I grew up in the Church of England. Christened and confirmed. I wore a white dress and a veil.
I was married in the Presbyterian Church. It took me 14 minutes to get married and 14 years to get out of.
My upbringing was full of abuse and pain. I was told by the church that what was happening to me was my fault. I was to young to understand adults had choices. And that some of those choices they made reflected directly on my life.
Sitting in a church I would look around at all the families with children, looking for the tell tale bruises like the ones I had. I never saw any.
By the time I was a teenager I had picked my own path in life. I fell off it more times than I can count, but I always got back up, brushed myself off, (sometimes literally), and kept walking.
I was told I needed to forgive and forget, but that is not possible, because to forgive is to take away the way they justified what they did. I understand why they did what they did, but forgiveness is not on my agenda.
Forgiveness does not take the memories or pain away. Healing comes with time.
I met a lot of people, and some of the most nonjudgmental people were the ones who I slept in doorways with. There was no asking what you were doing there, it was just understood that we were all in the same boat.
Life is full of lessons and the one I learnt early was not to rely on anyone or anything.
If it makes it easier for you to have someone to blame for what happens to you then so be it. For me, I have my own ways of coping.Recommend0 recommendations