The evolution of an anchor baby
The last few days felt like I am living somebody else's story. If I'm being honest, it had felt that way since July and became worse when I moved in with my dad as his primary caregiver. There are days when I feel like I'm reliving moments of my childhood when I badly needed help and support but had to be strong and shove my emotions away so I do not add more stress to my family. But this time, I do not have the luxury of saying, "I'm just a kid. I need an adult to support me." I have grown up to become the self-sufficient adult I worked hard to be. But my responsibilities are still the same. In my early 20's I kept investing in abusive relationships, so desperate to make them work because, in my head, I thought having a family of my own was the only way my parents would see I have a valid life outside theirs. I eventually developed self-worth and moved on to aim for financial stability. I thought I could pay my way through my responsibilities if I had enough money. But life happens and continues to show you that it is always so much deeper than what you think it is.
I am the nicest I have ever been to myself, and I feel like I have reached my version of success, or at least what I think success is at this moment in my life. It took a lot of healing to develop the right mindset and habits to get me here. But what resurfaces a lot now that I'm transitioning into another significant change is that I still feel like that neglected child who keeps giving her all to people and not getting the same love back. The 15 year old that feels so drained from giving her light away because people she cared about were so careless about exposing their darkness. The little kid that had to grow up so fast because it was her only way of staying above water.
I do not know how much more strength, grace, and kindness I have left in me. But I know my body is screaming, telling me to continue the healing path I started even before this new shift happened. I am struggling emotionally to cope, to process losing my mom while caring for my dad, while I'm also awakening to how the imbalance in their marriage has caused a lot of distress in our family that, up until now, they still will not take responsibility for. Which left us, children, still picking up the pieces for them. I'm digging deep and looking at what does 'healing' mean to me? How can I ensure that little kid who feels so wounded that she does have a support system? That she can trust and love people without constantly being on guard and waiting for the other shoe to drop?
It starts with being honest with myself. It begins with me speaking my truth instead of protecting how other people will look or feel. Through my radical self-acceptance, I will find community. It's about unlearning the notion that my authentic self is too much. That little kid inside me felt like she was constantly being praised for the things that didn't matter to her, and the things she cared about were too insignificant. So I owe it to that little girl to share my voice and not be afraid of being vulnerable. I can't wait for the day when this is just a riveting chapter of character development in my story. Until then, I still have the strength to support. I still have a lot of love to give. I'm still experiencing losses that I need to grieve. I may still experience panic attacks and dissociative episodes caused by complex trauma, and that's okay. I give myself permission to slow down, recenter, and rebuild.
- Ericke