Illusion of A Perfect Family
You know the perfect family images that we all grow up believing in, and then we come to the realization that our family is not like that? And we may be loyal and love our parents that we'd never admit that, that they were and are not that picture perfect smiling laughing family unit that love each other unconditionally, that Mommy never screams at Dad or the kids, that we never feel gut wrenching shame and hurt that never gets resolved from how we were treated? But there comes a time where you have to admit to yourself how reality really is or was. You can't hide behind idealization, it is not truth and can take you down a spiraling hole of pretending nothing is wrong in you, that you are not fragmented in parts, missing innocence and trust in yourself in different areas.
Idealization is a devil. It is crazy making, and the opposite of truth, which is accepting the ugliness was there alongside the goodness. It prevents you from owning the full picture.
It rips people apart when you end up ignoring your brokenness, and hurt others in the process. Unwilling to admit your faults, others feel you being unacceptable of their shortcomings. Perhaps because of what happened to you when you were a small kid and your innocence was shattered when your parent minimized or pushed away your abilities, you cannot trust that another person can truly accept all of who you are. Certain emotions get locked away, and cannot be accessed because they were stomped on.
It's crazy that just now, Alan Robarge came out with a video, The Meaning of Family: Questioning Assumptions and Judgments, where he says how it is important to question your beliefs about families, and why one may have aversions to having a family and being together with family doing stereotypical things, such as trips and restaurants. Perhaps it is because they didn't have that wonderful, happy experience of belonging. It can be that it warped their mind because they do not see these things as positive.
To each of us in our own degrees, depending much we were inflicted with as a child and still dependent on parents for our emotional wellness, we will be scarred for the rest of our life. That is, UNLESS we heal it and take the time to open those wounds and hash through them. You cannot heal an ailment unless you know it is there, so unless a person is aware of their hurts they will not heal. They will continue to play the part of pretending everything is fine, and idolize their past. Shame from childhood and believing that they are inherently flawed because of how their parents ingrained it in them will make them run from admitting they have problems inside.
Truly, they tell themselves that they are better than the ones who cry and mourn their losses, but they are worst off than them because they cannot fix their brokenness if they cannot face it.
Only with full acceptance of our full selves, and in turn acceptance of everyone else with their brokenness, can this world be a truly happy, smiling and unconditionally loving place. Everything else is just a picture, just an illusion of grandness.
I should know, I was split from my birth family and placed into a family set on lies of perfection and total happiness, without the allowance of any anger or sadness, unless it had 100% proof of being something to mourn about. Inside our fake show of perfection was repressed rage, spewing hate, and broken child souls just waiting for their chauffeurs to bask them with all their hearts desires. You can't escape the real world though, and harsh reality will soon bite you. The picture is quickly crumbling, for my parents are finally getting a divorce, and I am estranged from my affection-promising sister who cares only about herself and loves only when others exactly mirror her, the way she sees herself- flawless.
I had no choice but to face my brokenness, because i had no illusion to hold. Everyone was against me, everywhere I looked people were denying my reality. The reality of being hurt and unsuccessful and unable to make it in life through steadily going to college, and having no achievements for myself to present my worth with. I had no worth to myself at all, since I was little I put myself down. My mother gladly joined the bandwagon in telling me I was so self critical, yet another package of ugly trait to add to my back. I had nothing to live for except my image of being bad, and that was my keepsake in life. My revenge on a mother who could not and would not look at my pain and love me for it. She wanted me to live on the surface of life, and exploit my status of being a pity case of having to fake being her daughter because of her self hate and anger that she could not have her own children, so be it. I would be that pathetic, living for others without my own self, critical person.
Anger boils in me just writing this. Rage of the life that was snuffed out of me and ignored- my true self. My identity. I am on fire, I am an illusion of an autonomous, perfect, well behaved child of the kindhearted and angelic mother who adopted me because she just wanted to be a mother to some orphans and deny that they were not her kin. Stuff them with treats of life in order to not look at the inside, the pain. But there was always pain, and it ran in her blood. She tried to cultivate it into us, to avoid our hurts and BE HAPPY BE KIND when she was doing just the opposite by not letting the true feelings be felt.
She knows this is true, she lives with it in her bones. Through letting it burst through self righteously when others are acting out of line. Through stuffing herself with sweets and carbs when there it's no one left to latch onto for the latest gossip. Through crying miserably for others when they are in critical situations, but slapping her own family when they bother her with their sadness and hurt feelings. Through ignoring her pain and anger at her empty spouse, and going on cooking and catering for him. Through nagging her children for not succeeding, or telling them they are destined to be a loser. Through criticizing when she doesn't like something, even though it means a lot to her kid. Through pretending to be happy and attend kids graduations, but only proud of her kid for their perfect presentation but when they cry at home she doesn't pay them importance. Through yanking on her children's ears when they annoy her, and slapping them with her slipper cruelly. Smiling at them and baking cakes for their birthday parties, but ignoring their deep sadness and pain. Hiding behind buying expensive clothes and food for her children like they are the most important things in life. Telling me i hurt her as a six year old when I was okay with the answer that my sister would raise me if she died, not understanding that it showed a problem that I wasn't attached to her and felt okay alone. Not noticing that her adopted babies where not bonded with her from when they arrived. Telling her son to his face that he was mentally ill when she couldn't take his anger.
I don't hold the understanding that families are love unconditionally, and beautiful. I hope to build one where that belief is not forced, and is worked on being felt by one's own mind.
Love,
Adoptee in Reality
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