Monday, July 14, 2014

4

My first big, traumatic abuse happened when I was 4.  

I'm spending this week with my nephew who just turned 4.

The reality of that sunk in in a big way last night.  I've been around other 4 year olds and it's hit me how small, sweet, and innocent they are.  But this is a first with one who is so so close to me.  I was an older 4 when the big trauma happened to me, but still...Even if it was a full year it wouldn't be enough to make a difference.

This little boy is the sweetest thing ever.  I can't imagine the shock and upset he would feel if someone hit him.  He lives in a safe, peaceful world where things like that don't happen.  My world was never entirely safe and peaceful...there was always someone yelling or fighting or something.  But this particular event I went through would likely even be scary for an adult.

I look at this little boy and I can't imagine how anyone could hurt a child so small...especially in such a huge, violent way.  I don't understand how my parents could've looked at me at that age and size and done what they did.  I would do anything for my nephew, and it would crush me to see harm come to him.

I've heard that this is something that happens when childhood abuse survivors have kids.  Every time your kid hits a new milestone there's processing and grieving that has to take place.  I guess it's going to be that way with my nephew too.  I just didn't expect it to have this much of an impact on me...since like I said i'm around kids all the time.  I guess it's the connection that's really important.  

I'm loving being with my nephew, but when I have too much time to think...I'm struggling.  I'm so sad for me...for the other kids of the world who have been through the same...and for my parents, for the pain they must've been in to be able to do what they did.  

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I'm beyond grateful that my nephew has the life that he does...  That he would be shocked and horrified if anyone did anything remotely violent to him because in his world adults take care of children.  I was so afraid when he was born because I felt so powerless to protect him.  But it's amazing to see him growing up and getting to truly live without all the fear.

3 comments:

  1. Thinking of you. My first foster daughter was 3, and I went through this same thing - only instead of knowing she was safe and loved, I knew she wasn't before she came to me. HUGS.

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    1. Kate I've had that experience too, like with my foster siblings. It might sound weird, but I think this one is getting to me even more because nothing has happened to him. It's like I'm realizing for the first time how sweet and innocent little kids are supposed to be. It's making me realize just how not normal things were for me at that age.

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    2. Sorry hope that didn't sound like diminishing your experience with your foster daughter...

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