Skip to main content

Touching base

 As an almost 40-something woman, I wonder - every day - how I got here. How to deal with my trauma responses and my defense mechanisms. How to be a good friend, a supportive mom, an enjoyable coworker, a loving girlfriend, a present daughter, and a  ... sister. How do I juggle my many titles? Do I need to understand my back to look forward? And if yes, why?

I was born and raised in a rural area, the second of 4 brothers and sisters. I love cats and reading. I enjoy silence. I listen the most to female artists. I write. I work as an administrative assistant. I have a toddler who's almost 18 months now. This list peaks a tiny bit into my circumstances. It doesn't tell you who I am though. What made me? I have been searching my past for so long now and the only way I know how to make sense of it is writing. Yes, I could write a journal (and I do) but I need feedback. I need to dig and show something for the time spent.

So here I am, trying to understand the journey that brings us to the present, a circle back to the episodes of my life.

Canadian Consortium on Child and Youth Trauma have found that 1 in 3 Canadians have experienced adverse childhood experiences, including sexual and physical abuse, and/or exposure to family violence. Some children and youth also face neglect and or adverse ommunity experiences such as discrimination, poverty, and/or other forms of violence and oppression.
I will try my best to gather as many sources as possible when posting about a topic - whatever it is. I hope you'll leave comments to challenge my views and share your own stories.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

No Demand for Brutal Honesty

I know nothing of what's to come Even when I try to peak through Future's curtains It terrifies me even more now I know it has nothing to do with worth I want to believe I know what's in the past Truth is, it's a never-ending chase through layers of verity As I aged, understanding shifts & colors changes But I am never closer to sincerity Authenticity is a friend I lost touch with I found out the hard way there is no demand for brutal honesty Friends I hang out too long with suffered from my anxiety Expressed through hurtful yet genuine concerns What's to come eludes me Same as how to prepare for it I am no more certain today than yesterday Certainties I used to have are gone in smoke I've come across an article written by Michelle Quirk of Psychology Today (1) about brutal honesty and I have never thought about it being ingrained into such violence. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary,  the word brutal " applies to people, thei...

One day, I will be famous

Souvenir It's early morning, the sky is an endless blue and the sun is making the asphalt glitter.  I stand beside my long time friend Marie; w e are in front of her house that has just been renovated.  We are not 10 yet and wearing summer clothes.  Something has happened last night but I don't quite remember whyat. I clearly remember the longing to be somewhere else, someone else. And I tell her: "One day I will be famous." I didn't happened yet. Will it? Maybe not, unless I am able to shake that sens of unworthiness that lingers on my soul and makes me withdraw from projects that might bring me further down a more... glorious? path. Just writing the word "glorious" leaves me somewhat uncomfortable. If I was to ever reach some sort of stardom, would I shy away from it? I long for that recognition, that sens of being important when, clearly, those who have reach these places are not happier than I. I stated before that if it's not on the Inte...