The Cloak of Secrecy
A few score years ago I began on a journey that would change the face of my dreams into nightmares, but the pain began many years before that. The pattern began many years before that. The pattern was already part of my soul and commandeered my choices before I could think.
The pattern was set in stone when I was a child. The pattern was cut when I became jealous of my father’s attention to my older sister. The pattern was etched in me like something engraved in my soul because when it happened to me I was secretly filled with joy and satisfaction. The pattern that was used to cut the robes of my childhood told the world I was worthy of “love” and daddy’s attention.
The pattern created in my childhood was used to cut the robes of my adolescence where I started to find that I did not fit in anywhere. I couldn’t make friends that didn’t hurt me. I couldn’t seem to do the things that everyone else my age was doing. I was already older. I was already ancient. The pattern that was used didn’t ever fit me, but I was made to wear it every day. I wrapped it around my shoulders, but it never kept me warm. I used it to cover me, but I was always naked. I was always vulnerable and subject to ridicule. No one else I knew had to wear the clothes cut from that pattern.
What I didn’t know was that the pattern that was set when I was a child would always be there to make decisions for me. The pattern would be used to choose my husband for me. It would ensure that I would choose someone to punish me. It would send me down a path where I would be beaten. The path would meander through broken bones, bloody footprints, shattered glass and abandonment. The path would lead me through self-destructive behaviors: Drug abuse, alcoholism, attempted suicide. I was Driving down dangerous roads..looking for them; seeking them out.
The pattern continued till I noticed that my boys were repeating the pattern and my daughter was their victim. That was when I said enough. I broke the mold. I set myself free. I became an example to my children that our pattern was not normal. I showed them that other people wear different garments and I showed them that we could create a new pattern. We could design and wear a new outfit cut from a different cloth. And we did.