Thursday, February 15, 2018

Growing Up Red, Part 2

Growing Up Red, Part 2

Part One can be found HERE

I learned pretty early that my biggest bully was my own mother.  For whatever reason, she just never really liked me at all.  It all started there.  I figured out after many, MANY years that the whole reason I allowed others to bully me was because it was something I was quite accustomed to.  If I'd ever talked back to my mother through her bullying and narcissistic sociopath behavior, I'd have gotten spanked - or worse.  My father was more the 'hands on' kind of parent.  My mother conditioned me and taught me young to just take it, "or else."

The bullies in school certainly helped to reinforce those early lessons, especially as our ages progressed.  Things became more and more violent as the years went on.  Strangely, I was more accepted by the kids in my school once my mother bleached my hair blonde at 16 years old, but I was still incredibly self conscious.  I didn't have a firm grasp on who I was as a person.  I'd never really been allowed to be who I was, or to figure out who that might be.  It wasn't OK for me to just be myself, not in my household.  Systematically I was stripped of my dignity, pride and all personal possessions because I finally decided to fight back.  I'll never forget the day I sat at the dining room table, being told what the newest creative punishment would be.  I said nothing. I reacted not at all.  I just sat there.  At the end my parents asked what I was thinking.  That was truly the first time I ever stood up for myself and I spoke through a trembling, frightened voice.  But my strength and resolve grew as I spoke.  I smiled the entire time I spoke. 

"You've taken everything away from me.  Everything.  My bed, my clothes, my radio and music. Any TV privileges, my friends.  My bedroom door.  Everything.  But you haven't taken away my spirit. And you never will.  You can't take away anything else, there's nothing more to take.  You can hit me all you want. But there's nothing else you can do to me.  You'll never break me. "  I got up and walked away.  I fully expected to be pushed down the stairs or kicked while I walked away, but I'd simply "taken it" for so long that I left them dumbfounded.  They didn't say a word as I left them sitting at the table and I walked the entire length and staircase, all the way to my bedroom.





My father and I, 1997.  Obvious distance.


That was a turning point for me.  It wasn't until years later that I really stood up for myself and told my father that I had friends who had been there for me more than he ever had.  I told my mother she was a bully and that I wanted nothing more to do with her.  They still try from time to time (last night in fact) to have an impact on my life.  They've tried to tell different radio and news publications that I've never been kidnapped or raped or nearly sold into the human trafficking industry.  They've tried to turn my friends against me, telling them that I'm full of lies.  They even tried to end relationships of mine (and on occasion have succeeded with glowing review).  These days when I get to know someone well enough, I preface any friendship commitment with the fair warning that my mother might try to contact them, and that it will be venom they receive.  Time and again, they've only proven that to be correct.  Last night was only the most recent.

In 2013 I attended a seminar for Flight Attendant training.  In that seminar, we were challenged to "Say what you need to say."  All of us, no matter who we are, or where we've come from, ALL of us, have something we've never said to someone because we are afraid of hurting their feelings, making them mad, causing irreversible damage to whatever relationship we might possibly have.  They challenged us to finally say what we've always needed to say to someone in our lives.  It just happened to coincide with a recent run in with my mother where she had lashed out venomously at me for not telling her I was in flight attendant training.  There was a catch, though. Everything we said had to be passed through three filters.
  • Is it kind
  • Is it true
  • Is it necessary. 
Believe me, this is much more difficult than you would think.  When it came down to it, I wrote a three page letter to my mother explaining why I wouldn't have anything to do with her, and that I needed to focus on what I was doing.  I asked her to respect my time and to not reply or attempt to distract me from my studies, and that if she could hold out for two weeks we could have an adult conversation together, in person, rather than through emails.  Of course she responded within 10 minutes with one of the most painful memories she could conjure, telling me that she was convinced that it would be a 'good' memory for me.  That was the last time I spoke to her, though she continues to try.  I miss my parents, but I can't let them into my life. They will always be my bullies.  They look friendly and sweet, but looks, as  we have heard all our lives, can be deceiving.




Mother and Father, 2009


It's perfectly OK to not allow abusive people any room in your life, no matter who they are.  Some people don't deserve to be in your personal space.  It might be easier to do that with kids at school, or a coworker who decides they don't like you for whatever reason.  You're allowed to set boundaries.  Some people will simply never change.  The abusive will likely always be abusive. They see nothing wrong with their own actions, because clearly you deserve it or they've done everything for "your own good" as I so often heard. Cruelty shouldn't be a part of your personal space, no matter where it's coming from. In my case, it was easy to cut out the people at school who would mistreat me, but I was well into my 30's before I finally had the courage and ability to tell my own mother how much she constantly hurt me and to formally ask her to stop.  When that didn't work, I finally felt justified in cutting her out of my life.


I grew my hair out finally. I'm proud of having red hair, and I'll go right on being proud of it no matter what. Nobody will ever convince me to grow it or cut it, dye it or bleach it, shave it or recreate it.  It's about time I learned how to be me.  I'm certainly flawed, and my self-esteem may falter from time to time.  But finally I've chased the bullies away - including that inner voice.  Mostly.  We should all be so lucky.

Now, go say what you need to say.
 And, by all means, learn to let go.

Amanda Blackwood. Image by Kev MK, copyright Redheads Unite!

Thanks for reading.

1 comment:

  1. When the meaness of your parents increased you took all the negative energy and turned it into some inner good. People can and will learn from this blog and that's a start to stop bullying or at least in my opinion it is.
    Allen

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