Little girl #1

All the things we internalize everyday would really be amazing if we could look at them in a material sense. I am learning now I internalized a lot of SHIT and it was just that SHIT, not even my SHIT, OTHER PEOPLES SHIT.

This self-reflection is a powerful ride. I am not sure what else I am going to uncover but I realized the past couple of weeks that as a piece of soft clay as a child we take in a lot of things. Things we hear and remember but have zero idea that they are damaging or even effecting us.

So this all revolves around the little girl in the picture below. She is the one who was wounded and that now I am healing so she can be at peace and know she is and was enough.

Turns out my mother was very damaged even earlier in my life, or maybe all my life but I was just unaware of it. Children are resilient and they will love you through it all.

I am a child of the 70’s I am sure I ate the paint off my crib, I know I inhaled more second hand smoke than most current smokers and I was not a product of a helicopter mom.

My parents got married because they got pregnant. We know that was the social norm then and the reality is that was not the best solution for people. The two people who are my parents especially. I have been told how in love they were when they met blah blah blah. But the reality is the life I lived with them was not the life that anyone should choose to live. I am not sure if they enjoyed the torture of each other or that it was some sick penance.

My mother definitely has some mental illness which took me years to realize and it was not until I was all grown up and away from it to realize it fully. My father is an alcoholic. He was not a happy drunk he was and is an angry drunk. These two souls produced me and somehow I have escaped being like either of them.

I share the background because I think you will get a fuller picture of what the above little girl represents to me today.  I was and am still a pleaser and a fixer. After the dust cleared from the previous nights drunken bender and fighting between my parents. I was up early and I cleaned the house so it was perfect. It was like something out of Snow White. They had ash trays and beer cans, pepsi bottles and over turned furniture when they went to bed. Yet they awoke to a clean house that shined..

So it is 1981 and I wore glasses. The trend for fashion had the original flare in the form of a foil sticker you could put in the lower part of your fashionable oversized glasses. Above you can see my flare – #1 in Silver.  So the picture from school in both look like I have it together and I am a confident girl who did not care what the world thought. Well that may have been true but my mother worked to chip that away little by little.

I recall these 2 incidents that shook me and I carried for the last 30 plus years. First I was walking my yellow lab down the block and some high school boys came down the street in a car and yelled out the window “Look at that dog, walking a dog.” I was struck cold. It wounded me yet I shook it off and still can tell you exactly how I felt and where I was on 51st Avenue when that happened.  The second gives me more insight into my mothers drama and need to feel better and prettier than me which I did not think was that strong until 8th grade. WRONG.

I remember getting the glasses flare and I think I still had my shit together. Yet I recall more than once my mother asking other family and friends who I thought I was to put that on my glasses? Seriously bitch? I was a little girl who still had self worth and was happy. Crushing her did not make you better nor did it really work. Media crushes us every day if we let it and yet I have my mother telling me here that I have a problem.

I am telling that little girl, you are #1 and you are good enough. Put yourself first baby, because no one else will.
Love your adult self.

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