I've stopped judging the scar of abandonment and hating on it and me. I've stopped shaping my life around it

As a child, it’s hard to conceive why a parent isn’t around or doesn’t treat you with love, care, trust and respect. We then determine that for a grownup to behave in this way, we must have done something “really really bad” or been just flat-out “unlovable”.

Once we stop using the same childhood reasoning habits and become more mindful of the destructive coping mechanisms that we originally designed to protect ourselves and to make us “more lovable”, on some level we still struggle to conceive why the abandonment happened. We might get things logically, but emotionally a part of us wonders:

But why didn’t/don’t [my parents] at least try?

Why am I always the one that has to try? How come it’s always me that has to make allowances? To be super understanding? To put aside the past and my own feelings?

In adulthood, we strive for accolades.

The author wants the book deal, not ‘just’ to be self-published. The singer wants an album on a label, not ‘just’ what they’ve created off of their own back. The hard-working person wants the acknowledgement, the awards or perhaps even just a shift in their co-workers behaviour so that they feel more appreciated and validated. The person who’s achieved a lot wants what they deem as their pinnacle of success. For example, to have their ideal romantic relationship and to feel safe and secure.

None of these desires are strange. However, sometimes we don’t stop for long enough to question why they matter and what we think will happen to us [when we get them]. When we experience our desires, we might enjoy them. But sometimes, they don’t take the form we imagine. We thought it would feel so much better or be that much easier, and yet it isn’t.

Since I started writing Baggage Reclaim in 2005 (yay!), my self-exploration has led to regularly reflecting on why an explanation or that love matters that much. What difference would it make?

The explanation, which can often be very light in comparison to the weight we’ve carried, will only really cover so much. This is especially so because much of the pain is self-imposed. Even if we get an explanation for the abandonment, we often analyse that too. We search for more answers as if we’re going to achieve ‘100%’. When the explanation doesn’t cover our experience and we’re still holding out for answers, we look for other inappropriate substitutes to do it. And so the self-blame habit continues.

We are never going to be able to ‘fully’ understand abandonment.

We want to take away the pain or make the periodical grief feelings, that often catch us off guard, disappear forever. We believe understanding and validation are the solution, even though no matter how much we investigate the past, we can’t change it. What we can change is the narrative, the judgments, about those events so that we change our present and future, because, ultimately, how we judge ourselves for who that person wasn’t is the deciding factor.

The grief feelings won’t ‘vanish’. They show up from time to time no matter how good we feel about ourselves. Why? Because there are times, whether we had our parent around or not, that our younger parts feel vulnerable or when grief shows up as a result of an experience.

Loss reminds us of other losses. This pop-up pain is an opportunity to grieve the loss from a different angle and heal even further, grounding and growing ourselves. It’s too much to expect to be permanently rid of certain feelings. Especially because feelings guide and direct us on what we need at that moment.

We can empathise with our parents (once we’ve cut the proverbial cord instead of seeing them as being reflective of our inadequacies). However, we’ve gotta stop trying to figure them out. On some level, no matter how small, that little kid inside us thinks the key to our peace and validation is our parent’s pocket.

Trying to understand others to the nth degree doesn’t bring peace.

No matter how much we try to understand the past, we can't change it. What we can change is the narrative that we apply to our present.

As I said in episode 5 of The Baggage Reclaim Sessions, we often understand far more than we give ourselves credit for. The issue is we don’t like what we understand. Especially if we’re judging ourselves for it or acceptance means the end of a fantasy or our having to take action. We need to accept all of what we know and stop guilting and berating ourselves for acknowledging our experience or knowledge. If we don’t, we’ll just keep repeating variations of the experiences.

If you’ve struggled with abandonment, you likely already know it turns you into someone who is reflexively guilty, over-responsible, and prone to comparison. As a result, you need to be very conscious, aware and present to break the cycle.

As a kid, you feel guilty for missing the parent and still loving them in spite of their absence or treatment. Even more so when your other parent is still there. Or you feel bad because you have a step-parent, so ‘surely’ you should be okay.

If the remaining parent is angry or miserable, you take the rap for that too. And then you feel guilty for wanting to be a kid or to express your own feelings. Or you feel bad for no longer caring or for being angry.

By blaming yourself, you wonder if, for instance, sibling pain is your fault too.

Envying your friends and others triggers guilt, but then you feel worthless due to comparison. You feel guilty for feeling sad and lost even though you’re not alone or “bigger problems in the world”. Maybe you associate the confusion and grief of abandonment with a lack of gratitude for being taken in or kept. Then you push down your feelings and wonder why you feel so depressed and lonely. You wonder if there’s something wrong with you for not being more “over it”.

Perhaps you feel guilty for speaking your mind or giving a voice to those feelings. After all, much of society is still very uncomfortable with adult children flagging up their pain or experiences.

You feel guilty for not being able to wipe your memory or for not being okay with the lies everyone else is. And maybe you also feel anger and disappointment about the entourage of people who keep propping up your parent but who never truly empathise with you, often assigning you the responsibility of building bridges.

The abandonment isn’t your fault. Never was, never will be.

There is nothing you could have done to change your parent. Your worth has nothing to do with their actions. Inadequate parenting doesn’t equal inadequate child. You can start to consciously choose the direction of your thoughts and the direction of your life. Whatever answers you seek in others, including your parent(s), you are the only one who can give you permission and choices.

Three quarters of my life so far was about abandonment. The last decade has been about reclaiming myself from that story. I’ve learned that you have to consciously redefine yourself after spending a period self-defining on your perception of an experience and/or other people’s behaviour.

I’ve had to consciously question guilt, blame, shame, fear and obligation each time they show up at my door.

I’ve learned that we can be very hard on ourselves and our inner critic is sneaky. Our inner critic goes from busting our chops for not being “good enough” and for still being affected, to giving us a hard time for not being “affected enough” and for not being the Good Daughter/Son/Child. That’s when you realise that the inner critic is nonsensical and to stop giving it so much airtime.

I have scars on my right leg and inner left thigh from a childhood skin graft for a birthmark I was born with that doctors felt had the potential to become cancerous. For a long time, the scars were another indicator of my damaged status. I anticipated the stares, questions and snap judgements. At some point the scars stopped being a focal point. I stopped judging them. Now, I have to go out of my way to notice the scars. In accepting them, I’ve closed off that area of self-rejection. When I do remember the scars, it’s because something else I associate them with, brings them to mind. 

Remembering, acknowledging the scars doesn’t mean I’m not okay.

Ten years down the road from that summer that woke me up to myself and what the real meaning of my experiences were, that’s where I’ve gotten to with this whole abandonment thang– I’ve stopped judging the scar of abandonment and hating on it and me. I’ve stopped shaping my life around it.

I forgive my younger self for being so tough on me and, as a result, feel less shackled to the past. The parent hunger pangs are fading out.

My parents are my parents, but I am my primary caregiver. The scar fades bit by bit over time and the proximity of the pain, actual or remembered, recedes further into the distance, as long as I take care of my thoughts and my actions right now, which help me take care of myself.

Take care of you.

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