway approaching the living room, (probably to hide in the nearby closet) the adults were talking and I overheard my parents say, “Lisa was an accident…”

Wow….. I stood frozen. The life drained out of me, making room for deep sadness to set in. I was an accident? You mean I’m not supposed to be here? Don’t they want me? I had no concept of what to do. These few words established the course of my life, and I was never the same again. I was, after all, a blank canvas for beliefs and values to land and stick. My parents were the ones who loved me the most in this world and they thought I was an accident. So, I must be, that’s who I was, an accident. My little shattered mind knew no better.

I wish I had waltzed into that living room and said, “Hey, wait a minute!” But I didn’t, I kept it to myself. I buried my devastation and shut down, afraid to ruffle any feathers or be a bother in any way.

Now to be fair and not throw my parents under the bus, I had a happy childhood, and they continued to love me as always. I see now, my “happy” had a low ceiling. I never wanted to be the cause of any grief for my parents, so I didn’t act out or say what I was feeling. I sucked up my emotions and stayed in the shadows. Pleasing them, and everyone else became my modus operandi.

As I became a teenager, I minimized my experience because I knew there were children who experienced far worse than this. But the suppression was deep, and by then, a part of who I was. “Being an accident” was in my blood and in my bones. If only I had talked to someone about it, preferably my parents, but I was too afraid to face it. As I grew into my 20’s, I would joke to them about what I heard and they always reassured me I was a “good” accident. I’ve not wanted to upset them and so I’ve never told them of the impact that one statement made so long ago, had on my psyche.

As I approached my 30’s, I was able to reflect on their situation. My mom was 30 when she had me, and they already had two little girls, ages six and seven. I was an unexpected pregnancy, I get it. By this time, life had presented me with countless opportunities to wake up to my emotional patterns. I had been feeling displaced for so long that I had forgotten why I felt how I felt. I recall the moment of clarity when I realized I could choose how to respond to life and to people. My fixed perception was keeping me from feeling fully alive. It was so freeing to become aware of the fact that I must belong as much as anyone, I was still here wasn’t I? That’s the beauty of perception, we can change it, and it was time for me to do so.

Like relationships, emotions can be short-lived, stick around for a chapter or two, or stay for a lifetime. Once I put the pieces together and had an understanding of myself, I took on the responsibility of self-change with great determination. It’s been (and still is) a process that keeps me alert to what is going on within and around me. For the most part, I don’t let myself off the hook when I want to revert back to my old, worn out ways of thinking and behaving, it just doesn’t feel like me anymore. I seek help from the Holy Spirit and never dreamt I could feel so connected and so content. Granted, I do have my moments. I have forgiven my parents for what they did not know, and I have forgiven myself for holding on so long to a belief that was never true. Now, instead of feeling sad when I look at my three year old self, I smile and know that she belongs and is happy with who she is.

Re-examine all that you have been told, or read in any books, and dismiss whatever insults your own soul. – Walt Whitman

The emptiness engendered by fear must be replaced by forgiveness. – A Course in Miracles, T11