Liz's Story - Turning pain into purpose

Where to start but at the beginning I suppose? I am rewriting my story because I want to ensure that I'm telling it in a way that highlights my resilience in the midst of the adversities I have faced. I don't wish for any part of my past to be different because without it, I wouldn't be ME, and I happen to love the woman I have become. I am 46, married, mother of 2 and also a full time college student at a mostly traditional age university. So I wouldn't say I fit in but I also have decided to belong because that is well within my control. I come to this place, my education, and this project now because my life has had some twists and turns and obstacles I had to learn to overcome, one of the biggest being myself. Once I mastered the art of getting out of my own way, life got immensely better. It wasn't until mid-life that I realized that all of the baggage from the past was so tied to my identity that it was holding me in place, like quick sand. I went on an intensive two year journey to heal, forgive and retell my story so that it could empower me and also anyone who reads it may find a silver lining in it for themselves as well.

First I want to begin by saying that I can share my mess and love the people in it at the same time, so please don't think for one second that I am disparaging those that have hurt me. Hurt people hurt people and that's not just a cliche, that is what happens and that is how pain gets passed down generationally. We can only. give to others what we give to ourselves. So if we have worked on ourselves (which isn't so much an end goal as it is a lifelong process) then we are able to have compassion for what we have been through therefore we can GIVE compassion to others. See how that works? It took me over 40 years to really be kind and loving toward myself and celebrate the sheer badassery of my being. That being said, this is my story.

I was born with a congenital defect, into poverty, so my early life cast me in the outsider category right from the start. I was partly an only child and certainly a lonely child. My Mom had severe clinical depression that over time seemed to swallow her whole. She had other things going on that I suspect were undiagnosed which may have contributed to forming a dependence to pain medication. I never really knew my Mom on a deep level which makes me sad to say, but I wasn't able to fully understand what made her the way she was. Mind you she had many good qualities too; she wasn't the sum total of her struggles but her struggles did affect me profoundly. Still, as depressed as she was, she also had a huge heart to serve. She volunteered a lot at nursing homes and various local organizations and she would drag me along with her, which I hated at the time, but it actually planted seeds of service in me that helped form my own mission to serve women today. My father had a limited education and was our sole income, living with my Grandma not withstanding. My Dad wasn't a great money. manager and we simply didn't have enough of it to sustain all of our needs. However, what he lacked in financial agility, he made up for by being my soft place to land. He was gentle and kind and endlessly patient even through the turmoil of my teenage years..

I was an anxious child. How does one contract fear at such a young age? Is it genetic? Fear has with me since I was little and that has been a lifelong process learning to stand up to it. But when you're little, you haven't yet formed the coping skills or confidence it takes to do that. I had separation anxiety and insomnia which wasn't understood. I kept it inside because when I would voice my struggles, it visibly displeased people so I learned to just suppress it (not the best protocol but you learn to adapt). Mental health wasn't really handled appropriately and back then, early to mid 80's, it was still highly stigmatized. It was around 13 that I really became aware of my own depression but actually I never remember not having it. I wasn't a joy-filled child. This isn't to say there weren't some good times sprinkled in but overall, my home wasn't a "Live, Laugh, Love" place to be. I wasn't celebrated; I didn't have birthdays and Christmases were also just like another day only my Dad was home for a change. He never worked on Christmas. No one particularly delighted in me, which I don't fault now because life was hard and my family was on survival mode, managing one crisis to the next left no room for delight. However, as a child, I internalized that to mean I wasn't good enough or worth the fuss.

At 15 I began dating a 21 year old man. I had a hole where love should've been all along but wasn't, so that led to me confusing many other things for love. That relationship would last 11 years and produce one child, my son, my first true love. However, the relationship was a nightmare, verbally, mentally and physically abusive and the torment didn't end immediately when I left. I found myself a single mom, without any support, battling depression and PTSD, working multiple jobs and then I was laid off. I was beginning to backslide into the poverty I'd been desperately trying to escape. It would be close to a decade before my ex husband was forced to pay child support so I was completely and totally alone in the support of our son. Being resourceful and always having this stubborn refusal to sink, I was able to create a job for myself out of nothing. I began cleaning houses which allowed me a semblance of control in an otherwise powerless situation. I could set my own schedule and my own pay rate so long as the quality of work was on par with my fees, which it was. So that sustained us - we weren't getting rich but I was able to pay the rent and keep the electric on.

I also slowly began dating during this time, which was a series of duds (actually truly funny stories I'll save for a rainy day!) so I quickly decided on becoming the crazy cat lady at 26. But then I met my husband who redeemed my faith in humanity. We actually met online which at that time was very taboo and had a stigma though even then I couldn't understand why. Was it better to go to bars to find someone? Where was I supposed to "mingle" safely? Granted, the interwebs has its share of shade, but I found it much better than going to all of the local dives in search of a soul mate.

Fast forward to 2004, I remarried and we were expecting my daughter. We decided to move out of state due to ongoing harassment that was occurring from my previous relationship. Shortly after our move, my mother was hospitalized. When I got to her the brain scans confirmed what I saw in her eyes. She was gone. I was left with the decision to remove life support and I knew that her wish was not to live in a vegetative state. I have never doubted I did the right thing, but it's still a decision no daughter ever wants to face.

Mourning for my Mom has been an ongoing process but we actually have a really good relationship now. I can talk to her anytime, day or night. I feel her presence and I know she did the best she could as my mother in this life, given her own problems. I forgive. And likewise I have asked HER to forgive ME for being a total brat at times as a teenager. Now, I no longer cry for her or wish her to be here physically because that would be unfair to her. She wasn't happy here for reasons unknown, but I just know she's happy and surrounded by love on the other side.

In 2008 my Dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's Disease about 3 years after Mom died so again, my life changed and I was again forced to grieve but this time, it was a very slow motion grief. That was one of the hardest times in my life but also very formative and meaningful. I became my Dad's caregiver and guardian and I was very much in it alone as far as the day to day management and oversight, decision making, finances, etc. (credit going to immediate family and also cousins were very supportive by letting me vent, cry, providing meals, etc.). I have siblings from his first marriage but they chose not to be involved with him, and weren't supportive of me. The silver lining was that I got to know Dad on a deeper level, even though his reality was at times different than mine, there was definite joy to be had in that journey. Alongside him, was his wife Jean, my step mom, who also began declining. I kept collecting more people to take care of. She was more of a handful than Dad simply because she was still considered fully independent so I was constantly doing crisis intervention on her. It was very consuming, and draining physically, emotionally and financially. However, she was a good Mom to me and a wonderful Grandma to my children so when faced with these things, I guess you can step up or step out. I've always been a doer, an action taker and a person with a big heart so there was never any other option for me, but to go through it with them.

I lost my Step Mom in 2015 and my Dad in 2016. It took me three more years to get out of my own way to go back to school. It's funny when people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up (I mean we're a little late in the game for that but still)...when I was little, I don't remember dreaming which is sad but if you have been through financial poverty and depression, it's stifling to hope. So the only thing I can remember dreaming of when I was little was to have love and maybe a Cabbage Patch Kid. However, during my journey with Dad, emerged a dream to go into social work and it got louder and louder after he passed away. That inner voice, that is your intuition and she will only be ignored for so long. So after accepting another job that just wasn't right for me, I started having panic attacks quietly in the restroom which affected my participation and zeal to even be there. It was awful and I wasn't normally prone to full blown panic attacks so this wasn't a usual occurrence for me. I knew darn well it was my soul demanding I listen. I kept thinking of all the excuses that would discount me from going back to college in my 40's and those included, FEAR, being "too old", FEAR, going into debt, FEAR, what if I don't get straight A's?, FEAR, what if I don't fit in <--- this one I have to call bs on because I have quite literally never fit in before even when I arrived to certain milestones at the same age as my peers...and last but not least, did I mention FEAR? I decided two things and they were, I just had to do it scared if I was ever going to do it at all because fear had been the bully in my head since I was little so the only way to stand up to a bully is to face it head on. The other decision I made involved waiting for the conditions and circumstances to be what i deemed perfect. I couldn't do that because chances are I would have to take some risk and just have faith that the Universe would handle the details. So, that is exactly what I did.

My passion is to work with women to alchemize your own story. We are often so afraid of making others look bad that we either don't tell our story at all or we minimize our own greatness in the process. There IS a way to tell your story and honor yourself, and at the same time letting those experiences come to the surface, to the light. This isn't to blame anyone; these are your experiences and mine. Two truths can coexist - for example, I love my parents dearly but I also had these experiences. That adversity has become my asset in that I have all of that to draw on and it certainly helped cultivate a deep sense of empathy. I have also forgiven my ex-husband; I don't hate anyone because life is too short for that! Everything and everyone has been my teacher. The good, the bad and the ugly. You can allow your circumstances to define you, diminish you or develop you. It's your choice. I hope you will consider sharing a part of the story of YOU because you never know who it will positively impact, including yourself.