Dear Mom and Dad,
I am composing this letter through my website, for the world to see, if of course the world cares to look.
Just so you know, my site has gotten tens of thousands of views, and will be read by many more viewers. The internet is forever, and so will be the words that find themselves flowing out from my fingertips this morning.
May your hearts and especially your minds be open to what your little girl feels so compelled to share.
For my readers who may be confused by this post, you should probably know that my parents did not know I was writing a book about my childhood. They did not know that I began writing my book thirteen years ago. They did not know that the main reason I never had it published before this year, (2012) was because I knew they would be hurt by what my child's eyes had to share.
We are a codependent family. We do not confront uncomfortable situations, nor do we speak up for ourselves. We deny, stuff, and suppress our emotions because we are afraid of upsetting others in our lives.
My story went stuffed and denied for too long, and until my sister's husband committed suicide in September of 2011, I was unsure for how long my story would stay squelched within me. But when my brother in law took his own life, reality unzipped my heart as if with a razor.
Another emotional impetus for me to get my book published was the fact that in August of 2010 my heart stopped beating on an operating room table. When a routine surgery I was undergoing went terribly wrong--I quite literally bled to death. Six transfusions, a respirator, a medically induced coma, as well as a dedicated surgical and anesthetic team pulled me through. That, along with what my doctor's called--the pure will to survive, kept my physical being a part of this physical world.
Recently it has come to my attention that my parents have discovered my book on line, and they have been reading bits and pieces of the first three chapters that are available free on Amazon. I have also learned that my parents are hurt by the fact that I chose to publicly speak about my childhood experiences. This of course--is no surprise.
Perhaps the saddest note of all is the fact that neither my parents nor I have confronted one another about my book. Although we all know it exists, typically of a codependent dynamic--we all choose to ignore the pink elephant in the room and settle for superficial cordial exchanges.
Because I know my parents are hurting, and especially my mom, this letter is for you;
To My Parents, but especially Mom,
Because I chose to write a public story about our family, I feel it is only right and fair to offer you--my parents a public acknowledgement. Although the opening lines in my book as well as my books dedication explains clearly enough why I wrote my book the way I wrote it, I feel that perhaps now, because the fact that the book has been published is out there somewhere between all of us, that a more direct acknowledgement is needed. And because I also believe no one in our family will ever desire to actually read my book, none of you will be able to refer back to my books dedication page as a reference and basis to help you more fully understand why I have done what I have done. So mom, dad here it goes...
Mom, when I was a little girl I adored you more than you could ever know. I used to look into your blue eyes and pray for a hug, a kiss on my nose or a kind word. I tried to be good--good enough to calm you down or to make you smile--but through my child's eyes--all I could feel was not enough. As if you lived in one world, and I lived in another, the child I was once was--felt lost, wrong, infected, and ill. There was no bond between you and I. There were no silly hide and seek games, or butterfly kisses goodnight. In my world, I felt like a specimen in a dish, and they were your eyes peering down at me through a microscopic lens, as if waiting for me to move a little too far to the left or to the right.
When I was small, I wanted nothing more than to please you and make you smile. I experienced you as one who was rushed, nervous, angry, short tempered, and like a tornado and a volcano too. You called me names, and labeled me early on as selfish, a liar, and a psycho too. You said I would never have any friends--I'd be a hermit the rest of my life, you said. Once you told me you didn't have to like me--you only had to love me. That moment has forever been carved into my soul.
Yes, when I was little I did lie to you. I lied because I was afraid to tell the truth. I lied because I feared your reactions, your persecution, your criticisms, and would have done anything to try and prevent a borage of verbal assaults, none of which I as a child had any ability or right to defend against.
Yes, I stayed in my room--a lot. And that's because I wanted to stay out of your way, and because I was getting bullied at school. Many days I spent in my room, simply because I didn't want to bump into any of the boys who used to torture me at school. I did my best to stay out of your way, and when I was old enough, and met friends in high school--I did. I was never home--and inside me I though that is what you preferred--me out of your way.
As I got older, I heard you murmur that you thought that all I cared about was my friends. Way into adulthood, I heard you say things of that nature many times. But the truth is mom, I could never make you happy, or gain your validation. Like a carrot hung long before a horse's nose, your acceptance was something that was always out of my reach.
When I got divorced, I needed you more than you could ever know. I was afraid--no terrified, of being alone, and taking care of my three small children on my own. And then you and daddy were gone. Your move out of state, cut me to my core. I so wished I felt like you were trying to understand why I did what I did.
I didn't want to get a divorce. I had to get a divorce. My codependent marriage was killing me--literally.
I just wished you acknowledged that then.
It's thirteen glorious years later, and I am happy to announce that my life has turned around. I am engaged to a wonderful, kind, stable, healthy, empathetic, responsible and handsome man--who 'sees' me, who 'hears' me and who validates me for the being I am. But better than that, I have learned to 'see, hear, and validate' my own self. And that happened long before my fiancee and I met.
As I mentioned above, I held onto my book for twelve years before I published it, because I worried how you all would receive it. But after my surgery, and after J's suicide, I knew with all of me, it was time to let out all that I had for so long stuffed inside.
I know you are hurt, and unfortunately because our family does not know how to tell our emotional truths, we may never be able to discuss these issues fully.
I don't know how to say, "Mom and dad, you hurt me," and neither of you know how to say, "We never intended to hurt you, and if we did, from the bottom of our hearts, we're sorry. We did the best we could", so we all just do what we have always done. We skate around issues, use M as a go between us all, and stuff our emotions for one another.
You don't know how troubled I was as a teenager, because I was afraid to tell you. You don't know what I went through when I was married, because I was afraid of your criticisms, judgements and with disappointing you. Instead I pretended to be happy when I wasn't just like I did when I was little and when daddy would come home from work. I stuffed my emotions because I learned early that our family considered 'feelings' inconvenient truths.
When my asthma, migraines, and panic attacks got so bad that my doctors worried I might die, my spirit was forced to look you, daddy, and my ex husband and his family in the eye, and let go.
I had to let go of needing to make you all happy. I had to let go of trying to pretend. I had to let go of taking care of everyone else at the expense of myself. And if you think that was easy--you are so, so, so wrong.
When I went into therapy and my therapist told me I was codependent, I was confused. But the more I opened myself up to the idea, and the more I learned about codependency the more I understood what was wrong in our family.
And more importantly--what was wrong with me.
You should know that the greatest thing I learned about codependency and Adult Children of Alcoholics like yourself is--that it's not 'us, or me or you' that is wrong--it's the disease of alcoholism that has affected and infiltrated our ways of perceiving ourselves, our worlds and others.
Alcoholism hurt you mom and daddy too. You are both ACo A, and in spite of your denial about how you two have been affected by it--you have, and so has our family.
I know with all of my heart you two did the best you could--and if you read my book--you would learn how I was able to transcend my own childhood wounds so I could get to a point where I could truly see you and daddy as children, and understand how much of an amazing job you did with us compared to what your parents gave you.
Mom--I know you didn't drink because you wanted to show us differently. And with all of my being--I publicly thank you for being a better mother than your own.
I appreciate your sacrifices. I know you cleaned our house so masterfully because you lived in filth. And I know that was your way of loving and taking care of us.
I am so thankful for all the dentist appointments you took us on. Our mouths were a great priority of yours, and you made sure daddy spent money to get us the surgery we needed--and I know that sacrifice was great.
I know you tried in your own way to please me--and I am sorry the adolescent child I was--got cold and shut down. But please know--that if I hadn't grown that armor--I probably would not be here today.
Mom, I have watched you manage a home, a business, a husband, and three children all while cooking great meals, and sheet rocking walls too. I have watched you go out in your mid forties and secure a full time government job, when daddy went out of business. I watched you research bible studies and turn pastor's on their heads with your inquisitiveness. I have watched you care for the sick, and elderly, and have seen you cry while praising God. I have seen you smile, no matter what life has thrown at you, and have marveled at your resilience.
And today I want you to know, that in spite of it all, I am proud that you are my mother.
My book isn't about you and its not about me. It's about helping other people who have been affected by alcoholism--understand.
It's about helping other little kids like me, like I was--heal.
It's about helping ACoA moms calm down--turn within--and learn how to be gentle with themselves and their children.
It's about women who are in enabling marriages--who fear their husband's wrath learn how to honor themselves.
It's about helping confused people, who hate themselves and don't know why understand that at their core--in spite of what has ever been done or said to them--they are worthy.
It's about teaching families how to--forgive--understand--unconditionally.
It's about helping others learn how to stop lying to themselves--and how to begin telling their own truth.
It's about teaching the world--one word at a time--how to find inner peace--and ultimately learn to love 'self'.
Mom, you have taught me more than you realize. You did your job. You were a far greater mother than your own--you have nothing to be ashamed about. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You--like me--like all beings--made mistakes--and that is forgivable.
But it was my job to learn from your mistakes--and to do better.
And my books, and my website, and my Skype sessions, and all the other work I do--is part of the way I have chosen to do better.
I love you...
Lisa
I am composing this letter through my website, for the world to see, if of course the world cares to look.
Just so you know, my site has gotten tens of thousands of views, and will be read by many more viewers. The internet is forever, and so will be the words that find themselves flowing out from my fingertips this morning.
May your hearts and especially your minds be open to what your little girl feels so compelled to share.
For my readers who may be confused by this post, you should probably know that my parents did not know I was writing a book about my childhood. They did not know that I began writing my book thirteen years ago. They did not know that the main reason I never had it published before this year, (2012) was because I knew they would be hurt by what my child's eyes had to share.
We are a codependent family. We do not confront uncomfortable situations, nor do we speak up for ourselves. We deny, stuff, and suppress our emotions because we are afraid of upsetting others in our lives.
My story went stuffed and denied for too long, and until my sister's husband committed suicide in September of 2011, I was unsure for how long my story would stay squelched within me. But when my brother in law took his own life, reality unzipped my heart as if with a razor.
Another emotional impetus for me to get my book published was the fact that in August of 2010 my heart stopped beating on an operating room table. When a routine surgery I was undergoing went terribly wrong--I quite literally bled to death. Six transfusions, a respirator, a medically induced coma, as well as a dedicated surgical and anesthetic team pulled me through. That, along with what my doctor's called--the pure will to survive, kept my physical being a part of this physical world.
Recently it has come to my attention that my parents have discovered my book on line, and they have been reading bits and pieces of the first three chapters that are available free on Amazon. I have also learned that my parents are hurt by the fact that I chose to publicly speak about my childhood experiences. This of course--is no surprise.
Perhaps the saddest note of all is the fact that neither my parents nor I have confronted one another about my book. Although we all know it exists, typically of a codependent dynamic--we all choose to ignore the pink elephant in the room and settle for superficial cordial exchanges.
Because I know my parents are hurting, and especially my mom, this letter is for you;
To My Parents, but especially Mom,
Because I chose to write a public story about our family, I feel it is only right and fair to offer you--my parents a public acknowledgement. Although the opening lines in my book as well as my books dedication explains clearly enough why I wrote my book the way I wrote it, I feel that perhaps now, because the fact that the book has been published is out there somewhere between all of us, that a more direct acknowledgement is needed. And because I also believe no one in our family will ever desire to actually read my book, none of you will be able to refer back to my books dedication page as a reference and basis to help you more fully understand why I have done what I have done. So mom, dad here it goes...
Mom, when I was a little girl I adored you more than you could ever know. I used to look into your blue eyes and pray for a hug, a kiss on my nose or a kind word. I tried to be good--good enough to calm you down or to make you smile--but through my child's eyes--all I could feel was not enough. As if you lived in one world, and I lived in another, the child I was once was--felt lost, wrong, infected, and ill. There was no bond between you and I. There were no silly hide and seek games, or butterfly kisses goodnight. In my world, I felt like a specimen in a dish, and they were your eyes peering down at me through a microscopic lens, as if waiting for me to move a little too far to the left or to the right.
When I was small, I wanted nothing more than to please you and make you smile. I experienced you as one who was rushed, nervous, angry, short tempered, and like a tornado and a volcano too. You called me names, and labeled me early on as selfish, a liar, and a psycho too. You said I would never have any friends--I'd be a hermit the rest of my life, you said. Once you told me you didn't have to like me--you only had to love me. That moment has forever been carved into my soul.
Yes, when I was little I did lie to you. I lied because I was afraid to tell the truth. I lied because I feared your reactions, your persecution, your criticisms, and would have done anything to try and prevent a borage of verbal assaults, none of which I as a child had any ability or right to defend against.
Yes, I stayed in my room--a lot. And that's because I wanted to stay out of your way, and because I was getting bullied at school. Many days I spent in my room, simply because I didn't want to bump into any of the boys who used to torture me at school. I did my best to stay out of your way, and when I was old enough, and met friends in high school--I did. I was never home--and inside me I though that is what you preferred--me out of your way.
As I got older, I heard you murmur that you thought that all I cared about was my friends. Way into adulthood, I heard you say things of that nature many times. But the truth is mom, I could never make you happy, or gain your validation. Like a carrot hung long before a horse's nose, your acceptance was something that was always out of my reach.
When I got divorced, I needed you more than you could ever know. I was afraid--no terrified, of being alone, and taking care of my three small children on my own. And then you and daddy were gone. Your move out of state, cut me to my core. I so wished I felt like you were trying to understand why I did what I did.
I didn't want to get a divorce. I had to get a divorce. My codependent marriage was killing me--literally.
I just wished you acknowledged that then.
It's thirteen glorious years later, and I am happy to announce that my life has turned around. I am engaged to a wonderful, kind, stable, healthy, empathetic, responsible and handsome man--who 'sees' me, who 'hears' me and who validates me for the being I am. But better than that, I have learned to 'see, hear, and validate' my own self. And that happened long before my fiancee and I met.
As I mentioned above, I held onto my book for twelve years before I published it, because I worried how you all would receive it. But after my surgery, and after J's suicide, I knew with all of me, it was time to let out all that I had for so long stuffed inside.
I know you are hurt, and unfortunately because our family does not know how to tell our emotional truths, we may never be able to discuss these issues fully.
I don't know how to say, "Mom and dad, you hurt me," and neither of you know how to say, "We never intended to hurt you, and if we did, from the bottom of our hearts, we're sorry. We did the best we could", so we all just do what we have always done. We skate around issues, use M as a go between us all, and stuff our emotions for one another.
You don't know how troubled I was as a teenager, because I was afraid to tell you. You don't know what I went through when I was married, because I was afraid of your criticisms, judgements and with disappointing you. Instead I pretended to be happy when I wasn't just like I did when I was little and when daddy would come home from work. I stuffed my emotions because I learned early that our family considered 'feelings' inconvenient truths.
When my asthma, migraines, and panic attacks got so bad that my doctors worried I might die, my spirit was forced to look you, daddy, and my ex husband and his family in the eye, and let go.
I had to let go of needing to make you all happy. I had to let go of trying to pretend. I had to let go of taking care of everyone else at the expense of myself. And if you think that was easy--you are so, so, so wrong.
When I went into therapy and my therapist told me I was codependent, I was confused. But the more I opened myself up to the idea, and the more I learned about codependency the more I understood what was wrong in our family.
And more importantly--what was wrong with me.
You should know that the greatest thing I learned about codependency and Adult Children of Alcoholics like yourself is--that it's not 'us, or me or you' that is wrong--it's the disease of alcoholism that has affected and infiltrated our ways of perceiving ourselves, our worlds and others.
Alcoholism hurt you mom and daddy too. You are both ACo A, and in spite of your denial about how you two have been affected by it--you have, and so has our family.
I know with all of my heart you two did the best you could--and if you read my book--you would learn how I was able to transcend my own childhood wounds so I could get to a point where I could truly see you and daddy as children, and understand how much of an amazing job you did with us compared to what your parents gave you.
Mom--I know you didn't drink because you wanted to show us differently. And with all of my being--I publicly thank you for being a better mother than your own.
I appreciate your sacrifices. I know you cleaned our house so masterfully because you lived in filth. And I know that was your way of loving and taking care of us.
I am so thankful for all the dentist appointments you took us on. Our mouths were a great priority of yours, and you made sure daddy spent money to get us the surgery we needed--and I know that sacrifice was great.
I know you tried in your own way to please me--and I am sorry the adolescent child I was--got cold and shut down. But please know--that if I hadn't grown that armor--I probably would not be here today.
Mom, I have watched you manage a home, a business, a husband, and three children all while cooking great meals, and sheet rocking walls too. I have watched you go out in your mid forties and secure a full time government job, when daddy went out of business. I watched you research bible studies and turn pastor's on their heads with your inquisitiveness. I have watched you care for the sick, and elderly, and have seen you cry while praising God. I have seen you smile, no matter what life has thrown at you, and have marveled at your resilience.
And today I want you to know, that in spite of it all, I am proud that you are my mother.
My book isn't about you and its not about me. It's about helping other people who have been affected by alcoholism--understand.
It's about helping other little kids like me, like I was--heal.
It's about helping ACoA moms calm down--turn within--and learn how to be gentle with themselves and their children.
It's about women who are in enabling marriages--who fear their husband's wrath learn how to honor themselves.
It's about helping confused people, who hate themselves and don't know why understand that at their core--in spite of what has ever been done or said to them--they are worthy.
It's about teaching families how to--forgive--understand--unconditionally.
It's about helping others learn how to stop lying to themselves--and how to begin telling their own truth.
It's about teaching the world--one word at a time--how to find inner peace--and ultimately learn to love 'self'.
Mom, you have taught me more than you realize. You did your job. You were a far greater mother than your own--you have nothing to be ashamed about. You have nothing to feel guilty about. You--like me--like all beings--made mistakes--and that is forgivable.
But it was my job to learn from your mistakes--and to do better.
And my books, and my website, and my Skype sessions, and all the other work I do--is part of the way I have chosen to do better.
I love you...
Lisa
Dear Lisa,
ReplyDeleteFor the past year or so, I have been reading every self help book I can get my hands on, watching videos by Tony Robbins, Darren Hardy, etc. I've tried meditation and have been trying to manifest abundance using the Law Of Attraction. Nothing was working!
I have a block (or two or nine) and realize that I have a deep seated fear of confrontation that is holding me back. I really feel that I need to work through this!
Somehow the Universe led me to this site to read your letter! I am in tears as I write this. My childhood experiences were a little different from yours as my father was an alcoholic. I have vivid memories of my mother being beaten while my younger sister and I hid in the back of the closet!
My father died when I was twelve, but I've carried all these memories for all these years and didn't realize how much my perception of the world has been affected!
I am anxious to read your book and want to thank you personally for reaching out to so many who are just like me.
Dear Dorothy,
ReplyDeleteYou and I have been traveling on the same road.
I--like you read books by Robbins and others--but could not shake this deep sense that I was probably fooling myself--I didn't know why I felt that way--all I knew is--I just did.
You will so--so--so enjoy my book--because it speaks specifically to you--the adult child--who was programmed to den--self--and to lie--and to fear--and to feel unworthy of love--because when your mind was a clean slate--as a child--it was being programmed with dysfunction--fear--self doubt--and a sense that you were not enough to receive love.
I feel you...on a deep knowing level--I feel your pain.
But I am also on the other side of that pain--and I have arrived to an amazing place...
My first book--The Road Back To Me is where you should begin...
I just wrote a second book, called, My Road Beyond The Codependent Divorce, which should be available within a few weeks.
Both books are easy reads.
I broke my story down--and my healing process--down into two books--for very specific reasons.
My first book is about finding the road back to me...
For so long I did not believe I had a right to feel, or to express or to set boundaries.
So when I finally found the courage to say enough--and I made the decision to leave my codependent marriage with three small children under my wings, is where my book ends..
But discovering it was 'me' that needed to change was only the first part of my journey.
The second book describes in detail--how I learned to change my thought process--and what was happening on the insides of my mind during the precise moments when I was beginning to feel lost...
That is what most self-help books today do not teach...
Louise Hay is the only writer I know of that even touches this subject area in detail.
My book takes you inside my mind, and gives you a visceral look at the way in which I was able to train my mind--in the moment it was feeling under attack by a family member, or otherwise.
As a man is internally--so is he externally.
I eventually realized that until I got down to my nitty gritty of a thought process--and unearthed the belief systems I was conditioned to believe in when I was an innocent child growing up in a dysfunctional home, no matter how many times I heard my conscious mind tell me how 'great' I was--I was never going to be able to manifest my inner desires.
The law of attraction is always at play.
When I did not believe I was worthy--I attracted people and circumstances that helped reinforce that subconscious belief.
How can an inner child like yourself, who was programmed by your parents to believe that love hurts, it lies, it denies, and confuses--how can an inner child like you--attract what your mind thinks it loves--when your inner child thinks love is painful?
But hold on sister...hold on...
You have found this website and my books, and me--so something within you is shifting.
You and I are very similar..and I am so very happy in my life right now--so therefore I must believe your emotional offerings are changing.
Perhaps--your inner desire for change has begin to tip your emotional scale in your inner beings favor.
I am so happy you are here...
And thank you for your post.
I am approaching Barnes and Noble this week and hoping that letters like yours will help them want to carry my books in their stores.
I am a fist time author, and self published, but I am hoping that in spite of these facts, Barnes and Noble will see the potential I have as a writer, and know that my work can help heal the world--in my own little way.
Namaste Dorothy--namaste...and bless you for letting me know how my writing touched you...
You and others like you--is why I write...
Lisa,
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing!
Thank you for reading, and visiting my blog..and for taking the time to leave a kind comment...
DeleteNamaste...
hi Lisa--i just wrote (another) letter to my mother, inducing tears, pain, agony and hurt...i'll look a mess tomorrow! anyhow, i searched to see if anyone had posted their letter, because i am so repressed that i can't even figure out the points of pain somehow. your posted letter helped a lot. i added some of your points to my letter. i hope that at some point i can stop writing this letter and will be strong enough to move on!
ReplyDeletei have been uncoverning some of my really odd beliefs, watching my behaviors, attending 12 step groups and therapy. i feel 'broken open', terrified, anxiety ridden (i'm not using my addiction to cover up the negative feelings though, no matter how much this stuff hurts), pitiful/sorry for myself and embarrased about my behaviors, lost...
i am looking for the bottom to come so that i can feel some peace and lightness, and trying to stay with all this pain. thanks for shining a light on the way forward! i will enjoy reading your books i am sure.
Hi Anonymous,
ReplyDeleteThank you for taking the time to let me know my letter helped you Deal--Feel--and Heal some of your old wounds. That's awesome.
All of our answers to 'why' we are in pain are found within--but essentially are rooted in the fact that--'our parents--even if they f***ed up--did the best they could'...
It is our job--to break the cycles of ignorance--and ultimately come to understand that 'WE HAVE THE POWER WITHIN' to transcend ANYTHING that has ever happened to us.
It is a slow process--but if your MAIN goal is to Heal--YOU MUST focus on the solutions--and NOT the problems.
Focus on how to make yourself FEEL better NOW--and not the pain from the past.
Yesterday I had an abnormally stressful day...I was fine--but things outside of my immediate physical control began becoming hard to dismiss.
When I finally got alone, I took long, hot epsom salt bath, lit a sweet smelling candle, meditated for one hour, and even took a brisk walk for an hour and a half.
Essentially I didn't sit too long with the negative feelings that were beginning to creep in--and I took ownership over my immediate state of being--and took back control over my emotional self as well..
Our immediate emotional Self is always within our control...and only when we believe we are victims of what has been, does emotionality feel like it is controlling us.
We are not little children anymore--and no one is the boss over us anymore either...
Your healing arrives--as soon as you SAY SO...
Please let me know how my book affected you...I so appreciate reader feedback--as it took all the courage I could muster to face my family dynamics and to reveal my families dynamics in the way that I did...
Know that I did so--just for readers like you--who needed some guidance out of the goop ones own toxic emotional past could be...
Namaste...