Sunday, July 10, 2011

less fear

So much of me has been kept inside for so long. I share, but only in very small, safe ways. This week I'm realizing how lonely and selfish it is to keep my words and song and art so far inside of me that even if it does escape it's murky, unrefined and only at a tenth of it's potential. Shame and fear have shrouded my being from the time I could remember experiencing.

My dad would throw away the gifts I gave him, always small things like flowers or drawings but they would always make it in the trash before he ever uttered a word of appreciation or thanks. I can remember balling my eyes dry on the floor, asking my mom why would he do that! What I gave him was clearly beautiful and why did he hate me and what I made?! I was so young than, I was four and he was thirty.

For awhile there I had a step dad, he stuck around not so long but long enough for me to grow in the ways he saw me. He disliked me and my body. Constantly I was urged to work out and stop eating so much peanut butter and god, elise why are you such a pig all the time?! I was seen as a threat to his happiness because of my existence. If i kept being overweight and unhappy around him my mom would need to spend more time with me, give me more love that he thought was all his. So he solved the problem. He took care of me and all my problems by convincing my mom militant berating and arbitrary rules would whip me into happiness, a smaller waste and ultimately I would leave him and my mom alone. I was always in trouble those days. I could do nothing right and wasn't given a single chance to try, if I tried that was too much effort on somebodies part to support me so I got in trouble for trying to do good things. Eventually I gave the fuck up and forgot myself, forgot myself in food and self hatred and eventually gave up all that was my own to any man that would have me. My voice, my song, my words and my love were silenced by another man.

It's taken me my whole life to be able to reflect on these things in a way that is not self destructive. It's taken me my whole life to have the courage to even think about allowing my voice to be heard by anybody but my angry reflection. This is me being a little less afraid today.

1 comment:

  1. Hi Elise this is Christine D. from Corkscrew/Palmetto remember me :)? I just stumbled on this blog and reading this post brought so many emotions about my father as well. Even though people tell me how much they admire my strength and how I endured through it all, sometimes I just feel as broken as before. I loved this post and even though we're miles apart and changed a lot, I'll always care for you :D

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