Dear
Karin,
I felt a bond when you mentioned that you too had to learn to trust.
That had been for me a basis of my internal dilemma stemmed from childhood
and familial anomalies. It has been quite a trek and have only
in the past 4 years finally come to terms with it.
I
am approaching 50 April 4th. I am the youngest child of 4 girls.
My parents are Italian immigrants. My two eldest sisters were born in
Italy, followed by the birth of another sibling and myself in Chicago.
My dad is a conservative minister. Growing up in Chicago was wrought
with restrictions and expectations of setting an example for a congregation,
conflicted with a dad that was promiscuous yet revered by a community.
Mom was strong, devoted, helpless to the infidelity, dad was loving but detached,
elder sisters didn't want to rock the boat. I was daddy's little girl
up until 9 when I realized his unfaithfulness and hypocrisy hence I became
the turbulent rebel.
On
one hand mom and I became thick as thieves constantly investigating for clues
of infidelity coupled by my frustration and misunderstanding as to why she'd
tolerate him causing schisms in the fabric of my views of her strengths vs.
weakness. I announced at 11 or 12 that I would leave home on my 18th
birthday and on that day I did at the exact moment of turning 18 depart.
I've lived alone most of my life, I've been married twice. I married
a childhood American friend at 18 years of age, 10 days after I left home.
Realizing within a month I had made a grave error, I knew returning
home was not an option for I'd be I'd be quarantined indefinitely. I
stuck it out for 2 1/2 years. Afterwards, I put myself through
school, began counseling in college to deal with my issues, lost my mother
to an automobile accident, had many relationships, while periodically attempting
to get ownership from dad that he affected our lives through his behavior.
Never did I get this validation. So I festered with anger, and distrust,
convinced I needed no one, yet hungering for more.
Two
months prior to my 40th birthday I married again, a man 7 years younger.
I was an open book, thinking that if I revealed all my hurts and was honest
I would be safe. Well, he had his familial baggage too, was non confrontational,
had difficulty communicating, so slowly he shut down on me. Premarital,
as well as ongoing counseling was constant, believing that we were making
progress. However, coupled with my sister's diagnosis of Colon Cancer
and attempts to have a family was too much to bear on our relationship so
one day I was married and the next day I was not. I went through a year
of separation and divorce coupled with the slow death of my sister, care taking
and hanging on to my psyche with every last fiber I could muster. My
family was a mess, I somehow took on the role of the medical interpreter,
care taker of my dying sister, and hand holder to my other two siblings and
their spouses. Two months prior to her death I planned our last family gathering. Dad
came in from Italy, he had moved there immediately after mom passed in '80',
I shared with my dying sister many thoughts and emotions about our love and
history, and she implored that I needed to give up my struggle with dad.
She so eloquently defined to me dad's history, his own familial baggage, and
left me with the greatest gift of all. She said, "Ann, he has a
sickness and he can't help the way he was. He didn't do any of the hurtful
things purposely to you or to any of us, he didn't know any better.
His mother died when she gave birth to him, his father also a minister was
in the U.S., so he was raised by his eldest brother who was promiscuous, hence
his role model. His aunt was an angry disinterested woman", and
so the story writes itself.
At
the family gathering I had planned, I observed my dad in awe, now in his early
80's. He no longer was the vibrant, handsome promiscuous minister, but now
the sensitive father about to lose his child. I had invited some neighbors
to the gathering and they brought along their 4 year old daughter. From
across the room I relived the things I loved about dad. This toe
head little girl was drawn to my dark skinned dad, crawled up on his lap, as he
sang a song to her that I hadn't heard from childhood. I was transfixed,
my heart swelled with love, the angry beast within me had been disarmed.
After her death, I turned into myself, I went no where, I couldn't be around
the world, except for my responsibilities of my jobs as a flight attendant,
and a dental hygienist, I engaged myself into healing through my avid gardening,
my new home, which is my haven, and my insatiable thirst for understanding
and introspection via reading every book I could get my hands on
and meditation. These were my healing balms. In the meantime two
of my closest friends lost their husbands and brothers, and magically I was
compelled to help them. I knew their pain, confusion, anger. I knew
what worked for me, so I shared every bit of info I had. Slowly we
healed together. I am blessed for having gone through all that for it
opened up a part of me that I didn't even know was there.
So
along came Tony in May of 2001, my divorce was '98, my sister died
in '99. We became fast friends, I recognized his plight and once again
I felt compelled to help him. I was drawn to his sensitivity, his
hurt, his desire to understand and heal. I felt it was my obligation
to help this soul and in doing so I knew I was continuing to heal and
grow myself. I listened to countless struggles. I offered up avenues
for achieving peace. I recommended books, meditation tapes, chakra exercises.
I assured him he was okay to feel what he was feeling that anger, disillusionment,
confusion, pain, betrayal were all normal emotions to feel and that one day
he'd see the glimmer of hope spring eternal and be stronger for having been
through it. He didn't believe me for the longest time. Daily,
over months and for the past 2 years we repeated the exercise. Up until
recently I expected nothing back from him, but when I sensed he was starting
to get the wind back in his sails, I acknowledged within myself that my work
was done or I'd risk observing him moving on with his life and possibly engaging
in a relationship. Obviously I had grown to like him more than
the teacher should so I announced that my work was done. I had
always made it clear that I made for a solid friend and my history proves
that, but I needed clarification now as to what role I was to play.
To my surprise, he wanted more, and since then I no longer am the teacher,
but we are each others teacher and companions. Early in our relationship I
told him that I felt he was the male version of me. Never again was
that brought up until recently. Today he agrees that there is truth
to that statement.
So this is my story of trust and how I met Tony. I am in no hurry to
fast forward our development, the pace is more than comfortable, i.e., I imagine
his divorce will take some time like your situation.
-----Ann,
2003 (upon the request of the author, names and places have been changed)
Copyright © 2003-2007 Website (Karin Janin). All Rights Reserved.
P.O. Box 607 • Highland, NY 12528 •
845-236-2557
Now known as "Horses Of Wisdom Inspirations
