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Trauma: Having courage to face it when you have no choice


It took me awhile to write this post. I knew it had to be done but I was honestly in fear of the  judgement that can be accompanied by such truths as I will lay before you today. People tend to judge before they actually take the time to truly understand a situation.  The idea that I had a child young outsiders think I was fast and loose, although I was experiencing adult activities, in no way did I go looking for what eventually happened to me. Most of what I am writing here are things I've only uttered to my best friend and have kept to myself for many years. As I’ve grown into an adult, I’ve learned that transparency is key. I make all attempts to be as transparent as possible. My friends know me as being transparent and that's one thing that they love about me. Even as a teen mom I realized it was best for me to be honest with my son about life matters. I try my best to be transparent with him. Do I keep some things to myself, yes, will I tell him eventually, yes, but all things come with time. It wasn't until adulthood that I came to realize that my past Traumas, had such a negative impact on me socially. Trauma is not something that is openly discussed in my culture or family.  I think trauma isn't something as openly discussed in most cultures. Trauma is something that travels with you and become rooted in your soul. It becomes so deeply rooted that it manifests itself like a generational curse. 

In writing this post I want to be as transparent as possible, with my own trauma(s) that I've experienced from the age of 14 on. Some of the traumas took me years to get over. Some of it I blamed myself for and was very angry about it for a long time. My anger would manifest at times when dealing with my son, when he was smaller. I did not understand the level of patience needed to be a mother to a toddler. When he was 1 I was 15, managing my own emotions were a struggle, so image dealing with an active 1 year old. I was STRESSED, and there was nothing I could do about it. Yes, my mother was there, but there were levels of frustrations that she couldn't help me through. I still struggled with forgiving myself for making bad decisions for a long time. My desire in writing this post, with my transparency is that someone reading it will understand you can need to make time to fix you! Trauma takes a toll on you. Sometimes you don't realize how bad it is until you find yourself in a situation that shocks you into PTSD. It wasn't until my son was older and I was on the verge of becoming an empty nester that I realized that I had to deal with a lot of my own inner demons, and trauma before I can actually have the healthy relationships that I so desperately sought after. 

I'm just blessed that my son did not inherit the foolery that I didn't realize was so far embedded in me. He's able to have healthy relationships. I feel bad at times that I was not able to give him the proper guidance. It's not easy being a teen mother and feeling like the world is on your shoulders or like the world is against you. The first deeply engrained trauma I can vividly remember and will never forget was in September 2000, when I found out I was pregnant.Was I ready to be a mother? Hell no! Did I plan to be a mother? Nope. I wasn't even ready to start high school.  What made the situation so traumatizing for me, is the night my parents found out who my son's father really was. My brother and father were in a rage, and rightfully so. They told me to get in the car and show them where my sons father lived. Scared wasn't even the word to describe how I felt that night. No words could describe the anxiety level, it  was astronomical. The older man who is my son's father was about 25 years old at the time. When we rang the doorbell, his father came to the door. He was confused. He eventually came to the door, my father expressed to him that I was pregnant. 

Brace yourself, it gets worse. The man, whom I was pregnant by, looked at me, looked at my father and bother then parted his lips and uttered that words that crumbled my world, "I don't know her, that's not my baby. I don't know what you're talking about."  I remember how confused I was that he would even say that. Young and naive I did not know the world could be so brash. That was beyond hurtful. Not just for me, I know it was hurtful for my father to hear because he had to hear the man that impregnated his 14 year old daughter say, that he doesn't know her.  My family was furious with me. They had all right to be, I made a foolish decision.  I carried that embarrassment alone. I had no one to talk to, so I kept it to myself.  I endured the embarrassment of that night for years. I felt like I had let my family down. What made this more gut wrenching was that less than a year later, by way of paternity test, it was proven that he was the father of my son.  

I chose this story in-particular because it started a long chain of events that kept lending to my trauma and changing who I was. There was a sense of rejection that lingered for years and spilled over into my self-esteem, my friendships and even my later relationships. somehow, I was able to keep my sanity and raise an amazing young man. Wait, I know how it happened, prayer! (and a praying mother). No one knew because I hid how I felt well. I didn't complain and took care of my son the best I knew how. Although, I didn't get the release and change I needed until later in life, prayer always kept me going. So, to get to my point, when you've experienced trauma, get the help you need now. We burry our traumas as mothers and neglect them until we have finished raising our children. One thing I would do different is, I would have tired to put myself in a position to get the help I needed sooner. 

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