My mother initiated the divorce when I was 9. She left my dad for his friend. It was downplayed, it was minimized and it was made out to be something different than what it really was. I see it for what it is now, as it matches the patterns of everything else clearly. It's her go-to defense mechanism for survival. If not for that, I'm not sure how she could live with her self at this point.
Shortly after the divorce came the re-marriage; which they had to hop state lines to accomplish because WI has a "cooling off" period between divorce and marriage licenses being issued.
Almost immediately after the covert out of state elopement, the control and manipulation started and this toxic environment made it difficult for me go back and forth between my parents so eventually I stopped seeing my dad altogether. Once my safe parent was out of my life, I was in the perfect spot for grooming and this made it even easier to be controlled and eventually abused by my mother's husband.
From the age of 11 to almost 18, I had little to no contact with my father and his family. After the hell my mother put him through, he was a broken man for a while. Hearing me say the words I was coerced into saying "don't pick me up, I don't ever want to see you again" must have killed whatever was left inside of him and so he didn't try.
Fortunately during this time he met and married an amazing woman. (and even more fortunately for me, she has become a better mom to me than my own!) But in this time, with no relationship with my daddy and the family I'd known my whole life; my young developing mind underwent trauma that I wouldn't understand until years later. Even when at 19, I had my first child and my dad was there, and then at almost 20, I married and began to see my family regularly; I still felt this gap. I felt this cavernous hole and all the pain associated with the missing years at every single family gathering.
I didn't understand what was happening at first. Prior to family gatherings I would just turn into a raving lunatic... taking out all my anxiety on my poor husband. I always thought it was the stress of packing...because most visits involved "going up north" and included packing for several days. (and that IS stressful!)But then inevitably and almost immediately upon leaving (usually in the car) I would burst into tears. Honestly, sometimes I even shed tears in private while still visiting.
As I gained awareness of my anxieties and learned how to work through them it became easier but it's been a long hard road. One of the things that was key to my healing was giving myself permission to grieve the loss. I had to see myself as that little girl who's life was torn upside down, who's fault it never was and let her cry it out over and over. With no self judgement. (that wasn't easy after years of abuse...but that's been something else I'm working on too)
Over the years there were times of pushing people away because I thought it was easier than feeling the pain. (and I had myself convinced that no one really loved me-that was an entirely different battle) but once I was able to truly understand that facing the "gap" head on and making the most out of any time spent together was the only way to minimize the damage of this gap, that is when true healing has taken place. I know there will always be a scar, but the searing pain has faded with time and in it's place is an awareness of joy and blessings.
This weekend we had a family wedding and I was able to see my entire family; hug them, embrace them, love them, feel loved by them and walk away feeling incredible joy. Today I cried at the realization that I've come so far.
Does it still sting a little when I remember all the years I've missed out on with my daddy? (and the rest of the family) Damn right, it always will. But I'm not looking backwards. I'm in the present; ever grateful for every moment I have now.
