This Is Why I Can Love My Abusers

Like countless others on the planet, I grew up in a frightening, hostile environment. I was always waiting for the next attack and — well, let’s just say it has left an indelible mark on me.

However, don’t let that statement mislead you. It has left an indelible mark but do not assume that this is in a negative way.

You might have read some of my articles on this topic, or more specifically, about my parents and brother. They were the main players in my life throughout those years, although there were others who had an impact, too, not always a good one.

I’ve been writing about these experiences (and will continue to do so) not because it is cathartic (I’ve had plenty of healing over many years and do not need catharsis). It’s not because I feel like a victim (perish the thought!). And it’s not because I need healing or validation or anything similar.

I’ve been writing about these powerful and painful aspects of my past in an effort to reach those who are still “in it,” people who are still suffering because of the abuse they endured, or who are just beginning to peel back the layers and understand the truth of what happened to them and how it has impacted their lives.

I’ve been writing about these experiences to say, “You’re not alone,” and to promise others that they can get through it, too. I’m writing to remind them of their resilience and the strength and courage that they have to move forward, even if they don’t feel it right now.

I’ve been writing to assure them that they can — and will — get through to the other side of this, and to offer the new light of hope for a brighter future.

I need to make something abundantly clear.

After a decades-long journey of healing in professional settings as well as on my own, plus pursuing a deeply spiritual path, I have no ill feelings toward any of the adults who were abusive toward me in childhood. They’re all dead now anyway (although as a medium, I use the term, “dead,” loosely).

From a psychological standpoint, I understand that they had their own emotional wounds and challenges, and that this was the reason for their actions.

Does that make it okay that they subjected me to their abuse?

Of course not. But it does explain why it happened. I accept that they were doing the best they could with what they had at the time, just like I’m doing, and just like you are, too.

And as much as I’d like to think I’ve never hurt anyone, I know that’s not the truth. I’ve certainly done a lot of things I wish I hadn’t…As a parent, as a daughter, a friend, and as a six-times ex-wife, there are plenty of awful moments that I wish desperately could be undone.

And of course, they can’t. I have to live with the choices I made and the hurt I’ve caused. For the most part, I’ve let go of all of that. But there are some spectacularly awful moments for which I’m not sure I will ever forgive myself, even though I know that is out of alignment with everything I believe.

So who am I to judge anyone else for their actions?

Who am I to point the finger of blame and say how terrible others are for the hurt they caused when I’ve caused plenty myself?

Further to all of that, I understand that when I was a kid, no one was talking about abuse or the damage caused by saying or doing certain things to your children. No one was talking about self-love or self-esteem and harming little psyches by spewing tempers or hurling insults or ignoring the emotional needs of a child.

There was no Dr. Phil. There was no Oprah. There was no Deepak Chopra.

It was a different time.

And even now, in these days of child protection laws and these kinds of topics being very much out in the open, abuse still happens. Romantic partners, families, friends — it’s everywhere, yet many turn a blind eye when they suspect someone is being abused, whether adult or child. They “don’t want to get involved.”

When I was a kid, there might have been more abuse due to a lack of information and understanding about what was healthy or at least “acceptable” in parenting. I didn’t know anyone who didn’t get spankings and many got it with wooden spoons, belts or other objects.

At school, principals could give you “the strap” — three hard whacks with a leather strap across the palm of your hand if you were extremely naughty. And if you got it, anyone who knew about it presumed that you damned well deserved it. Including your parents.

Can you imagine that happening in our culture now?

In our society’s ignorance at that time, much of what was “normal” was actually abusive. No one knew any better.

These days, we do. Yet many are willing to look the other way. I think that makes us worse as a society than back when people were spanking their kids and teachers could rap them hard on the knuckles with a wooden pointer.

Anyway…I digress.

The point is that my parents didn’t know better.

And they didn’t protect me from my brother for the same reason. All three of them had their own issues, which brings me to my spiritual perspective on all of this.

Without a more elaboration explanation of my personal beliefs, I will simply say that I choose to see them as having been the best teachers for the lessons I was meant to learn. The experiences I had in that family and because of it have allowed me to stretch and grow. They’ve allowed me to learn more about myself and the world than I could have ever done if I’d come from an “Ozzy and Harriet” life.

It took a lot of time and healing, a lot of patience, compassion and understanding, but I did reach a point where I could honestly say that I loved my parents and my brother. They were human and flawed and did their best. I accept that and I appreciate the gifts I’ve received from my journey of healing.

My adult life was chaotic and turbulent and also painful for many long years because of the emotional damage done to me in childhood. But my life is also richer for everything I’ve experienced and I wouldn’t trade it for the world.

My journey from pain and trauma to hope and healing has enabled me to have more tolerance and compassion for those who are suffering, and to understand that when we’re witnessing “bad behaviour” it’s a manifestation of emotional wounds.

It’s taught me to look past the behaviour and see the wounded soul behind it, and to recognise that there’s a Divine spirit hidden underneath all of it.

Most of all, it’s taught me that we are all human and flawed. We are all capable of inflicting great pain on one another, just as we are all capable of giving deep love and compassion to those who need it.

And no one needs our love and compassion more than ourselves. That’s where we need to begin. Until we can give ourselves these gifts, we will remain broken and wounded.

Which reminds me…I co-wrote and recorded a song called “Broken” (below) with Dave Moffatt, of The Moffatts, a former international “boy band” consisting of four brothers. I did lyrics, he did music, together we tweaked both and sang.

This song is a conversation with God, the Universe, your Higher Self, your Inner Wisdom…that spark of “something” that keeps you striving to be and do the best you can.

Spiritual Arts Mentor and Master Teacher, Liberty Forrest, guides you in discovering who you are, why you’re here, and how to follow that path.