Words Don't Hurt Me: They Make Me

A traumatic childhood experience causes a failed relationship with my parents and most of my siblings. When those who were supposed to nurture you, provide for you, love you, guide you, take care of you, make you feel comfortable instead choose otherwise and disappoint you, the end results can lead to destruction, shame, low self-esteem and/or failure.

"The Lord shall fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace" (Exodus 14:14).

The power of choice and having dreams had kept me going, kept me alive. While it is common to find people fixated on their history, the past, or on what other people had done to them, or said about them, none of these will really help you move forward. The good news for me is that my life has taught me a lot. Although there were plenty of things I could not control--like my parents' anger, the slapping, the beatings, the whooping, the pulling, the name-calling, the putting me down in front of others--I always find strength to remain in a standing position. I had always tried to choose what next best thing for me to do. I had also tried to heal those internal wounds by reading self-help books. By doing so, I had learned better ways to cope and deal with issues, learn to love, appreciate, respect, forgive, and deal with my siblings in a less emotional way. I also know that life will take the meaning that you give to it.

I sometimes feel cheated by my parents. I especially think that way because one of the things that children do is to teach their parents, challenge them, and expand their lives. An opportunity or a time in my life I had never lived or even experienced. It all seems like a story of unfinished sentences, of suppressed embraces, of almost belonging, of stammered affection.