Labyrinth

I was born into a toxic marriage. A mother who abandoned the narcissist who raised me and me. They probably had no business being married, let alone having children. One parent left and didn’t care enough to take me away from the toxicity she ran from, and a man who, in his arrogant and self-aggrandizing way, would leverage my sibling and me as sympathy points to attain women.

My father was an extremely controlling man, and raised me in an environment of fear and complete control. He said when we went out and came in, who we were allowed to be friends with, if we could wear makeup, et cetera. You get the picture.

At first I believed it was out of a sense of love and protection, but as an adult and after much contemplation and introspection, I realized it was his way of exerting power and maintaining control over my life, and his own, in many ways.

Rigidity

Any deviation from his rules or commands led to cruel beatings with belts, leashes, and other creative items. Breaking something or spilling something also garnered consequences.

His control had tentacles woven through my life even into adulthood, where I still wanted his approval and love. But neither was truly attainable from a narcissist. His love, first and foremost, was for himself. His control was unyielding and had no boundaries.

I used to wonder whether this affected my adult life, and though I want to deny it, I know in truth that everything we experience in life molds little parts of us into the whole. I want to reject that the way he raised his family made me who I am and shaped my decisions, but I can’t.

The question for me now is whether the person I am today and my proclivities are negatively keeping me in the same state I was in. Are my desires and tastes a rebellion against my father’s prison, a damaged psychological and emotional mind, or a final release from his control, a freedom?

Analyzing the Consequences

I look back at my life and see the times I chose to escape his control, only to enter another form of control. Psychologically, I understand that it’s human nature to gravitate to what is familiar. I certainly did that most of my life.

My first marriage, a disaster, was a twofold decision. One, I got away from my father’s control, and two, it was the outward manifestation of a desire for sexual expression and exploration. The need to experience what I believed was my sexual revolution was ill-fated. I should say the first person I chose to live that out with was the worst choice I made.

I married the exact type of man my father hated. He was uneducated, lazy, and a terrible choice for someone to open me up to my sexuality. While I wanted to be set free, on many levels, including intimacy, I was caged and made to feel cheap and dirty.

Porn was his go-to mentor when it came to intimacy. It was always what he liked, what he wanted, what he needed, and how. I didn’t grow in this marriage; I withdrew and closed off. The exact opposite of what this rebellion from my father’s grip should have done. But again I found a man who only loved himself.

There was no room for me in that equation: one plus one makes one. I was still not free to openly be me.

A Journey Begins

I know now that the divorce of this man in my life was a necessary event. It started my education and understanding of who I was, of my tastes, and desires. The problem is that the journey was long and kept revealing new nuances.

I married again. My second husband was the exact opposite of my first. Was that intentional or coincidence? I don’t know, and I suppose psychologically, it was intentional. I wanted different. I wanted more and better. So, I found the man I am still married to, twenty-five years later.

He is a sweet and gentle man. Kind to a fault and conscientious, he is vastly more intelligent than my first and has character and integrity. All of these qualities were not present in my first, not even close. Now, after years of marriage and children, I am beginning to feel free. But it was a process; I won’t deny it. Processes take time, lots of it, and growing pains as well.

The Journey Continues

Many years into my second marriage, I still had not worked through the damage my upbringing and life had caused. Trust was the main consequence of abandonment and narcissism. Trust is the basis for feeling and being free, because it brings safety and openness. At least for me, that was the case.

Insecurity, a close cousin to trust, was also what I lacked, from years of oppressive control, abuse, and degrading treatment. I had to overcome those hindrances in order to spread my wings, so to speak. It was not as easy, and is still not as easy, as I’d hoped for. It’s a maze of emotions from experiences, neatly buried in a labyrinth of hurts and injuries, deep in my mind and heart.

I was locked down pretty tight. I had never let anyone into my head or heart. I didn’t trust anyone with the very intimate things that could destroy all my self-worth, should they be used against me to make me feel awkward, wrong, or unaccepted.

Pornography, stuffed down my throat during my first marriage, had done a number on my head. Make no mistake, that even if it’s erotic and enticing, it can make a woman feel less appreciated and loved, and more like a tool for pleasure.

It can make sex more exotic, or make it tawdry and cheap, making a woman feel like she isn’t enough or doesn’t perform enough to be a good sexual partner. Porn, not causing psychological and mental issues, is the lie that keeps the myth perpetuating: that porn is just fine and safe, or that it is a tool for arousal only. And yes, not all feel the same way; I understand that.

Men need visuals, diverse ones apparently, to stimulate their minds, while women need emotional and mental stimulation more than anything else. Love is important in a relationship, too.

This being said, my closed-off mind, heart, and emotions were protecting me from more trauma and damage to my self-esteem.

Patience

My current husband, with love and a great deal of patience, began to break down these walls, one brick at a time. He didn’t bust through walls and impose himself with force. One conversation at a time, one revelation at a time, through most of our marriage, was what was needed.

One experience at a time was what it took for me to know, with certainty, that I could trust this man. It was, and still is, unfair, in my opinion, that he is the one who had to deal with the realities of who, what, and how I was and am now.

The Labyrinth

With that being said, throughout this marriage, I have traversed the network of corridors and picked each lock on the closed doors in my mind and being. Each locked door, carefully opened. Each room explored diligently and intentionally, to expose it and remodel it into a safe place.

I’ve confronted abandonment by a parent and learned it did not define me. My mother had her reasons, and they were valid. While I do not approve of her abandonment, I have made peace with it and forgave her. That freed me from the clutches of bitterness caged in the corner of that room.

So many rooms and so many ghosts to confront: cruelty, abuse, and control from a father in one room; degradation, emotional abuse, and exploitation by a spouse in another. Betrayal had its own room behind a triple-locked door, and it took many attempts to empty it.

Deeper still, within cluttered catacombs, self-worth, self-esteem, and confidence were trapped. Self-worth and self-esteem have adjoining rooms. I’ll be honest: these two rooms in my catacombs keep re-locking and need lock-picking. I am not sure women, in general, ever completely break down the door. Maybe men have those rooms as well and don’t talk about them.

Confidence lies behind an elusive door, with no lock, making it reachable, but it likes to hide. It is often held ransom by self-esteem or self-worth, which historically take it captive at any opportunity. Even when I believed I had freed it from its prison, I would have to break it free every time it became enclosed in other rooms.

All of these tangled paths and accommodations in my maze of feelings and fears took years to master. Some things will never be mastered, but can be mollified, and that’s okay. I don’t have to have all my answers, and I don’t need perfection in myself.

My husband, with his love and patience, helped me be okay with me. He earned my unwavering trust. He showed me and told me I was valued and appreciated. He built me up, where others tore me down. No words can express how precious that is, so I won’t cheapen it by trying to label and explain it. And yet, the tangled web of my mind and heart is still luring me backward.

Learning to Speak

I have only recently, after more than two decades, fully opened up to my spouse about my intimate desires or tastes. To be fair, I didn’t even know them myself. I have always been curious about some not-so-mainstream interests. I never voiced them. To anyone. So, being able to openly discuss it with my husband was a major revelation.

I have become able to trust someone to the degree that I don’t fear judgment or reprisal for outing my tastes and inner desires. It was surprising that I ever divulged this to anyone at all. For that trust, to have been given to my dearest partner, showed me that trust and confidence could be attained between two people. And that has given me freedom.

Free at Last

It is freeing to be myself. I can explore my deep thoughts without recriminations. I am unloosed and no longer chained down by convention or consequences of what others do or did.

This has made my relationship with my husband even more precious. He guards my deepest secrets and my deepest feelings. And he has proven worthy. He helped free me from the jailers of my life. I am fully free and fully me. No apologies. No shame. No judgment. I am at peace with myself.

It is a completely new experience for me not to hide who I am. I see why so many hide themselves because of the fear of judgment and rejection. I understand feeling different and not having someone to share your essence with. I also know it is not unattainable or impossible.

Careful introspection and honesty can change a life. The right support can aid and enhance cathartic growth. Taking control of yourself and releasing anger, hurt, damage, and trauma is the way to unpack that baggage.

The most important thing and most cathartic thing a person can do is forgive. The weight it lifted off my shoulders was immense. I didn’t have to carry bitterness anymore, and it was considerably heavy. That doesn’t make what happened okay. It wasn’t. But it made it easier to let go of the scars others left.

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