I can curse the abusive hands that hurt, and drop to my knees in gratitude for the beauty they created. And I can wish with every fiber of my being that the immense gift of you didn’t have to be forged so brutally. I’m grateful for all of you. xo
I’m grateful for all of you, too, Kate. I hate what’s happening in our country and I hate how scared and uncertain we are about how we’re supposed to respond in the face of so much cruelty and chaos. But at least seventeen times a week I think about how grateful I am to know you. May we somehow make it through this and find ourselves in calmer, safer and greener pastures. Hugs and love to you and Riggs❤️🩹
your young experiences rang a bell for me (actually many bells). I was the eldest son, and I absorbed a lot of the alcohol fueled anger until I finally left home at the age of thirteen. My saving grace was moving to Yosemite at the age of nineteen and living and working in the park for five years. I used to call it the granite womb, but the beauty birthed a survivor. In some ways that is all we can ever be, survivors.
This is so beautiful, Vincent. Yosemite is one of my favorite places on earth and “the granite womb” is so perfect. I think you are right, and that certainly seems true now - maybe all we can ever be are survivors. Here’s to us, weathering another storm. Hugs and love to you, thank you for being here.
Now I am a 73 year old man, single, two dogs and a cat, an observatory with two telescopes. I take pictures of galaxies and nebulae, and ponder this gift called life. In the context of the universe we are mere dust on a rock hurting through space, living in an Airstream (my spaceship) and reviewing my past in seemingly infinite detail.
When we realize our insignificance one wonders why we exist, is there something after this? Are we better in that next experience. Do we take the accreted wisdom of this life into a more positive future? One can only hope.
I have a few pictures on Substack, @Oscarand Felix.
These are the kinds of questions I think about as well. That’s about the only thing that gives me any sense of comfort - the reality that we really have no idea what’s going on or what we’re doing here or what might happen after this. It certainly feels absurd at the moment. It would be totally laughable if I knew for sure it would be okay and we’d end up as stars laughing our asses off in the cosmos or something. Just pure joy lighting up the sky with all our most treasured people. But we don’t get to know, and right now I feel the weight of worry for my children. It’s very hard to shake. I’m going to go check out your pictures ✨✨✨
“There’s a part of me that feels terrible sharing this with you, like I’m betraying her from beyond the grave. I want to rush to tell you she loved me, she had trauma, she was twenty-four when she had me, she didn’t mean it. I don’t want you to think badly of her. She had a lot of incredible qualities.”
Both things can be true. This simple concept, which I first heard from Colette Baron, Reid helped me immensely.
My mom was sweet, caring, and kind; all of my cousins went to her for these qualities. She was also cutting, critical, and cruel to me, not always, but often enough that my stomach would clench on my way to visit her, not knowing when the painful wounds would be cracked open by careless words.
Both things can be true.
Thank you for sharing your experiences and wisdom. I appreciate you.
Yes. Thank you for this, I appreciate it. It’s so unfortunate how many people seem to have lost the capacity for nuance and messiness and the potential for more than one thing to be true at the same time. Thank you for being here, Patricia❤️🩹
That first section...woof. I felt every word of it, becuase I've lived it. It makes me sad to think of our little girl selves, walking with all of THAT on our shoulders.
NYC note though -- that is a LONG ASS WALK to do twice a day! And the way back? Those hills!
Haha. Uphill through the snow without shoes. I did take public transportation sometimes, but as you know that often had its own downsides. I really miss walking everywhere. I live in Santa Monica, so I do walk a lot, but it is not the same. I wish I could walk us all into some mashup of Lilith Fair and cabins where we could all retreat when we needed quiet because we aren’t kids anymore.
Why did all the angry frat boys win this round? Fuck. Hugs, Kari.
Phenomenal essay, Ally. This gave me goosebumps, because of how much I relate: “It’s not about considering the other person’s “point of view.” My mother was an alcoholic, that wasn’t my opinion, that was a painful reality. Her unwillingness to address it, talk about it, and get some help were the things that made me keep my distance. It was the only way to keep myself safe.”
Then I realized it’s also the pivot point and the metaphor for the essay, and my goosebumps got goosebumps. Thank you for your principles and your courage.
Thank you for making me feel incredibly understood. I appreciate it so much, especially right now. Hugs and love to you, and to all of us who are feeling despair. I guess this is the part where we hold onto each other a little tighter. Xo
I wish I could send this to my mother and have a conversation about it. But as you mentioned, refusing to take responsibility for your actions ends the ability to feel safe in a relationship. It’s hard to grieve someone who is still alive.
It’s so painful. I grieved my mother for years and mourned the relationship we weren’t having, I got one month of how it could have been, and I’ve been mourning her ever since. I couldn’t have tried any harder, I know that. There’s only so much you can do. I’m still in a relationship with her now, though, and I didn’t know I would be. Death doesn’t end it. Just wish I had more than a month where things were good. Sending you a ton of love, Eileen.
It makes me angry that so many children walk on eggshells. I did, too. It's so fucking sad. And here I am, appalled by the bullies in DC who remind me of my parents, and my sister voted for them over and over again. I don't understand any of it. But I love you and I love how you help us make sense of our own feelings, if not the world. x
The saddest thing of all is that I know underneath ALL of this - the absolute despair we’re feeling and the cruelty we’re seeing everywhere - is fear. I know, I know, believe me I know - it could be so much better and letting your fear become this bitter rage that makes you want to hurt people is the worst way to go, but we let too many people slip through the cracks. Not us personally but the people we’ve put in power on all the sides and now everything is fucked. They have us screaming at each other. And the people who hurt kids were probably hurt and can’t cope and that doesn’t make it okay. Ever. I guess I am just here putting my kid’s first apartment together after somehow helping him get his first car and trying to do all the things to get him off to a good start and how the fuck can anyone even do that for their kid at this point?? I’ve sweat my ass off putting furniture together and lugging stuff up and down stairs and trying not to show my kids how scared I am and I want us to somehow stop screaming at each other and start screaming at the people in power and I don’t know how to make it happen. I can’t even get some of my friends to listen. So I don’t know Wendy. Sorry for my outpouring. Back to putting an apartment together because it’s something I can do. This wasn’t a well thought out dream of consciousness but I trust you’re going to understand me. Sending you a ton of love.
I agree that fear is at the base of it. And I know you know, (you said it) but people are still responsible for what they do with that. I know not everyone has clarity or coping skills. But fuck. It isn't just the people in power. THEY installed those people. And the contrariness? They've been fighting us all along just for the sake of fighting. Because they felt small. And because most people, when they take a swing at someone, choose the ones closest to them. Don't be sorry for pouring out your heart. I hope the apartment settling is fun, or at least, satisfying in the end. xxx
I wrote a whole thing and accidentally deleted it but yes. Of course I agree. The hypocrisy kills me, the gaslighting, the lack of accountability, all of it. It’s exhausting and demoralizing. But we did build a bed today and a set of shelves for the closet. And we found a coffee table. Hopefully we’ll find a desk before I leave tomorrow. I’m going to try not to cry in front of my kid when I leave. I’ll probably fail. Anyway, I adore you. So much. Hugs.
Your posts reach so deeply into your heart. That you bravely share your heart with us - so gracious!
Growing up in painful situations and believing in the power of goodness even when times are dark, when the ugliest of human behavior seems acceptable & is lauded takes strength.
I appreciate what you are sharing. I don’t know how we will all get through this, but I suspect if we see each other & stay strong we will at least have one another.
A teacher told be to remember to keeping looking towards where you want to go—the body will follow. (A skating teacher/frivolous lessons! But the idea—keep our eyes, hearts focused on where we want to go!) We started that journey in this country—we made progress, not enough, but enough to know where we want to go—hang in there!
Love your posts! Yeah, those childhood & ancestral traumas…hurt so much…for some, the sensitivity that is born from that makes life so painful yet when you meet a kindered soul there is comfort in knowing we are NOT alone.
Thank you for this, Kathleen. I think the things most of us want are pretty simple - love, laughter, good health, safety, some things to look forward to, work that feels fulfilling. Clean air, clean water. Hugs. The ability to wake up and not feel dread about what your government is going to do next. Poetry, music, time to look up at the stars, maybe hold someone’s hand. Be lucky enough to have a great dog who trusts you. Kids who want to spend time with you. The knowledge that your friends are okay, your family is okay. I dunno. I realize I included some bonus things in there, but none of this seems like a lot to ask. So I am keeping that vision in my head and I will do everything possible to keep moving in that direction. I hope we can all move in that direction together and keep each other safe and hang on until this painful chapter is in the rearview mirror and we can look at each other and say - can you believe we lived through that?? And look at us now 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼💞 Thank you for being here.
I've been traveling, Ally, and to keep my inbox sane I deleted a number of essays I'd usually make time to read. I'm so glad I didn't let go of this one.
I want to give you a hug for -- all the things. I want to bring your mother back to try again. I want to give four year old you the love you deserved. I want to rage at cultural hypocrisy. I want to rout it out in myself, because despite my best intentions, I know I still have pockets of it. I want to offer tenderness to every kid who's ever lived through trauma, even the ones who grow up to inflict more trauma. And I see myself caught in my own crosshairs there. I want to thank you for going on, for your bravery and your clear-eyed reminder that context matters. This was beautifully done.
This made me cry. Thank you so much, Elizabeth. I have all the love in the world for all of us and for our moms who weren’t up to the task and just for everyone who’s hurting right now. It’s all too much. But your words went right to my heart and I appreciate you so, so much. Huge hugs and lots of love ❤️
Your post (essay or piece of art seems more apropos) is beautiful, complex, a little heart breaking, but necessary. You are not divisive; you write about truths that may make people feel uncomfortable, but only because they are not willing to look within and move past clever single sentence reactions or memes. This world is better because of the intelligence, care, compassion, and appropriate outrage you express.
Thank you so much, Chris. It’s such a strange and sad time. I know there are a lot of people feeling hurt and angry and they’re lashing out.
It’s exhausting and heartbreaking but hopefully we’ll find our way through this and figure out a way to move toward something sane and sustainable. This is not it. Sending you lots of love, thank you for being here.
I’m so very sad for all the children in this world who grow up like this. It’s heartbreaking. I’m 61 and I grew up with similar experiences re alcoholism and abuse and several more Adverse Childhood Experiences and by the time I was 17. Mental illness and addicted caregivers is just one ACE. Abuse and neglect another. Abandonment another. On and on.
I’ve lived a full and colorful life with joy and pain both (pain stemming from choices impacted by that childhood trauma) and have worked tirelessly on my mental and physical health in trying to heal from my ACEs. The neurological imprints they leave behind are deep and impact our health and wellness all our lives and oftentimes until death.
Goodbyes and rejection (career and personal) are still met with severe panic and anxiety for me. Still. Begging for attention and making deals with an abusive significant other who uses the silent treatment or verbal abuse and for weeks on end is still a practice of mine. Shamefully so.
Again — I am so very sorry for your pain. And thank you for this essay. I feel seen.
On a side note you may want to look into Bessel Vanderkolk’s work and Gabor Mate and in understanding early childhood trauma and all that.
Hi Tricia. I’m both grateful and so sorry you feel seen if you know what I mean, which I know you do. Huge hugs to you and to all of us who make it through these experiences and still believe in the goodness of strangers and the goodness in the world.
I’m familiar with Gabor Mate and Bessel Van der Kolk - The Body Keeps the Score is one of my most ear-marked and underlined books :)
I wish I could give you a big hug. I am sad that you’re feeling shame about accepting treatment far below what you deserve. You know how it is, it’s such a vicious cycle.
The shame erodes your sense that you deserve more and better - and it keeps you in the loop.
Maybe just trust that you’ll stop tolerating that treatment when you are ready and able, and in the meantime it’s not a reflection on you if someone is icing you out. It’s a reflection on them.
The part that’s yours is simply that some part of you still thinks you don’t deserve more. So maybe just be kind to that part of you. It’s probably the part of you who is still a hurt and confused little kid. She might just need a little love. I’m very glad you’re here. Xo
I can curse the abusive hands that hurt, and drop to my knees in gratitude for the beauty they created. And I can wish with every fiber of my being that the immense gift of you didn’t have to be forged so brutally. I’m grateful for all of you. xo
I’m grateful for all of you, too, Kate. I hate what’s happening in our country and I hate how scared and uncertain we are about how we’re supposed to respond in the face of so much cruelty and chaos. But at least seventeen times a week I think about how grateful I am to know you. May we somehow make it through this and find ourselves in calmer, safer and greener pastures. Hugs and love to you and Riggs❤️🩹
your young experiences rang a bell for me (actually many bells). I was the eldest son, and I absorbed a lot of the alcohol fueled anger until I finally left home at the age of thirteen. My saving grace was moving to Yosemite at the age of nineteen and living and working in the park for five years. I used to call it the granite womb, but the beauty birthed a survivor. In some ways that is all we can ever be, survivors.
This is so beautiful, Vincent. Yosemite is one of my favorite places on earth and “the granite womb” is so perfect. I think you are right, and that certainly seems true now - maybe all we can ever be are survivors. Here’s to us, weathering another storm. Hugs and love to you, thank you for being here.
Now I am a 73 year old man, single, two dogs and a cat, an observatory with two telescopes. I take pictures of galaxies and nebulae, and ponder this gift called life. In the context of the universe we are mere dust on a rock hurting through space, living in an Airstream (my spaceship) and reviewing my past in seemingly infinite detail.
When we realize our insignificance one wonders why we exist, is there something after this? Are we better in that next experience. Do we take the accreted wisdom of this life into a more positive future? One can only hope.
I have a few pictures on Substack, @Oscarand Felix.
These are the kinds of questions I think about as well. That’s about the only thing that gives me any sense of comfort - the reality that we really have no idea what’s going on or what we’re doing here or what might happen after this. It certainly feels absurd at the moment. It would be totally laughable if I knew for sure it would be okay and we’d end up as stars laughing our asses off in the cosmos or something. Just pure joy lighting up the sky with all our most treasured people. But we don’t get to know, and right now I feel the weight of worry for my children. It’s very hard to shake. I’m going to go check out your pictures ✨✨✨
Try @Alluminator
“There’s a part of me that feels terrible sharing this with you, like I’m betraying her from beyond the grave. I want to rush to tell you she loved me, she had trauma, she was twenty-four when she had me, she didn’t mean it. I don’t want you to think badly of her. She had a lot of incredible qualities.”
Both things can be true. This simple concept, which I first heard from Colette Baron, Reid helped me immensely.
My mom was sweet, caring, and kind; all of my cousins went to her for these qualities. She was also cutting, critical, and cruel to me, not always, but often enough that my stomach would clench on my way to visit her, not knowing when the painful wounds would be cracked open by careless words.
Both things can be true.
Thank you for sharing your experiences and wisdom. I appreciate you.
Yes. Thank you for this, I appreciate it. It’s so unfortunate how many people seem to have lost the capacity for nuance and messiness and the potential for more than one thing to be true at the same time. Thank you for being here, Patricia❤️🩹
It is always my pleasure.
That first section...woof. I felt every word of it, becuase I've lived it. It makes me sad to think of our little girl selves, walking with all of THAT on our shoulders.
NYC note though -- that is a LONG ASS WALK to do twice a day! And the way back? Those hills!
Haha. Uphill through the snow without shoes. I did take public transportation sometimes, but as you know that often had its own downsides. I really miss walking everywhere. I live in Santa Monica, so I do walk a lot, but it is not the same. I wish I could walk us all into some mashup of Lilith Fair and cabins where we could all retreat when we needed quiet because we aren’t kids anymore.
Why did all the angry frat boys win this round? Fuck. Hugs, Kari.
Phenomenal essay, Ally. This gave me goosebumps, because of how much I relate: “It’s not about considering the other person’s “point of view.” My mother was an alcoholic, that wasn’t my opinion, that was a painful reality. Her unwillingness to address it, talk about it, and get some help were the things that made me keep my distance. It was the only way to keep myself safe.”
Then I realized it’s also the pivot point and the metaphor for the essay, and my goosebumps got goosebumps. Thank you for your principles and your courage.
Thank you for making me feel incredibly understood. I appreciate it so much, especially right now. Hugs and love to you, and to all of us who are feeling despair. I guess this is the part where we hold onto each other a little tighter. Xo
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Utterly magnificent. 🙏🏻
I hope you know this made me cry. Thank you so much, Elissa.
❤️
I wish I could send this to my mother and have a conversation about it. But as you mentioned, refusing to take responsibility for your actions ends the ability to feel safe in a relationship. It’s hard to grieve someone who is still alive.
It’s so painful. I grieved my mother for years and mourned the relationship we weren’t having, I got one month of how it could have been, and I’ve been mourning her ever since. I couldn’t have tried any harder, I know that. There’s only so much you can do. I’m still in a relationship with her now, though, and I didn’t know I would be. Death doesn’t end it. Just wish I had more than a month where things were good. Sending you a ton of love, Eileen.
It makes me angry that so many children walk on eggshells. I did, too. It's so fucking sad. And here I am, appalled by the bullies in DC who remind me of my parents, and my sister voted for them over and over again. I don't understand any of it. But I love you and I love how you help us make sense of our own feelings, if not the world. x
The saddest thing of all is that I know underneath ALL of this - the absolute despair we’re feeling and the cruelty we’re seeing everywhere - is fear. I know, I know, believe me I know - it could be so much better and letting your fear become this bitter rage that makes you want to hurt people is the worst way to go, but we let too many people slip through the cracks. Not us personally but the people we’ve put in power on all the sides and now everything is fucked. They have us screaming at each other. And the people who hurt kids were probably hurt and can’t cope and that doesn’t make it okay. Ever. I guess I am just here putting my kid’s first apartment together after somehow helping him get his first car and trying to do all the things to get him off to a good start and how the fuck can anyone even do that for their kid at this point?? I’ve sweat my ass off putting furniture together and lugging stuff up and down stairs and trying not to show my kids how scared I am and I want us to somehow stop screaming at each other and start screaming at the people in power and I don’t know how to make it happen. I can’t even get some of my friends to listen. So I don’t know Wendy. Sorry for my outpouring. Back to putting an apartment together because it’s something I can do. This wasn’t a well thought out dream of consciousness but I trust you’re going to understand me. Sending you a ton of love.
I agree that fear is at the base of it. And I know you know, (you said it) but people are still responsible for what they do with that. I know not everyone has clarity or coping skills. But fuck. It isn't just the people in power. THEY installed those people. And the contrariness? They've been fighting us all along just for the sake of fighting. Because they felt small. And because most people, when they take a swing at someone, choose the ones closest to them. Don't be sorry for pouring out your heart. I hope the apartment settling is fun, or at least, satisfying in the end. xxx
I wrote a whole thing and accidentally deleted it but yes. Of course I agree. The hypocrisy kills me, the gaslighting, the lack of accountability, all of it. It’s exhausting and demoralizing. But we did build a bed today and a set of shelves for the closet. And we found a coffee table. Hopefully we’ll find a desk before I leave tomorrow. I’m going to try not to cry in front of my kid when I leave. I’ll probably fail. Anyway, I adore you. So much. Hugs.
You built a bunch of things. That seems like a good metaphor. And he probably fully expects you to cry. And that's not a bad thing. ❤️
Your posts reach so deeply into your heart. That you bravely share your heart with us - so gracious!
Growing up in painful situations and believing in the power of goodness even when times are dark, when the ugliest of human behavior seems acceptable & is lauded takes strength.
I appreciate what you are sharing. I don’t know how we will all get through this, but I suspect if we see each other & stay strong we will at least have one another.
A teacher told be to remember to keeping looking towards where you want to go—the body will follow. (A skating teacher/frivolous lessons! But the idea—keep our eyes, hearts focused on where we want to go!) We started that journey in this country—we made progress, not enough, but enough to know where we want to go—hang in there!
Love your posts! Yeah, those childhood & ancestral traumas…hurt so much…for some, the sensitivity that is born from that makes life so painful yet when you meet a kindered soul there is comfort in knowing we are NOT alone.
Thank you for this, Kathleen. I think the things most of us want are pretty simple - love, laughter, good health, safety, some things to look forward to, work that feels fulfilling. Clean air, clean water. Hugs. The ability to wake up and not feel dread about what your government is going to do next. Poetry, music, time to look up at the stars, maybe hold someone’s hand. Be lucky enough to have a great dog who trusts you. Kids who want to spend time with you. The knowledge that your friends are okay, your family is okay. I dunno. I realize I included some bonus things in there, but none of this seems like a lot to ask. So I am keeping that vision in my head and I will do everything possible to keep moving in that direction. I hope we can all move in that direction together and keep each other safe and hang on until this painful chapter is in the rearview mirror and we can look at each other and say - can you believe we lived through that?? And look at us now 🙏🏼🙏🏼🙏🏼💞 Thank you for being here.
I've been traveling, Ally, and to keep my inbox sane I deleted a number of essays I'd usually make time to read. I'm so glad I didn't let go of this one.
I want to give you a hug for -- all the things. I want to bring your mother back to try again. I want to give four year old you the love you deserved. I want to rage at cultural hypocrisy. I want to rout it out in myself, because despite my best intentions, I know I still have pockets of it. I want to offer tenderness to every kid who's ever lived through trauma, even the ones who grow up to inflict more trauma. And I see myself caught in my own crosshairs there. I want to thank you for going on, for your bravery and your clear-eyed reminder that context matters. This was beautifully done.
This made me cry. Thank you so much, Elizabeth. I have all the love in the world for all of us and for our moms who weren’t up to the task and just for everyone who’s hurting right now. It’s all too much. But your words went right to my heart and I appreciate you so, so much. Huge hugs and lots of love ❤️
🥰
Great insights, terrible harm, holding you in great mothers arms
Choices are never made in a vacuum
💙
Thank you so much, Prajna💙🙏🏼
Your post (essay or piece of art seems more apropos) is beautiful, complex, a little heart breaking, but necessary. You are not divisive; you write about truths that may make people feel uncomfortable, but only because they are not willing to look within and move past clever single sentence reactions or memes. This world is better because of the intelligence, care, compassion, and appropriate outrage you express.
Thank you so much, Chris. It’s such a strange and sad time. I know there are a lot of people feeling hurt and angry and they’re lashing out.
It’s exhausting and heartbreaking but hopefully we’ll find our way through this and figure out a way to move toward something sane and sustainable. This is not it. Sending you lots of love, thank you for being here.
I’m so very sad for all the children in this world who grow up like this. It’s heartbreaking. I’m 61 and I grew up with similar experiences re alcoholism and abuse and several more Adverse Childhood Experiences and by the time I was 17. Mental illness and addicted caregivers is just one ACE. Abuse and neglect another. Abandonment another. On and on.
I’ve lived a full and colorful life with joy and pain both (pain stemming from choices impacted by that childhood trauma) and have worked tirelessly on my mental and physical health in trying to heal from my ACEs. The neurological imprints they leave behind are deep and impact our health and wellness all our lives and oftentimes until death.
Goodbyes and rejection (career and personal) are still met with severe panic and anxiety for me. Still. Begging for attention and making deals with an abusive significant other who uses the silent treatment or verbal abuse and for weeks on end is still a practice of mine. Shamefully so.
Again — I am so very sorry for your pain. And thank you for this essay. I feel seen.
On a side note you may want to look into Bessel Vanderkolk’s work and Gabor Mate and in understanding early childhood trauma and all that.
Peace.
Hi Tricia. I’m both grateful and so sorry you feel seen if you know what I mean, which I know you do. Huge hugs to you and to all of us who make it through these experiences and still believe in the goodness of strangers and the goodness in the world.
I’m familiar with Gabor Mate and Bessel Van der Kolk - The Body Keeps the Score is one of my most ear-marked and underlined books :)
I wish I could give you a big hug. I am sad that you’re feeling shame about accepting treatment far below what you deserve. You know how it is, it’s such a vicious cycle.
The shame erodes your sense that you deserve more and better - and it keeps you in the loop.
Maybe just trust that you’ll stop tolerating that treatment when you are ready and able, and in the meantime it’s not a reflection on you if someone is icing you out. It’s a reflection on them.
The part that’s yours is simply that some part of you still thinks you don’t deserve more. So maybe just be kind to that part of you. It’s probably the part of you who is still a hurt and confused little kid. She might just need a little love. I’m very glad you’re here. Xo
Sjoe! Feeling you, deeply. Thanks for sharing so openly and with emotive vulnerability 🙏 💜
Thank you for being here to read it ❤️🩹🥹