Painful purpose

Painful purpose.  

The other day while in the self check out at Walmart, there was a family of 3 at the register in front of Maddy and I.  It looked like a mom-dad-and 3ish year old boy.  The family was dirty and disheveled.  The boy was crying...a lot…sitting in the front of the cart.  The dad kept telling him to shut up and then after a few minutes of continued crying, he slapped the boy ‘hard’ in the mouth.  I was instantly trauma triggered.  

Strong feelings surfaced immediately and I felt myself freeze up.  I was probably staring with a horrified look on my face.  

I realize that I have a tendency to overreact and have an extreme response that most may not, to situations involving correction.  While slapping someone on the mouth may not have been ideal- it doesn’t mean it’s going to turn into abuse.  

I'm struggling opening the door to understanding what I was feeling and what I felt afraid of, but this is my attempt to try. 

I can relate to this situation as a parent.  I remember slapping one of my own kids in the mouth when they were about that age.  I recall I was grasping for some sort of control over the situation.  I also remember feeling so terrible about it I never let myself get to that point again, but I still went there once.

When I saw that situation at Walmart, my hero instinct kicked in, I wanted to step in and help rescue the boy.  My empath nature kicked into overdrive as I put myself in his shoes and imagined the fear and sadness he was feeling.  My fear also kicked in and I didn’t know what to say or how to respond.  Just like when I was a kid.  I chose to look the other way.  Dang…

I have never been the victim of physical abuse…in fact, I was just the opposite…I rarely got reprimanded for anything.  However; I witnessed physical and emotional abuse.  The guilt of not being able to help stop it and the neurological effects continue to impact me.  I definitely still struggle with feeling responsible for not helping more, or standing up.  I see how I was self ‘trained’ to pretend nothing was happening.  I would seek shelter in my room and ‘mind my own business’.  At least this is my memory.  

 I still feel like I struggle with knowing when and how to speak up.  So, I Googled to find a few ways I could respond. I found some possible suggestions that feel in line with my values and feel like something I would actually say.  

“I remember when my children were that age. They can be a handful. Do you need any help?”

“Hey, I don’t mean to get into your business or tell you how to parent, but I noticed that…”

I was and still act like a coward.  Yes, I chose to selfishly hide in my room instead of standing up for what was right.  I remember laying in my room praying that this abuser…my dad…would die.  Please God take him away- I would repeat.  Yep, this was my repeated prayer.    How awful that feels today.  

Wait…I was a CHILD…where is my grace for myself?   I definitely didn’t have the tools or support to stand up to an angry adult, grown man.  I offer more grace and protection for the abuser than I do for child me.  Interesting…

I realize that healing may not come until I face my fears, and lean into the discomfort of talking to my dad about this.  What would be the purpose of this conversation and what would I hope to get from it?  

Yep…not ready for that.  Closing the door again…for now. 

I trust God has a purpose for this pain I’m experiencing…if I stay open and willing to look within there is something beautiful in the making.  God can use this pain to develop me and better myself.

I’m grateful:

• I am courageously willing to crack this door and peek inside 
• I curiously explore the possible effects this has had on me in the long term
• I am willing to try a different approach 
• I am willing to forgive as many times as necessary 
• I am showing vulnerability

Whatever the painful purpose is of these memories resurfacing I trust it will be revealed to me in time.  I AM and will be OK.