Wednesdays are for taking a moment during the week and counting blessings, or telling funny stories, and anticipating the approaching weekend. I’d love for you to share your Wednesday moment in the comments or attach a link to your blog.
When I was a teenager, I went through some drama. My father and step-father had abused me, my mother was an alcoholic, and my boyfriend was a drug user and abusive. That combination left me feeling alone and powerless.
So, I started acting out. I had no respect for my parents because I felt they hadn’t earned it. Like many victims of abuse, I thought I could stop it. I wanted to be “good enough” so he would love me “the right way”.
I didn’t have much experience then with unconditional love. I assumed people loved one another because there was a magic combination of behaviors that made someone love you.
You could lose someone’s love if you didn’t act just so.
You could cause bad things to happen, but when good things happened, it was inexplicable.
Instead of addressing the reasons I was acting out, my mother clamped down even harder. The harder I fought, the tighter her fist.
Today, many many years later, I’m writing. I’m trying to write a book, and each time I try, I find myself addressing the same theme. A child is stolen and taken to a place where she doesn’t know the rules and has to adapt and make herself valuable to her captors. There’s always a point where she’s locked up, as I was by my mother.
It was only this morning, when I heard a song which triggered memories of when I was ready to die after my mother had me committed, did I realize that I am still working out those issues. I’m hoping by confronting those emotions in my writing, I’ll finally tell the story that sets me free.
Today I am grateful for lessons learned, time passing, my husband who loves me unconditionally and is patient with my fears, and the luck (and hard work) that helped me survive.
(A special thank you to Saga writer Brian K Vaughn and the artist Fiona Staples for perhaps the best two frames of a comic in the history of comics.)
The dialogue starts with you. What tough parts of your past show up in your art?