Sometimes, it’s really hard to be in the presence of people who love you in the only way that they know, but don’t actually know how to love you in a way that is healthy or helpful for you.
It's not malicious--this not knowing how-- it's just how they have navigated life and haven't had a big enough internal or external changes that would inspire them to review past approaches inorder to explore new options.
At some point through the course of a day, I find her swimming in an ocean of pain, buffeted by waves of anger, sadness, hurt and regret. She says life didn’t work out the way she had hoped. And now, especially now, but for the longest time, that my life is far from what she had hoped for me.
To put it mildly, she’s disappointed. She’s disappointed and gives voice to it in a way that can be spirit crushing.
And still, I love her. She's strong. Driven to do her best or whatever she feels is best in the given circumstances. I see her inner child and I feel so very much for her. She's navigating so much hurt and is handling it in the only way that she knows how. The only way she's practiced all these years. By holding on to it and believing in an unbendable type of justice.
At this point in my life, I’m better able to
weather her storms and understand some of their origins. But sometimes, even
with my trusty umbrella—the one that’s supposed to be weatherproof –
I get soaked, and my hand hurts from
gripping the handle so hard against the pummeling.
How do I move forward? I want to move forward. I ask for help. I ask for a sign, a crystal-clear next step forward sign. Direction. Miracles.
Like it says on one of the cards, “Show me my next best step to take" and whenever necessary, "change me into one who can take it.”