My life was smashed into unrecognizable pieces, while having Flying Pizza for supper one evening. My mom informed my sister and I that our father had been abusing her. Hitting her, beating her, slapping her, kicking her, raping her, and inflicting years of emotional and psychological abuse. My world was rocked. I don't know if the word rocked can fully explain what occurred. It was more like a grenade was thrown into my life. I survived, but was left with bruises and scars that will never heal.
I dealt with a lot of emotions, two of the worst were anger and fear. Anger at my father. Anger at the man who was supposed to love, cherish and protect his wife. Anger at the man who I cherished as my daddy. Angry that I would never be able to think again of him without hate and fear welling up inside of me. Angry that he took my childhood away from me. Angry that I trusted him and he broke my trust. Fear that if he could do this to my mom, then he would have no problem hurting his children either. Fear that his hatred would take hold in me and ruin my life.
It has been almost 15 years since that night of pizza, and I am still dealing the anger and the fear. They have multiplied and morphed into walls of self preservation and protection.
I would love to talk to the girl I was, and tell her that her life is going to change in ways that she cannot fathom. She needs to hold on to the ideals that she believes in. I want her to know that her dreams can come true, if she puts her whole heart and soul into them. Lastly, I would tell her to hold on tight to the people she loves, and open her heart to any love she can find.
