A real look at how we interact with our parents, siblings, and the coming of age in a trauma-filled household.
Journey with me as I learn how to communicate with the shadow of life and how it shaped me.
Do you know how to speak a shadow?
I recently lost my dad, again. When was the first time I lost him? In thinking about it I wasn't sure, but then it clicked it was when my youngest sister was born, and I lost my role as the baby of the family.
I remember the moment my life shifted; it was Christmas morning 1978.
I woke up excited to see what Santa had dropped off, as I crept down the stairs I saw magic, probably for the last time in my young life. There were baby dolls, cradles, and packages that screamed for my three-year-old fingers to unwrap.
As I reached for the doll sleeping in her bed, I was stopped short by my oldest brother. " No, you cannot touch those, until Mom gets home with the new baby." My toddler mind reeling with the thoughts of a new addition to our already full household.
How long did I have to wait, did I have another sister or a fourth brother? Well, I didn't have to wait long as the car pulled into the driveway. Excited as only a little girl at Christmas can be I ran to the car, clad in my slippers and bathrobe to stake my claim on the newcomer.
Only to be met with the steely gaze of my father, the baby was not ready to come yet.
Another false alarm. At that point, I realized I lost my dad for the first time.
In the years that followed, I felt my dad pull further and further away from me. I was not his first-born daughter, nor was I his last daughter. Others filled both those roles.
There seemed to be no place for the quiet, introverted extra sensitive child who cried for birds who fell from trees in my father's world. I tried to be the perfect child, one who stayed in the background, never asking for more than I felt I deserved.
Even then finding my nature and heart not a good fit for my dad's energy. He couldn't understand how I interacted with our house, or if I fit in there at all. It began a long tiring dance we both struggled to figure out the steps for.
So how many times can you lose a person before they die, and you're left with only memories of all the losses? I guess I am about to find out.
Join me as I chronicle a life that few would have signed up for, and even fewer would have survived. I hope you buckle up and stay for the ride and maybe we can all learn a little more about how you talk to a shadow.
The day my dad stopped breathing was the day I realized I have been writing this story for 48 years. It was as if his death permitted the pen to give it life.
Ironic how our stories unfold, how memories that hide can be brought to the light when darkness falls.
To anyone who reads this I have the privilege to work with Becki she is the real deal. She has helped me heal she gives love and light to anyone who needs it she is truly inspiring. Becki Thank you for sharing I look forward to more of your blogs
How beautiful that you created this blog not only for your own self heing, but to bring all of our shadow struggles out into the light. So much of what you just shared deeply resonated with me, especially about being an empath and the struggle to fit in where my "gifts" weren't. Thank you!
For 66 years I have been in my sister’s shadow. She was smarter, more successful, had a family, and could cut me to the quick with one comment. She was/is always right. Your sister got straight A’s, why not you. She has degrees. I thought once mom died the relationship would change between us. I now know that it will never be different. I am an orphan and an only child. I’m learning I need to deal with it.
you have helped so many, including me. 💕