Let’s go back to my earliest memory, before the adoption, before the ugly, before the broken.
I was still living in a home, I was a little girl, innocent and pure. My smile was as bright as the sun. When my world was so small and safe.
Sometimes I close my eyes really tight and remember that time where silence wasn’t deafening or filled with scary monsters but when it was hearing the kids next door laugh in mischief or hearing grandma sing.
But that’s just a memory now. My mind since then has filled with a different kind of silence. The silence of a child who never grew, the silence of a child whose growth stopped abruptly. The silence that was forced on me. The “You are going to keep quiet or else” slience. The silence of death.
Now dear husband… Wait, future husband of mine, I’ve probably told you this story before by now and because it makes me uncomfortable, I’m sure I’ve only told you bits and pieces of it. I can assure you that no one who has been molested or raped wants to keep talking about it.
But since this is a letter and we aren’t in each other’s presence, I’ll tell you about the little girl who lost her smile, but gained so much more in the end.
She is just a child who never grew up and she is the reason we are here today. She, I mean I am needy, more than I will ever let you know. See, you can never really recover from abuse, a child’s mind is so fragile and to get it scrambled like mine was, really messes you up.
So, through the course of our relationship I’ve thought many times that you are bored of me, That you are probably annoyed with having me around. That I’m probably wasting your time. I’ve probably pushed you away too many tmes to count, but only because I was taught at such a young age that I don’t deserve good things and it pains me to admit that I’ll always look at you and wait for you to walk out of my life.
Imagine living your entire life thinking you aren’t worthy of anything good. Imagine living your life waiting for the other shoe to drop because it always does. Imagine purposefully looking for people and things that destroy you day by day. Just for a second, try to imagine someone purposefully walking into a fire wanting to burn, wanting to feel that pain, wanting to feel their skin melt off their bones because they feel they deserve it. Because they were told over and over again that the only thing they are good for is being on their knees or back or whatever suited the stolen moment. That even then, they just aren’t good enough.
The little girl in me, she needs constant assurance, constant reminders. She needs random acts of affection. I wanted us to start here with her because she is me. She is who you are with, the little baby that never got to grow up. She is my inner child, a broken mess. She is a part of me and will always be annoyingly playful and at times overbearing.
So please love and care for her. She is where I get my humor from, my playfullness, my need to always sooth everyone and everything, that’s all her. She is wonderful because when they tried to break her, she protected those parts of her with all her might. Even when the world tried to destroy every bit of light she had, she still believed. That belief, that hope is why we are still here, without it we wouldn’t be here writing. She, well I would be dead.
Most importantly, you are now reading this because she let you in and you should be proud of yourself because she is very wary and extremely cautious. She is also the brave little girl who learned not to cry no matter what got thrown her way. She is the girl who maintained a straight face through it all.
In conclusion, I will always be broken, I will always be that way. My past will always be the darkest part of me and I’ve accepted that. I’m okay with it now, denying it won’t make it go away. Acting like it never happened would make me go crazy. Yes, it has given me irrational fears, mightmares, and even damaged some relatonships beyond repair. But I’ve counquered my demons, over the years I’ve learned to slay my own dragons.
So future husband of mine, I need you not to fight any battles but to stand by my side and love me and most importantly, acknowledge her struggle, her strength, and her will to survive. Pleae accept that you cannot “fix me”, that you can’t “make it go away” because in all honesty, I don’t want her to go away. It would be killing my strength, my source of hope, love and compassion. So as needy as she can be sometimes, let her be. She is just a child, a child who never grew, a child who never laughed, a child who never cried. Cherish her, please.
Loving her is loving me, remember that.