Finding It All Within

My whole life has been lived from a position of defense.

Defending my actions, my decisions, my worth to my abusers. Defending my loved ones from the cruelty of those same abusers. Defending my accusations to those who didn't believe me.

So, I built myself as a stronghold. I became a brick wall to shield myself from the incessant criticism, disappointment, and rage.

This was something I didn't realize until after.

Looking back over the years of abuse, as I navigate the untested waters of self love and forgiveness, I see it now.

I defended myself valiantly from the insatiable expectations from abusive adults in my life.

It's molded me to the person I am today.

I've had to make peace with my messy past and its ramifications.

Yet, this necessity has led to more consequences than I expected.

It hardened me.

This self-defense didn't arise out of a well of self-love.

It came from a constant need to fight, to justify, to validate my actions and decisions that were under constant brutal critique.

Of course, how could I learn to love myself when I wasn't taught? When I wasn't given love freely? When I wasn't told I was worth it?

Over the years, I was hardened against self-love. Despite my staunch defensiveness, I didn't think highly of myself.

My defense bordered more along "you can't do that to me" rather than "I deserve better than this."

That first thought carried me through some of the worst abuse I have ever suffered.

It taught me to be strong. It showed me how to protect myself when I didn't have someone to protect me.

Yet, this hardened exterior hid an aching heart within.

I was broken over the abuse I suffered at the hands of the ones I trusted most, the ones who should've protected me, not inflicted the wounds.

My shell protected me, but the stronger arrows sunk through my armor. They found the weak spots left unprotected. They became how I defined myself, secretly.

I feared they hurt so much because they were true.

So, while I fought off others' abuse, I was paralyzed against the bully within.

Every time a hurtful comment landed, I subconsciously accepted it as truth. And spent my energy fruitlessly fighting it.

I tried to prove it wasn't true, all the while fearing it was.

Through all of my sparring, my self-defense, my protection, I never learned to love the girl underneath.

I never saw her as valuable, as worthy. I never saw her as achieving anything, just jumping another hurdle. I was never satisfied, never proud.

I never even considered myself "a fighter" against my obstacles. I felt shamefully weak of the woman inside.

I was never kind and gentle, icing her bruises and brushing the hair out of her tear-stained eyes.

I never felt like I was truly worth anything.

Maybe because I felt like someone worth love shouldn't have to fight so hard against hate.

After all, how can a child learn they are worthy of love when everyone around them proves the opposite?

And now that I'm out of that situation, I find it hard to break free from the extreme discipline and thick shell I've built. I struggle to feel safe.

I struggle to trust and love myself. I struggle to forgive myself for the forced hardness. To forgive myself for feeling broken as a result of trauma.

I struggle to forgive myself for being unable to emerge unscathed from a battle I never should've had to fight to begin with.

Now that those threats aren't present, I find myself being the overbearing, extremely disciplined, never satisfied voice.

It's hard, when you are so inundated with feelings of worthlessness that you begin to believe it. It's harder still to challenge them.

For a girl whose grown up wielding weapons of battle, it's hard to lay them down.

It's scary to unshackle my armor. It's hard to forgive myself for my weaknesses and gently love myself instead.

I find myself wanting to shake my own shoulders, screaming "why can't you just love yourself?!? Forgive yourself?!? Why can vou not be free live evervone else?!?"

But I've had a lifetime of this treatment. I have to learn to see myself through different eyes.

I have to forgive myself for the things she did to survive. For being broken after fighting so long. I have to forgive myself for being broken so long.

This doesn't come easy. It's a daily-if not hourly-struggle.

But I'm learning that my thoughts and feelings aren't the truth, just the remnants of twisted lessons from those who couldn't love me.

So, I re-examine every thought about myself, asking whether it's true, or whether it's just a hurtful lie that's been reiterated repeatedly.

It's hard. Much harder than following the cycle of self-loathing and blame. Harder than letting myself get sucked under the whirlpool of bitterness.

My past is a wrinkled mess. I am making peace with my inability to straighten it and clean it up.

It's not a quick fix. But it is a step in the right direction, a step to healing and freedom.

I don't have the magic recipe. In all honesty, it's a daily struggle for me to believe the truth: I'm safe, loved, worthy of it. It takes constant forgiveness, even when I don't believe it.

But, if you're reading this article (and you've made it this far) it's likely you're aching, desperate for some relief. I understand your pain.

My only consolation is that you must realize and frequently remind yourself of the truth. The truth of who you are: worthy.

Worth love, worth fighting for, worthy of a good life and good treatment.

Sometimes the hardest people to convince is ourselves.

Say it until you believe it. Treat yourself like it's already true.

And I hope you find the peace one day to live it freely.