…sum of all my parts

I am, like all human beings, many things. Mother, Daughter, sister, friend, grandmother( I prefer Nana), co-worker, the list goes on. But I’m more than that. Our experiences shape us and while we have shared some experiences with some people we don’t all share all the same experiences. It’s difficult sometimes to see why my family doesn’t really understand who I am when I forget that they never really knew me anyway. When you come from a large family they tend to see you as your childhood actions, emotions and memories (their memories of you, not yours). Even when I was a child what they saw was on the surface. I had a secret life. It wasn’t necessarily a secret because I didn’t want them to know, but a secret because they didn’t want to hear. I tried to tell them. When I tried to tell them I became “so dramatic”. It’s easy to ignore the truth when you give it a label. “Didi’s just so dramatic” was the label for my truth. My truth became less believable under that label. I had less credibility under that label. My pain was desensitized under that label. So much so that I began to doubt my own truth. I began to doubt my own credibility and my own pain. It took years for me to realize that those things didn’t define me. I had to learn through the self-destructive havoc that I wreaked on my own life that I was more than the sum of all my parts. I’m still learning…


~ by Diva2de on February 6, 2011.

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