Grieving the Person I Never Became

From the moment I was born, I was raised in the church. We spent every Sunday morning there, along with Wednesday group and additional times for serving and fellowship. NOT having the faith, was not an option.

When I was five, my biological mom just kinda disappeared. She stopped showing up for visitations, and nobody ever really gave me a reason why. So, my little child brain decided I must be the reason; I wasn't good enough. She kept my sister, so it had to be me, right?

My dad was an alright guy, but he was never really emotionally available, and he was always wrapped up with work. Thankfully, my stepmom was pretty cool. Until she had her own biological children, that is. At which point, I turned into something of an in-house babysitter and maid in her eyes, at the ripe age of ten years old.

Come middle school years, I became a pro at living a double life. I was a secret rebel. Go to church a million times a week and keep straight A's, sneak out at night to drink myself into oblivion and get so high I forget my own name.

By high school, I was a closet alcoholic and starting to dabble with heavier drugs. I was addicted to any kind of attention, from literally anyone, because it was the only way I felt seen. Sex was the only thing that made me feel I had any value at all.

Halfway through junior year, at the young age of seventeen, I went to a voluntary rehab in Tennessee that my parents had found after kicking me out of the house. It was Christian, of course. But I knew I needed help. And I knew I couldn't get it for myself. So, off I went.

I spent my 18th birthday in that program. When I graduated, I lived with my parents again for about ten months before realizing I couldn't lead the lifestyle they so desperately wanted me to live. I left their home and ventured out into the wild, having no idea where to turn or what to expect.

Eight months later, I found myself mere weeks into a really unhealthy relationship, and pregnant.

Immediately after finding out about the pregnancy, I stopped smoking anything, stopped drinking, stopped everything I could that might be bad for my baby. I had always wanted to be a mother.

The father, on the other hand, did not want the responsibility. The relationship was rocky at best to start and increasingly got worse. It was abusive in a myriad of ways, to say the least.

I was completely caught up in working full-time, being a mother, and trying to be a good partner to someone who treated me like dirt.

I never once got the chance to discover who I was at my core.

I was the good, religious girl that turned into a junkie alcoholic, who then became a mother.

Amanda... who?

All that to say - now, at 33 years old, I am finally free.

I have been out of organized religion for 9 years. I have been no contact with my parents for 5 years. I have been out of my abusive relationship for 3 years and 7 months.

But now, I'm in the thick of it... Meaning, I'm healing - and along with that comes boatloads of grief.

We often misunderstand grief, thinking that it is an emotion that only surfaces when we lose someone we love. That is not the case at all. Grief comes in many forms, for nearly countless reasons.

I have spent years grieving all the situations and circumstances and incidents within my life. It’s been a whirlwind, for certain.

I am now in a phase of grieving the girl I never got the be, the woman I could've become, and the dreams I had to let die.

·         The little girl who could have been messy without consequence, shared her feelings and opinions without repercussions, chose her own personality instead of fitting into the box she was given. I wonder what it would have been like to have a childhood where I felt valued as a person. I imagine what it would have felt like to feel good enough, and how much better my life could’ve been had I been given that blessing.

·         The woman who isn’t terrified of confrontation, knows her value and worth, takes up space unapologetically, and holds boundaries like it’s her favorite job ever. I wonder how far in life I’d be (according to societal standards) had I been supported the way I deserved. I imagine what my phases of early motherhood would have looked like if I was loved properly. I think about how different my kids’ personalities could be, had I left the abuse sooner.

·         The dreams that abandonment, emotional neglect, addiction, abuse, and lack of autonomy stole from me.

There is no playbook for how to handle those types of feelings, so, I've just been rolling with the punches.

When the little girl in me wants to frolic or be loud and messy, I allow her to do so.

When the young teen in me surfaces with feelings of inadequacy, I validate her and change the narrative.

When the woman I am today gets lost in all the ‘what ifs’ of life, I pull her back gently. I remind her that even though she didn’t get to “become” someone when she was younger, she can do so now.

I have to keep in the forefront of my mind that things couldn’t have happened any other way.

I couldn’t have had a childhood without the chains of forced organized religion, because then I wouldn’t know how to help people lost in it.

I couldn’t have had a mother who stayed, because then I wouldn’t have known how to guide my children through their own abandonment wounds when their father left.

I couldn’t have had a life free of addiction, because then I wouldn’t be here reaching out to those still held down.

I couldn’t have had all sunshine and rainbows, because then I wouldn’t relate to others who are in the dark.

Every single thing I have ever been through has led me to the person I am today, and, in my opinion, she is a real neat lady. So even though I am grieving the person I never became, I am pretty proud of the person I am.

If you're like me and you're grieving who you didn't get a chance to become, please take hope from these words. It is never too late to change, you have been worthy from the second you entered this realm, and YOU ARE CAPABLE of becoming - whomever you wish to be.

If I can do it, you can do it.

I believe in you, we got this.

Talk soon, Kloveyoubye!

<3 - MamaBear