Tag: inner child

A Letter to My 13-year-old Self

his is a repost of one of my most read blogs. As I consider all the events of the past two years, I thought the letter to my younger self speaks volumes about the journey toward publication of my memoir, What Kind of Love is This? My inner child still speaks to my soul in moments of chaos and doubt. When she does, I remind her she is not alone and thank her for her courage and fortitude through years of abuse. 

Where it began

Note: This is a repost of one of my most read blogs. As I consider all the events of the past two years, I thought the letter to my younger self speaks volumes about the journey toward publication of my memoir, What Kind of Love is This? My inner child still speaks to my soul in moments of chaos and doubt. When she does, I remind her she is not alone and thank her for her courage and fortitude through years of abuse. 

On Monday, March 18, 2019, I began the final class for the Master of Arts in Cultural Apologetics program at Houston Baptist University. The class provided the opportunity to complete a capstone project of our choosing. My project was beginning my memoir about the abuse I endured. However, the memoir chronicles more than the sexual, physical and emotional abuse inflicted on me. I wrote the detailed chronology of the abuse about 20 years ago but did not publish it. At sixty-six, I had the luxury of reflecting on my life much differently than at age forty-something. I see the consistent thread of God’s grace and the constant presence of Christ in my life. The memoir is not a testimony of instant relief or dramatic healing through deliverance; nor is it a clinic account of healing through intellectual and psychological understanding. There was no quick fix to the distress and chaos in my life. As I stated in other posts, I healed from the trauma by integrating faith, reason, and imagination. Letter writing is one of the most effective tools in my recovery toolkit. Writing letters, poems and journaling helped me express feelings and thoughts that were difficult to articulate any other way.

Who is Charlie?

Charlie is the nickname given to me in the 7th grade. I used the nickname throughout my teen and young adult years. When I started remembering the abuse at age 34, I went back to Charlotte, but I changed my middle name from Louise to Bethia.  I legally changed my middle name when I divorced my first husband. Charlie represents the child who could not speak for years because my mind silenced her.  For some reason, I felt she needed reassurance that she is safe. Writing the letter eased my anxiety about starting the memoir and allowed me to voice my fears about the project. For those who endured similar experiences as a child, think about what you might say in a letter to your younger self. As you read, imagine what your younger self needs to hear from you.

Note: Original post written before I began writing my memoir.

Dear Charlie,

Next week I begin to tell our story in a way that I never thought I would. I want to honor you in that telling, but I also must reveal things you may not be comfortable with other people knowing. You may feel betrayed by what I share. You want to hide or run away to one of your safe places. I understand because as I write, I sometimes want to run away too. The problem is that I can’t run anymore. I know you are afraid that somehow the bad people will find you and hurt you again, but I promise you they can’t find you. Most of them are dead and my name has changed so even if someone reads our story, they won’t know it’s you. I know they told you they would always find you no matter what and that you belonged to them, but they lied. They can’t hurt you anymore.

Remember how Jesus always came when you needed him most. He will not abandon you now. He will not leave you. He understands how frightened you are and will stay very close as I tell the world how badly you were hurt. He will help me explain how he kept your soul safe even when the bad people said they were stronger than him. They could not have your soul then and they will not get it now.

There are so many that need to know what you can tell them.

You never gave in to the demand to become like them. You fought them every day. They tried to break you, but you survived to fight another day. Yes, some who read the story will not believe that one little girl could endure so much pain. Some will say you made up the stories you tell. You heard the words, “that didn’t happen,” so many times that you believed them and forgot all they did to you. You invented a life that was absent of pain, a life that kept you sane.

You are Stronger than you think

When I remembered all you sought to hide, I nearly died. Sometimes I wanted to die to stop the pain. I did not understand that what happened was not my fault, nor was it your fault. I understand that now and want you to believe that you are not the evil person they said you were. You are a beautiful little girl who was robbed of innocence. You survived to tell the tale. You are not the frightened, defenseless child that hid in the corner. You are the beautiful, pure young woman who stood your ground when darkness engulfed you.

Charlie, our story will help other children who suffered in darkness. By telling the truth and sharing the light, others may finally see beyond the pain and finally be free. Put your fears to rest, little one. You are safe and no harm will come because the same Jesus who held you in the darkness stills guards your heart and your soul.

I love you,

Charlotte

What would you say in a letter to your younger self?

Related Posts:

Angel in the Cellar

Letters of Hope- Part One

The Child Left Behind

Changing your Inner Voice

When I recognize the inner voice that tells me to sabotage a relationship, or warns me to run away from a friendship, I stop the thought and replace it with scripture. Part of the process is identifying when I felt the same emotions or physical sensations

Long Term Effects of Abuse and Neglect

Note: This is a repost of a blog I published last year. As the release date for my memoir is just days away, I realized the content resonates with me today. I struggled with the inner voice of a frightened little girl this week. Reading this post grounded me once again. 

I recently posted the link to an article by Roland Bal on my Facebook page. In the article, “Child Neglect and Its Long-Term Repercussions into Adulthood”, Bal explains,

 “In childhood, your brain and nervous system are busy laying down neural pathways. You are dependent on your environment for a stimulus to promote that growth of the neural pathways in your brain and nervous system.”[1]

Even though Bal’s background is mostly grounded in psychology and eastern religions, he presents a good overview of how important early experiences are to our emotional and social development. Bal explains that in cases of severe neglect there is no reference point for the individual which results in stunted emotional and social growth. The deficit often leads to seeking recognition outside of ourselves. The result is an adult who has no sense of self in the case of neglect and a distorted sense of self in the case of abuse.

In the article, Bal makes the statement that his “description makes child neglect and its repercussions into adulthood look very bleak.”[2] He then offers a few suggestions to help an individual rewire their brain.

The God Factor

While his suggestions are one method for finding a reference point and breaking old patterns of coping, there is another component that I found essential in my healing process-recognizing God’s constant presence in my life. I benefited greatly from psychological techniques like the ones Bal describes, but I always felt like something was missing as applied the meditation, positive affirmations and other tools that I learned.

A significant turning point for me in my healing process was embracing the truths found in the Bible about my identity. Yes, I constantly sought acknowledgment outside of myself and feared rejection because of the abuse and neglect I endured as a child. Bal’s description, “From there on it can become gridlocked into a habitual pattern of continually trying to please others while being met by further rejection or even abuse,”[3] describes the way I approached life for many years.

Sometimes, I still fall into the pattern which hinders my ability to form healthy relationships.

When I recognize the inner voice that tells me to sabotage a relationship, or warns me to run away from a friendship, I stop the thought and replace it with scripture. Part of the process is identifying when I felt the same emotions or physical sensations. Once I identify an experience, I change the conversation to something like I am not that frightened little girl anymore, I am a child of God and the evil one cannot touch me. Or, God did not create me with Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD, anxiety or depression, so I do not have to react the way I used to react.fearfully and wonderfully made

The simple process takes me out of the moment, but not as a dissociative episode.  By remembering and announcing my identity in Christ, I ground my mind on the truth and dismiss the lies that my experience taught me. The change happens within me and centers me long enough to breathe, pause and react to the circumstance as a healthy adult rather than a frightened child.

The symptoms of mental illness are devastating and are not easy to manage, but I find that when I include scripture, prayer and speak the truth when I experience an intense situation, it brings calm to the chaos in my mind. I like to think of the process as integrating faith, imagination, and reason to bring about a more complete healing for the mind, body, and spirit. The process is life-long, but not hopeless. Rewiring my brain continues, but I don’t think it gets short-circuited as often or intensely as it did years ago.

I Am Not the Same

As I write my memoir, I realize there are nuances of my childhood experiences that were untouched during the initial years of healing. As I explore those nuances, I understand more about my reactions and emotions as an adult. However, I also see how far I have come. I ask for help and for prayer from others before I am in crisis. I take breaks and practice self-care. I allow myself to grieve when I realize some new detail. I don’t dissociate or lose my grip on reality like I did years ago.

I think I can say with confidence that there is hope and that Bal’s statement that “child neglect and its repercussions into adulthood look very bleak,”[4] is not true for everyone. I agree with Bal’s contention that “for many this is their reality.”[5] However, with a combination of psychological tools like those Bal lists and Biblically based tools, adults can find contentment, form healthy relationships and not be trapped by the faulty belief that their situation is hopeless.

Related Posts:

The 4R’s of Taking Your Thoughts Captive

Stop the Spiral

[1] Roland Ball, Child Neglect Long Term Effects

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

Must I Walk this Path Again?

Although the sonnet below is a reflection of my recent journey down memory lane, I think it reflects the healing journey many survivors face as the wrestle with memories, triggers and flashbacks. If this is you, I hope my words bring comfort to your troubled heart and renew your faith that there is hope of redemption because of Jesus Christ. 

As I thought about what to share this week, I remembered the sonnet  I wrote and posted over a year ago when the emotional turmoil of writing my memoir overwhelmed me. As I worked on query letters and book proposals those emotions resurfaced. While not as intense as last year, they were exhausting. Healing is exhausting. Even after years of freedom from the emotional devastation that turned my life upside down, recalling the pain of my childhood drained me to the core. I recognized once again the importance of self-care, renewing my mind and staying connected with friends and family. More importantly, I remembered that Christ is the ultimate source of strength and comfort.

Although the sonnet below is a reflection of my recent journey down memory lane, I think it reflects the healing journey many survivors face as the wrestle with memories, triggers and flashbacks. If this is you, I hope my words bring comfort to your troubled heart and renew your faith that there is hope of redemption because of Jesus Christ.

Must I Walk this Path Again?

Oh, child so fair, your words exhaust my soul.

Your words ignite forgotten rage and pain.

Your words recall your fight to win control.

I did not think I’d walk this path again.

The path is dark, oh help me find my way.

This path is not the one from long ago.

Oh Lord, I do not think I want to stay.

The fear of pain commands that I should go.

Oh, child so fair, I hear your voice. It’s clear.

You tell the tale of hope that kept you sane.

You tell the tale that wiped away your fear.

Ah, I know why I walk this path again.

To show her she is precious in your sight.

To show her you have made everything right.

Related Posts:

Giving Her a Voice

Be Still and Know that I am God

Letter to a Beautiful Girl

Writing a memoir is not easy. Over the past several weeks I have learned a great deal about the little girl who endured so much at the hand of those who should have loved and cared for her. The chapters of the memoir are told through the eyes of a child, but as the adult on the other side of the trauma, I feel compelled to write short reflections to that little girl to encourage and uplift her.

Writing a memoir is not easy. Over the past several weeks I have learned a great deal about the little girl who endured so much at the hand of those who should have loved and cared for her. The chapters of the memoir are told through the eyes of a child, but as the adult on the other side of the trauma, I feel compelled to write short reflections to that little girl to encourage and uplift her. I also insert letters into the memoir at significant points in the narrative with the hope that they offer the reader a breath of fresh air as they read my story. The letter below is one of the Reflections from the memoir. I reference my father and my Uncle Ray in the letter because they were the primary perpetrators of abuse in the chapters preceding the letter. 

Oh, beautiful girl,

My heart aches when I hear your cries. I long to remove all your fear and doubt, but that must wait for just the right moment. You ask so many questions that no one answers, so you use the brilliant mind that God gave you to answer them. Sometimes your conclusions are right, but sometimes they are distorted by your experience.

You view the world through dark and shattered lenses that create a broken image of the world, God and yourself. I’ve learned much from you these past few weeks as I’ve walked beside you through the darkness. You’ve reminded me that you always wanted to know the truth and fought hard to find it. I know that you doubt God’s love for you and wonder how to find the peace and comfort you learned about in Sunday school. You will find the answer, beautiful girl, I promise you.

Do not lose your faith, little one, God loves you and never leaves your side. When He sends an angel, it doesn’t mean He loves you less. Angels protect and comfort us in a unique way. Sometimes God sends an angel; but God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit are always with you.

The days ahead will be difficult, beautiful girl, but trust that God will get you through them. He will guide you along a path to freedom. You will not always live in pain and fear. You will help others, who walk a similar path, to understand how to overcome their pain.

Beautiful girl, please remember this—God loves you no matter what Daddy or Uncle Ray tell you. You are beautiful no matter what happens to you.

All my love, adult Charlotte

Must I Walk this Path Again?

The sonnet below is a poetic version of last week’s blog. In the sonnet, I attempt to capture the emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil of the past few weeks. However, I also want to express the hope and courage I’m rediscovering as I write. The final couplet reaffirms God’s love for me and the child who’s tale I tell.

The sonnet below is a poetic version of last week’s blog. In the sonnet, I attempt to capture the emotional, physical and spiritual turmoil of the past few weeks. However, I also want to express the hope and courage I’m rediscovering as I write. The final couplet reaffirms God’s love for me and the child who’s tale I tell.

Oh, child so fair, your words exhaust my soul.

Your words ignite forgotten rage and pain.

Your words recall your fight to win control.

I did not think I’d walk this path again.

 

The path is dark, oh help me find my way.

This path is not the one from long ago.

Oh Lord, I do not think I want to stay.

The fear of pain commands that I should go.

 

Oh, child so fair, I hear your voice. It’s clear.

You tell the tale of hope that kept you sane.

You tell the tale that wiped away your fear.

Ah, I know why I walk this path again.

 

To show her she is precious in your sight.

To show her you have made everything right.

 

Related Posts:

Giving Her a Voice

Be Still and Know that I am God

Giving Her a Voice

Writing the first few chapters of my memoir, What Kind of Love is This?-Finding God in the Darkness, was hard, much harder than I anticipated. I am exhausted physically, spiritually, and emotionally. While the memoir focuses more on hope, redemption, and faith rather than detailed descriptions of the abuse that I endured, it sometimes left me raw.

Writing the first few chapters of my memoir, What Kind of Love is This?-Finding God in the Darkness, was hard, much harder than I anticipated. I am exhausted physically, spiritually, and emotionally. While the memoir focuses more on hope, redemption, and faith rather than detailed descriptions of the abuse that I endured, it sometimes left me raw. I thought I had processed all the baggage from my childhood, but writing my life as a story around a specific theme has peeled away more layers. I discovered that showing my readers what happened is much different than telling the story. Telling allows me to create some distance and describe events like the narrator of a documentary. Showing, on the other hand, puts me smack in the middle of the events. Those scenes brought new insights and understanding to aspects of my childhood that carried over into my adult life. My hope is my readers will see and feel the scenes through the eyes of the child I was rather than through the eyes of an adult recounting past events.

The biggest revelation came this week when I realized that writing the memoir has transformed memories from a slide show into a feature-length movie.

I am at the center of the action and experiencing nuances of events that were left out years ago when the memories surfaced. I also discovered that I still have grief work to do for the child that had no voice and suffered in silence. I am giving her a voice through the narrative, and she is speaking loud and clear. Her message is one of struggle to find hope amid the despair and loneliness created by my family. While I struggled to understand who Christ was and how He interacted with me, I found hope through my faith in Christ.

Writing the memoir has also brought an element of joy.

Several times I’ve smiled when I realize where a habit originated. Some seem rather silly, but they show the power of childhood experiences. For example, up until last Christmas, my kitchen décor consisted of 80s’ style grapevine themed everything. I didn’t know why

agriculture blur branches bunch
Photo by picjumbo.com on Pexels.com

I liked grapevines, but the themed décor brought comfort to me. Then, as I worked on my memoir this week, I recalled that I escaped the chaos of my home by spending time in an old grape arbor in our backyard. I had encounters with Jesus in that enclosure that kept me sane during the time we lived in that house. Perhaps, subconsciously, the grapevine themed kitchenware provided that same comfort. (Yeah, I know that seems silly, but it made me smile.)

John 15:5- (ESV)

5 I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

I also realize that I cannot do this project in my own strength.

Early in the process, I created a group text with four women that have supported me through prayer many times over the last several years. Each time I begin writing, I send the message, writing now. I include a brief description of what my goal is and specific requests for the writing session. When I finish for the day, I send the message, done for the day. Knowing I have four powerful intercessors praying for me while I write gives me the courage and the stamina to complete the session.

I am revisiting self-care this week as I try to balance writing my story by getting enough rest, eating well, and taking care of other essential activities. Sometimes I write longer than I should because I feel an urgency to be done with it.  I realize that I can’t just be done with it because that short changes the frightened, yet very strong little girl who is showing me parts of our story that I have not attended too. I recognize the need to take breaks, take naps, and listen to my favorite hymns frequently to stay grounded.

The process has not sent me back to the darkness of my early days of healing

I know the physical, emotional, and spiritual signals to prevent that from happening. I have tools that keep me in the present. I have friends and family who pray for and encourage me. I am not alone in this process. I am not reliving the trauma; instead, I am giving voice to a very strong young lady who never gave up and who trusted Jesus to keep her soul safe from destruction.

Changing your Inner Voice

When I recognize the inner voice that tells me to sabotage a relationship, or warns me to run away from a friendship, I stop the thought and replace it with scripture. Part of the process is identifying when I felt the same emotions or physical sensations

Long Term Effects of Abuse and Neglect

I recently posted the link to an article by Roland Bal on my Facebook page. In the article, “Child Neglect and Its Long-Term Repercussions into Adulthood”, Bal explains,

 “In childhood, your brain and nervous system are busy laying down neural pathways. You are dependent on your environment for a stimulus to promote that growth of the neural pathways in your brain and nervous system.”[1]

Even though Bal’s background is mostly grounded in psychology and eastern religions, he presents a good overview of how important early experiences are to our emotional and social development. Bal explains that in cases of severe neglect there is no reference point for the individual which results in stunted emotional and social growth. The deficit often leads to seeking recognition outside of ourselves. The result is an adult who has no sense of self in the case of neglect and a distorted sense of self in the case of abuse.

In the article, Bal makes the statement that his “description makes child neglect and its repercussions into adulthood look very bleak.”[2] He then offers a few suggestions to help an individual rewire their brain.

The God Factor

While his suggestions are one method for finding a reference point and breaking old patterns of coping, there is another component that I found essential in my healing process-recognizing God’s constant presence in my life. I benefited greatly from psychological techniques like the ones Bal describes, but I always felt like something was missing as applied the meditation, positive affirmations and other tools that I learned.

A significant turning point for me in my healing process was embracing the truths found in the Bible about my identity. Yes, I constantly sought acknowledgment outside of myself and feared rejection because of the abuse and neglect I endured as a child. Bal’s description, “From there on it can become gridlocked into a habitual pattern of continually trying to please others while being met by further rejection or even abuse,”[3] describes the way I approached life for many years.

 

Sometimes, I still fall into the pattern which hinders my ability to form healthy relationships.

When I recognize the inner voice that tells me to sabotage a relationship, or warns me to run away from a friendship, I stop the thought and replace it with scripture. Part of the process is identifying when I felt the same emotions or physical sensations. Once I identify an experience, I change the conversation to something like I am not that frightened little girl anymore, I am a child of God and the evil one cannot touch me. Or, God did not create me with Borderline Personality Disorder, PTSD, anxiety or depression, so I do not have to react the way I used to react.fearfully and wonderfully made

The simple process takes me out of the moment, but not as a dissociative episode.  By remembering and announcing my identity in Christ, I ground my mind on the truth and dismiss the lies that my experience taught me. The change happens within me and centers me long enough to breathe, pause and react to the circumstance as a healthy adult rather than a frightened child.

The symptoms of mental illness are devastating and are not easy to manage, but I find that when I include scripture, prayer and speak the truth when I experience an intense situation, it brings calm to the chaos in my mind. I like to think of the process as integrating faith, imagination, and reason to bring about a more complete healing for the mind, body, and spirit. The process is life-long, but not hopeless. Rewiring my brain continues, but I don’t think it gets short-circuited as often or intensely as it did years ago.

I Am Not the Same

As I write my memoir, I realize there are nuances of my childhood experiences that were untouched during the initial years of healing. As I explore those nuances, I understand more about my reactions and emotions as an adult. However, I also see how far I have come. I ask for help and for prayer from others before I am in crisis. I take breaks and practice self-care. I allow myself to grieve when I realize some new detail. I don’t dissociate or lose my grip on reality like I did years ago.

I think I can say with confidence that there is hope and that Bal’s statement that “child neglect and its repercussions into adulthood look very bleak,”[4] is not true for everyone. I agree with Bal’s contention that “for many this is their reality.”[5] However, with a combination of psychological tools like those Bal lists and Biblically based tools, adults can find contentment, form healthy relationships and not be trapped by the faulty belief that their situation is hopeless.

Related Posts:

The 4R’s of Taking Your Thoughts Captive

Stop the Spiral

 

[1] Roland Ball, Child Neglect Long Term Effects

[2] Ibid.

[3] Ibid.

[4] Ibid.

[5] Ibid.

A Letter to My 13-year-old Self

as I embark on the task of telling my story in the form of a memoir, I wrote a letter to my younger self, Charlie. Charlie is the nickname given to me in the 7th grade. For some reason, I felt she needed reassurance that she is safe. Writing the letter eased my anxiety about starting the memoir and allowed me to voice my fears about the project.

A New Adventure Begins

On Monday, March 18, 2019, I begin the final class for the Master of Arts in Cultural Apologetics program at Houston Baptist University. The class provides the opportunity to complete a capstone project of our choosing. My project is beginning my memoir about the abuse I endured. However, the memoir chronicles more than the sexual, physical and emotional abuse inflicted on me. I wrote the detailed chronology of the abuse about 20 years ago but did not publish it. At sixty-six, I have the luxury of reflecting on my life much differently than at age forty-something. I see the consistent thread of God’s grace and the constant presence of Christ in my life. The memoir is not a testimony of instant relief or dramatic healing through deliverance; nor is it a clinic account of healing through intellectual and psychological understanding. There was no quick fix to the distress and chaos in my life. As I stated in other posts, I healed from the trauma by integrating faith, reason, and imagination. Letter writing is one of the most effective tools in my recovery toolkit. Writing letters, poems and journaling helped me express feelings and thoughts that were difficult to articulate any other way.

Who is Charlie?

Charlie is the nickname given to me in the 7th grade. I used the nickname throughout my teen and young adult years. When I started remembering the abuse at age 34, I went back to Charlotte, but I changed my middle name from Louise to Bethia.  I legally changed my middle name when I divorced my first husband. Charlie represents the child who could not speak for years because my mind silenced her.  For some reason, I felt she needed reassurance that she is safe. Writing the letter eased my anxiety about starting the memoir and allowed me to voice my fears about the project. For those who endured similar experiences as a child, think about what you might say in a letter to your younger self. As you read, imagine what your younger self needs to hear from you.

Dear Charlie,

Next week I begin to tell our story in a way that I never thought I would. I want to honor you in that telling, but I also must reveal things you may not be comfortable with other people knowing. You may feel betrayed by what I share. You want to hide or run away to one of your safe places. I understand because as I write, I sometimes want to run away too. The problem is that I can’t run anymore. I know you are afraid that somehow the bad people will find you and hurt you again, but I promise you they can’t find you. Most of them are dead and my name has changed so even if someone reads our story, they won’t know it’s you. I know they told you they would always find you no matter what and that you belonged to them, but they lied. They can’t hurt you anymore.

Remember how Jesus always came when you needed him most. He will not abandon you now. He will not leave you. He understands how frightened you are and will stay very close as I tell the world how badly you were hurt. He will help me explain how he kept your soul safe even when the bad people said they were stronger than him. They could not have your soul then and they will not get it now.

There are so many that need to know what you can tell them.

You never gave in to the demand to become like them. You fought them every day. They tried to break you, but you survived to fight another day. Yes, some who read the story will not believe that one little girl could endure so much pain. Some will say you made up the stories you tell. You heard the words, “that didn’t happen,” so many times that you believed them and forgot all they did to you. You invented a life that was absent of pain, a life that kept you sane.

You are Stronger than you think

When I remembered all you sought to hide, I nearly died. Sometimes I wanted to die to stop the pain. I did not understand that what happened was not my fault, nor was it your fault. I understand that now and want you to believe that you are not the evil person they said you were. You are a beautiful little girl who was robbed of innocence. You survived to tell the tale. You are not the frightened, defenseless child that hid in the corner. You are the beautiful, pure young woman who stood your ground when darkness engulfed you.

Charlie, our story will help other children who suffered in darkness. By telling the truth and sharing the light, others may finally see beyond the pain and finally be free. Put your fears to rest, little one. You are safe and no harm will come because the same Jesus who held you in the darkness stills guards your heart and your soul.

I love you,

Charlotte

What would you say in a letter to your younger self?

Related Posts:

Angel in the Cellar

Letters of Hope- Part One

The Child Left Behind

 

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