Intoxicated on Power: Why I Sent A Text I Later Regretted

My life has been pretty powerless up until now. That is the ugliness of child abuse; it strips you of your power. You are taught not to speak up. You are taught to ignore your needs. Being small and keeping out of the way becomes ingrained into your being. 

This is not normal. But it feels normal to those of us who have been steeped in it.

This kind of training does not wash out overnight. It cannot be unlearned at a seminar or even a week-long retreat. No amount of books read or podcasts listened to can teach me how to share my thoughts, desires, feelings now that I’ve learned those are the most dangerous things in the world.

My kids taught me that being invisible wasn't inherent. One of the very first things they learn to do after birth is to speak up for what they need. Even now that they have their own voices, when they don't feel confident in using it, they come to me (a safe person for them) and ask me demand that I speak for them! Their desires and discomforts must be expressed! How do they know this!? I certainly didn't teach them. Because I do not want them to grow up with the same scars I have, I force myself (when I can), to be their voice despite everything within me telling me that it’s the most dangerous thing I could attempt. 

Yesterday, my adult friend sat in my son’s seat. He had chosen the seat because it was beside me. He had gotten up momentarily with every intention of returning to his seat and was distressed to find her occupying it. His snack plate was still sitting there, now at her feet. “Tell her that’s my seat!” he whispered to me. I got sweaty and looked around for a way out, but there was no denying that it WAS his seat. "Tell her!" he whisper yelled, more adamantly. So I told her. 

    I didn't even realize I was bracing for impact until her soothing response washed over my clenched muscles like a balm on an old wound. “Oh my goodness!" she responded with warmth and delight, "I’m so sorry, Charlie. THANK YOU for telling me. Of course you may have this seat back. I’m so glad you told me!” Small but profound moments like this heal me. I spoke up and it was okay! It was more than okay; it was appreciated! Thank you, friend, for healing a small piece of me and offering wholeness to my son.

Later that day I went to my therapy session where we wrapped up the reprocessing of one of my more upsetting childhood memories. What started out as a vivid, detailed scene that evoked level 9 (out of 10) feelings of fear and powerlessness ended as a silhouette that was only mildly disturbing (level 2) and was now tied to the belief, "I have power." 

So maybe I was drunk on the power that comes from healing moments with friends and successfully reprocessing memories through EMDR when I replied to a text and was so bold as to tell that person that I'm not safe with them. I've not sent a drunk text before, but I think I have more understanding of what it feels like to wake up the next day and wonder what in the world you've done. I was bold and somewhat stupid, but I was not wrong. What kind of response can you expect from an unsafe person except an unsafe response? Did I think they would respond like my friend had earlier? "Oh my goodness! I'm so sorry! THANK YOU for telling me." Perhaps part of me wondered if I was misreading the situation. Maybe they ARE safe and I'm the one with the problem - too sensitive after years of abuse. Perhaps part of me thought they would want to know they're unsafe so that they can adjust and become safe? Sadly, people aren't ready to face what they aren't ready to face, so they told me it wasn't fair for me to state that as a fact and added in a prayer for God to change my mind.

    Lesson #1 on spiritual bypassing: when someone confronts you with something they think you’re doing wrong or a way you’re hurting them, DO NOT PRAY GOD CHANGES THEIR MIND. Pray He opens yours.

    Lesson #1 on stepping into your power: Do not start out using it on people you already know are unsafe.