For as long as I can remember I have always felt out of place, trapped in a place where I don’t belong.
I remember being that little girl and feeling invisible. No child should ever feel invisible, but I did, unsure if any of my family could really see me.
My childhood was spent questioning my existence. I spent days and night wondering if any of them would miss me if I were to disappear. Thoughts of running away and sometimes even suicide filled my dreams.
They couldn’t see how much I cared for them, how much I longed for them to love me. They still don’t see. I have spent what seems like a lifetime trying to fit in. I have spent years trying to be the daughter they wanted, trying to be good enough…but I have never been good enough. I don’t fit in. I never have.
I knew I was unwanted from the age of 13, when members of my family told me I was a mistake, but even before then I felt out of place. Maybe it was because of what he was doing to me. Maybe it was because they made me feel like I just got in the way. I felt like I didn’t matter and that I was not worthy of their love.
I spent my childhood feeling abandoned and alone. I grew up feeling hurt and wondering what was wrong with me; why didn’t they love me? Why didn’t they want me?
Even so, I have always been afraid of losing them. They are the only family I have I have ever known. Except now I realise that I lost them a long time ago. I lost them the day they chose to stand by my abuser.
Or maybe they lost me that day?
I have always been afraid of letting go of them and letting go of what I thought was real. Playing happy families at Christmas’ and birthdays, I would pretend everything was OK. I would wear my smile knowing it was a lie, too afraid to see how trapped I really was. I was too scared to walk away, stuck by fear and shame.
The truth is they let go of me a long time ago. I was just too scared to see it. Hoping and longing for the day that I would be good enough for them. That day never came and it never will. I don’t belong with them. I don’t belong with any of them. I never have.
It is hard to carry on living knowing you were brought into this world, not with love and joy, but instead resented and unwanted. Knowing you were a mistake… but I am here.
I ask myself a lot why I am here. What is my purpose?
Right now I don’t know why I am here but I do know that it is OK to walk out of someone’s life if you feel that you don’t belong in it.
People always say that family is everything but that is not the case for me. It is not the case for many childhood abuse victims, as it is their family who hurt them and it is their family who betrayed them.
I do not belong with my birth family and as much as it hurts, I can never change that. I wish things were different. I wish they loved me. I wish I belonged with them, but I don’t. They hurt me.
I belong with my husband and his family. I belong with my friends, who have never left me and continue to stick by me. I belong with the people from work that support me. I belong with the people who fight for me every day. They are my real family.
Family is belonging and believing in each other.
My family is not my blood but that is OK. I never belonged with my blood family anyway.
I have my real family and the best thing is they picked me. They chose me. They love me for me and they accept me for who I am.
They are my real family. They are helping me find my wings. They are helping me grow into a butterfly.
With them is where I belong.
Thanks for reading.
*Image from Google images*