Perfectly Perfect

“In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they're still beautiful.” Alice Walker

I couldn't stand to be looked at.....I hated to be seen. Whenever someone looked in my eyes I thought they could see in them what I knew...that I was...stupid....garbage... worthless....all those things I had been told. I kept thinking I needed to change...to be more like someone else or at least the way others told me I should be.... 

Funny thing about lies....they sound and feel so much like truth. My girls are very different from each other...the way they move in the world....the things they like....the way they approach things....In my eyes though.....both of them are perfect just the way they are.

When I had my youngest, my oldest was four. One night as I was putting her to bed, I asked her....Are you jealous of the baby?  I've never forgotten her answer.

No. She said. She's the best girl she is and I'm the best me I am. 

I was blown away by her words. I still am. Her amazing insight helped me to begin accepting the truth that I didn't need to be anybody but me....no more twisting to fit someone else's idea or expectations of who, what or how I should be....

I love the differences in my girls. I love that they see and do things unique to them. It's what makes our life together pretty fun. 

Being a mom....loving my kids - the good things about them and even the not so good things....has taught me He's made everyone unique and perfectly perfect the way we are. That means me too. It's the quirks....those little things that drive us.....the flaws....those traits....and habits I hated about me - now I see they're just a part of who I am. 

Watching my kids.....loving them for who they are...has helped me challenge those lies I carried....lies that insisted I wasn't good enough. I've learned...being perfect means being flawed....it's part of the beauty of who we are.

True Friendship

"In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies but the silence of our friends." Martin Luther King, Jr

 My older sister and I were separated for a long time. Our parents tried hard to keep us apart... It didn't work...we found each other three years ago and somehow....became best friends. 

At first...we didn't trust...but we both wanted the connection. We pushed past the distrust...past our own needs....even past hurt feelings at times.

We're different her and I... our likes, how we do things...how we move in the world.....yet in other ways....we're the same. - Our pain....the way we look at life....the effects the abuse had on us....our desire to live our best lives.  

Somehow we figured out......to always keep a hand extended out to each other...never closing the door because of hurt feelings....or misunderstandings or differences. We've been in each other's corner... encouraging... supporting....believing the best...accepting each other completely. And always with a hand extended out....never taking it away....never closing the door.....never leaving the other with unresolved hurt feelings...never silent...never ignoring the other. That has made the difference. 

I fought so hard to be free....alone...with friends dying...or leaving...or moving on.  For the first two years...I was afraid my sister's words weren't real....that she would leave...close the door....move on.. She hasn't and she told me she will never go away. I believe her...And I vow that to her too.

Sisters

"A sister is both your mirror and your opposite." Elizabeth Fishel   

My sister and I were separated since we were kids. Our parents tried to turn us against each other and keep us apart. It worked. We lived our lives in different worlds...not knowing each other...not trusting the other.....
But the sister bond between us brought us together - strong and tight...in spite of what they did to keep us apart.

The two of us are different - I'm the youngest...a thinker - practical - cautious trusting people. My sister runs on her emotions...She cracks me up with her crazy adventures that always end in a cry for help. Impusive with money, she buys whatever she wants....never looks at prices. Me? I don't spend....I wait...I can't make up my mind. I never know what I want....what I like....I calculate the cost and often talk myself out of buying something. I'm physical...a runner...restless...always moving. She's a couch potato. As a kid...living with chaoes and abuse....she reached out to others....found support...found safe places to fall. I pulled inside myself...trying hard to be invisible.

But there are similiarities. She too believed she had no right to exist. And she hurt herself. Not like me....in different ways. She became addicted to food. Eating became her comfort. People didn't notice her pain. Overeating and weight issues were more acceptable than shooting dope...than throwing up...than looking emaciated....She laughed on the outside...hurt on the inside. And she recently told me she took burning hot showers that sounds similiar to my cutting myself. 

I never believed what happened in our house was bad. I didn't think it was a big deal. I acutally thought it was normal...that something was wrong with me for all the beatings and name calling. But my sister forced me to look at the truth.....forced me to see the impact it had.

Connecting with her has helped me heal...espeically from some of the shame. She knew the truth. I guessed at it. She confirmed what was in my head....I thought I had made it up. 

Recently she's been telling me she's sorry...sorry for not being there to help me...sorry for leaving me with him...for watching me fall so far down with no one to help.  She tells me I'm a miracle....her inspiration. I think she is too. 

Growing in the Rocks

"Where flowers bloom so does hope." Lady Bird Johnson

When I went to visit my sister in Israel, she took me to the top of this rocky mountain. Nothing was there - just rocks, stones, and gravel. But it was still beautiful. Maybe because it was so isolated and high. Standing there I felt like I could touch the sky.

We sat there - just the two of us - bathing in the soft wind, the warm sun and the peaceful quiet. Then she started talking, telling me how awful it was for us as kids. She talked about the beatings, the constant bullying, ridicule and name calling, being left alone - the fear, the shame, the terror. She said she was sorry she didn't protect me - that she wasn't there for me.

I was still in denial. I didn't believe it had been so bad. She told me how afraid she had been watching me slowly die from the drugs, the eating disorder - not understanding why I wouldn't or couldn't talk. She had run to her friends. I withdrew into myself trying to become invisible.

I'm not sure why we hadn't noticed them before, but there a few feet from us, two flowers, side by side were growing in the rocks. We were stunned. How could they grow in the middle of all that hardness? How could those two flowers survive and grow?

Somehow they had managed to grow without good soil or adequate rain. I looked at my sister. "We survived." My sister is older than me. And more emotional. She broke down and cried. I forced myself to be strong like I had done since I was a kid.

"It was so bad." She said. "How did we survive?"

I looked up at ths sky. I knew. I remember when my mother was dying. We lived in a tight Jewish area. I came home from school and was surprised to see a nun sitting with my mother. I think that woman prayed for us. I think God heard.

Thinking about those two flowers, I wonder if God put them there for us - to show us - even in the hard places He's there helping us to grow, helping us to be strong, keeping us safe. I need to believe that.