When I was a teenager, I was uncomfortable with uncertainty. It felt like acid eating me from the inside. In some respects, that’s what I craved, to be eaten away so that nothing was left of me or the pain I felt.
Today, I accept uncertainty as a way of life. However, there are some things of which I am certain, which makes all the difference in how I feel about living in this world. I know that I am loved unconditionally by my children, my husband, my dogs, and tremendously by my God. Perhaps, this last awareness is what allows me to embrace uncertainty and all that I am, and all that life is.
When I was a teen, being me was fraught, as it is with many teens, with heartache and self-doubt. Being happy, whole and self-confident was an unattainable dream. I’m glad to have lived through those days and to have come out the other side of adulthood with all those desirable aspects in my possession.
“My mom let me leave home at age fifteen. She even typed a letter and had it notarized at the bank giving me her permission to travel alone.”
My mom let me leave home at age fifteen. She even typed a letter and had it notarized at the bank giving me her permission to travel alone. I started from the Midwest, traveled to the West coast, to the far Southwest, to the East, bumming rides, hitch hiking, staying with friends, staying with strangers, doing what I had to do to survive. When I arrived home half a year later, my parents were divorced, and my mother was living in a new apartment. She said, “You stink.” I did. I hadn’t bathed in days or washed my clothes in weeks. But she said, “I’m glad you’re home,” and that was that. She didn’t ask me how I was doing. Wasn’t curious about my experiences. Perhaps she was afraid to know.
Fear and anguish cause us to hide from so many of our realities. In recovering from such experiences, I’ve had to face the reality that I wasn’t protected by my parents, and how harsh and gut wrenchingly painful that fact was. I’ve had to face the rashness of my choices, the reality of my isolation and grief. The reality of self-loathing. Facing all of it was a kind of death. What I have gained is myself.
I found the courage to forgive myself, and my mom. (My dad died years ago. I forgave him, too.) She has never apologized for her mistakes as a mother. Never asked me how I felt. Never wants to listen when I broach difficult topics. I pray for her and for all people who run in fear and blindness from the pain that would show them the way to their better selves, if only they faced their emotions. It takes guidance in therapy and/or prayer, but most of all it takes bravery and courage. That’s what it takes to find oneself.
Bravery and courage.
I never take for granted the desire within me to be whole and to be a wholesome home for my family, my friends, and everyone I meet. May we all endeavor to make good homes for ourselves and one another.