A continual Story of how tenacity can triumph over Adversity.
Chapter One: THE GOLDEN CHILD
My sad story starts like so many others, my sad story makes me want to cry.
I never want to live in the sadness because the sadness creates death, I make jokes when I am unhappy, I laugh when I want to cry but the truth is I am really this soft and when I am alone, I really do cry. I live in a weird kind of balance. I learn too quick with one thing and far too slow with the next. I am human, I am real flesh and bones, but I am also so much more. Its hard to tell a story without telling its sad parts and although I don’t wish to make you sad, I think its important that certain stories be told, I will look bad in a lot of this and so will others but for me it’s been a long time coming and I myself have learned the hard way that the truth does set us free. I will try to tell this story with as much tact and decorum as I possibly can but allow me to warn you that some parts of this story may be hard for some to digest, that’s life it is not all easy but its all real and truth. That’s me T is for Truth.
As a young girl I remember feeling like I was gold, I don’t know how else to explain it, I had golden hair in the summer and my mother used to describe me as good as gold. I translated that to mean I was in fact gold. (This can largely explain a whole period in which I hated gold and thought it to be ugly tacky and overrated but now I get ahead of myself). I used to understand I was alone; I mean not in the sad I’m lonely way but that I came into the world by myself, I also happened to have the understanding that I was very much not alone that all this busy world around me was outside of me and somehow also a part of me. I remember having an understanding that I was new to this plane of existence and that I had a lot to learn. Magic was a very real thing before I was five, because once I was five the whole world was going to change again in some big and hard ways but before that time I lived in magic, I was magic, and this was all acceptable the golden magic child was at her finest and truest self.
It’s weird to think back to a time when the purest form of self was still free to express herself sure lots went on that was terrifying enough but the reality is I had my roots or was at least beginning to develop them. I remember feeling supported by my surrounding unit of people, my mother and father got in mix up for sure as a direct response to addiction and self esteem issues that both had endured early on in their lives but they protected me, they loved me and they valued who I truly was and when they failed at these things I had a whole bunch of family members that would jump in to remind me that I was in fact the golden child.
Even at age of around three when my little sister entered the picture we were described as night and day. I always perceived this to mean that I was the sun that I was what was shinning golden upon our days, I never understood at that time that we were in fact one whole day and that these descriptive terms that I became so attached to would become some of the unhealthiest comforts I would come to establish in my early life. We had each other that was for sure, but I was unwittingly merging with this other little girl (with two empaths going through real life trauma this is not so difficult to achieve). Children endure trauma and siblings can become a support network this is a very common behavior so no one at this time would have thought anything about what was about to happen and what would continue to happen for many years to come. I fell head over heals in love with my sister and she for me and still we would continue a cycle of protection and trauma with each other because we were taught love by hurt/angry adults and as quickly as this particular comfort developed it would be taken away, my first memorable trauma (although I had seen a lot being raised by two drug addicted parents) would be loss, I would experience the loss of my of my parents, of my family of my security , of literally everything but my little sister at the age of five and no amount of violence and chaos that I had previously witnessed or endured would compare to this first major trauma, fear and doubt in everything were the end result in this situation and would pull back the reins on my ability to truly believe in myself. The fear of upsetting my family became so prevalent after my time in foster care that I would have nightmares as an older child of my mom becoming upset with me and revoking my daughter status and sending me back into the system to get lost. Without intention my trust in my family, in my roots and in myself was lost and to be honest this wouldn’t truly reappear in any real light until much later in life.
The golden Child would live on in my mothers eyes for a few years even after all this but to me she died the day I was removed from my baby sitters house in the late 1980’s , on that particular day The golden child became a protector of her little sister and an unwanted child of the system, damaged good’s unworthy of love, on that particular day self confidence and love would fly out the window and be replaced by a constant rain cloud of worry that no one could ever love her or want her. This very thought would be reaffirmed repeatedly in the next coming years but that is for a later chapter , for this Chapter we lay to rest the beloved golden child, the intelligent little girl, full of enquiry for life and love deep within, a protector in her own right but still a work in progress. For Chapter One ends the little girl who could and would change the world, her successor will tell a very different story, but that’s a story for chapter two….
T.Lowe 