I Have Something To Say

Healing can be a long process, especially from complex trauma. There is an entire lifetime of coping mechanisms that survivors must unravel before they can decide what to keep and what to toss out. The process of becoming who you really are is tough for anyone, but for those who survived childhood abuse, it means learning fundamental aspects of development that were previously denied. When a baby learns that their caretaker is unreliable, it is extremely difficult to expect others to be reliable throughout their whole life. This deficit creates a whole host of coping mechanisms in survivors. Some become combative and antisocial. Others go to the opposite end of the spectrum. I am the kind of survivor who learned to cope by being extremely self-sufficient. I hid behind the masks of "I'm fine" and "That's okay." I never required much from my relationships because it was reinforced enough times for me to know on a visceral level that I would be let down. I...

Because I had been raised by abusers, I used to think that I could handle difficult people. I see the traps long before most people do, and I thought seeing them meant I could manage to avoid them. But I learned in the hardest way possible that I am not immune to abusive people in my present. I can manage abusive behavior, but it takes its toll on my mental, emotional, and physical health. For me, being around an abusive person, even if I am not the one being targeted, triggers all my past trauma.  It literally feels like poison in my body. When it comes to narcissism and other incurable personality disorders, the only solution is to get far away. Toxic people see an opportunity in me to be their codependent. You see, I have empathy. I am a hard worker. I have integrity. I play nice and get along with others. I allow others to have the spotlight. I prefer to let my own actions speak for themselves. I believe in the principles of "yes, and." I am a peacemaker. I ...

I married the kind of person who talks to strangers. Willingly. If someone I don't know tries to approach me, a million thoughts race through my head in the split second when I am trying to decide  whether that person is going to rape me, kill me, or ask where the bathroom is.  My husband is the kind of person who always takes the flyer from the guy on the street while I push past, avoiding eye contact. My husband is open, transparent, and generally trusting. It's one of the many reasons why I love and admire him. But I'm not like that. I have my reasons. Perhaps it is partly due to my gender. Women are wary of getting harassed by strangers in ways that many men never think about. Or perhaps it is because my husband is an extrovert and I am an introvert. But I also think there is a learned hesitation that I developed from my abusive childhood. I need to gauge how "safe" a person is before I share any part of myself, whether it's a simple glance or my life...