When Love turns to Poison
/I do not speak to either of my parents at the moment. I have cut all contact with them.
With my dad, it has been a few years. With my mother, I made that decision last year.
These were really hard decisions to make. But ultimately, my survival was at stake. The survival of my soul, of hope, of love, of my inner child. The survival of my essence.
For many years, I have received and given conditional love. It is what I experienced, it is what I learnt. And I’m going to take a guess and say that my mother and father also experienced this and it was all they knew to give me. The same for their parents and parents of their parents and so on.
I was reminded of the words in that lyric that says ‘love will tear us apart’ and I wanted to add ‘conditional love will tear us apart’. Because that is what happened with the love I experienced from my parents.
To them, my choice will feel hurtful and possibly unfair.
You see, I am absolutely sure of their love. I know they love me. But I also know that between their love for me and what I actually experience there is a lot of their unseen shit. What I get, is a distorted love, it is a poisoned love.
They believe that words like: ‘I’m so worried with your weight!’, ‘You should go and see a head doctor/psychiatrist, because you are fat/you have resigned from a financially secure job’ and many variations on this, are loving. They believe that these words are harmless and only show concern and love for me. They are worried about me! How can that not be love!!
In the past, as I stepped away from the everlasting gaslighting of my youth, I started trying to explain to them why those words did not feel loving to me. I explained this way. I explained that way. I explained some more and I was met with the same words, the same poisonous love in different words and guises.
I guess I was hopeful they would change. I was hopeful that I would be able to explain myself in such way that they would understand and change the way they acted towards me. Yet, it felt like I was explaining it all in a foreign language and they were not able to grasp it.
The best way I have of explaining what it feels to me is by using the analogy of a bamboo plant. Maybe because I aim to one day be like bamboo. Incredibly strong but also flexible. Bending but not breaking.
I am a healthy bamboo plant, I mean, as healthy as possible. I am learning, stretching, trying to grow in different directions, growing of my own accord and exploring my own rules. When my parents say those things that they believe are loving, all I feel is a slashing away of my branches. It does not feel loving, it feels cutting. It cuts my growth. It makes me self doubt, shrink myself and stay small, when my natural impulse is simply to grow and expand into the world.
As I have chosen a very different path in my life from the one my parents, their parents and their parents’ parents. As I distance myself from what is the ‘custom’ in my family, the more challenging my life gets.
I have felt that my whole life, I have spent it shrinking my growth, hiding, staying small and unnoticed, to conform and for the comfort of those around me, in particular my family. There have been a few stretches here and there and if they are within what my family feels is right, then I have been given encouragement and was rewarded.
Yes, you can grow Pelagia, as long as it conforms to our idea of the ‘right’ way for you to grow.
So, my bamboo plant grew in all sorts of different directions but they never felt right. And it had an odd shape.
As I have embraced a different way of living and being, the ‘cuts’ from my parents felt deeper, more radical and wounding.
I got tired of having to tend to the cuts and wounds left by each conversation and encounter with my parents.
One day, my own survival and well being became the most important thing to me. I come first. My needs come first.
And for me to come first, I had to make those difficult decisions.
I want to rebel. I want to be different and embrace being different. I want to explore and expand with ambition and audacity. I want to explore growing in all directions.
I wonder what loving love feels like. I play and experiment with my own definition of unconditional love. I explore through reading other people’s words and sharing of their experiences. I distil all that I read, sense, hear, see about love and I create piece by piece my own definition of love.
I look forward to actually experiencing and putting into practice this definition in a relationship.
And for now, I keep my distance from my parents. I learn how to grow by myself, how to grow independent of their judgements and ideas, how to detach myself from these. I feel freer but understand that there are many layers to peel through.
I hope, that at some point of my journey, my bamboo plant grows so strong, high and resilient that the words of my parents no longer have any effect on it/me and that I get to make peace with them. That their poison no longer feels like poison and that I can see and feel their love beyond their wounding.
For now, I continue with my exploration.
Sometimes feeling alone.
Sometimes feeling isolated.
Sometimes feeling without a family.
But still sensing the truth of my direction. Determined to pursue it.
With love,
Pelagia
Pelagia Pais is still figuring out what to call herself and her offer to the world. She is an Intuitive, a Coach, a Healer, a Writer, an Artist and so much more of what lies in between. For now you can read more of what she experiences and shares in her blog ‘It’s not all happiness and coconuts’ (www.pelagiapais.com/blog).
If you are looking for a morning routine to help you ground your energy in yourself, be more present and start the day feeling calm and centred, check her Morning Star Practice - A Standing Guided Meditation here: www.pelagiapais.com/shop. The practice is available in different prices that suit all pockets and is a form of contributing to her work and continued offerings.