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Reflections of a lovely lady
The passing of two of my best friends have given me much time to reflect the deep impact they had on my life.
I had left school after grade 10, partly because I was being rebellious but mostly because I felt defeated and stupid. I did not return because as it turned out, the income (small as it was at the time) was needed by my mom to keep food on the table. My dad had become seriouly ill and could no longer work.
At the time of my dad's death I had already met my "true" love, was pregnant and so finishing my education he thought quite laughable (but then he was the type to reinforce in me the fact that, "Yes, Margaret you are indeed stupid.") and so I stayed home and waited on him hand and foot while raising our two girls.
Now I mention the above not for sympathy, but to show that when one has low self esteem they allow the bad things to happen to them by others. When we learn and really understand this life concept then we can learn how, and begin to take the steps to reclaim our power.
In my case it was a very long slow process. I first lived through 20 plus years of mental and verbal abuse. I then took another few years to deal with abuse from my childhood which actually turned out to be the catalyst that was to propel me down that arduous road to finding out if I indeed exisited, and if I did who was I and could I actually be loved by anyone including myself?
This is where my very good friends were put into my life. They saw the good in me at all times and kept ponting it out to me by encouraging me to share myself with others; let them read things that I wrote, participate in public speaking when it came to issues that I have a true passion for (equality, zero violence, poverty etc); and finally they "encouraged" me to get involved as a union activist by the use of what they called "loving and kind abuse" LOL(they packed the meeting, nominated me for chairperson, and glared in unison daring me to turn down the nomination)
I was very quickly accpted and encouraged by our provincial office to become involved in the head women's committee and equity committee. After attending workshops and schools I began doing peer counselling with the abused and battered women no matter the relationship they were in, but it still took 3 years for me to see myself in any of these courageous ladies. When I did, then I had to start healing myself, reclaim my power and only then would my skin fit as it was intended.
This whole process took 37 years. It again took a catalyst to really boot me further down the road. I could no longer work and ended up moving back to my home province. That was the first time I heard the distain in my husbands voice; never once had I actually heard a loving tone in his voice. I was truly shocked! Yet my daughters related he has always spoke to me that way or interrupt me in the midst of a sentence to change a subject.
I screwed up the courage and walked out! I had to live on Welfare (humbling is such a poor adjective for this experience) but this also was a blessing. The first thing they did was send me to a self esteem workshop. Eight weeks of such hellish pain, followed by hugging myself so tightly and crying at the thought of how much I loved me!! I am beautiful and I am lovable- this was just too incredible.
At age 56 I went and got my grade 12, not because I needed it to work but because I needed to prove I was not stupid. I still have one goal to accomplish; I want to submitt some of my poems for publishing. This too I will accomplish.
So is it ever too late to start over? Not on your sweet bippy! It does not matter if you are 18 or 88 if you have a dream you must work towards that dream because to live your life with regrets and wishes unfulfilled means you have wasted the most precious commodity on earth- YOU !!
Margie
I had left school after grade 10, partly because I was being rebellious but mostly because I felt defeated and stupid. I did not return because as it turned out, the income (small as it was at the time) was needed by my mom to keep food on the table. My dad had become seriouly ill and could no longer work.
At the time of my dad's death I had already met my "true" love, was pregnant and so finishing my education he thought quite laughable (but then he was the type to reinforce in me the fact that, "Yes, Margaret you are indeed stupid.") and so I stayed home and waited on him hand and foot while raising our two girls.
Now I mention the above not for sympathy, but to show that when one has low self esteem they allow the bad things to happen to them by others. When we learn and really understand this life concept then we can learn how, and begin to take the steps to reclaim our power.
In my case it was a very long slow process. I first lived through 20 plus years of mental and verbal abuse. I then took another few years to deal with abuse from my childhood which actually turned out to be the catalyst that was to propel me down that arduous road to finding out if I indeed exisited, and if I did who was I and could I actually be loved by anyone including myself?
This is where my very good friends were put into my life. They saw the good in me at all times and kept ponting it out to me by encouraging me to share myself with others; let them read things that I wrote, participate in public speaking when it came to issues that I have a true passion for (equality, zero violence, poverty etc); and finally they "encouraged" me to get involved as a union activist by the use of what they called "loving and kind abuse" LOL(they packed the meeting, nominated me for chairperson, and glared in unison daring me to turn down the nomination)
I was very quickly accpted and encouraged by our provincial office to become involved in the head women's committee and equity committee. After attending workshops and schools I began doing peer counselling with the abused and battered women no matter the relationship they were in, but it still took 3 years for me to see myself in any of these courageous ladies. When I did, then I had to start healing myself, reclaim my power and only then would my skin fit as it was intended.
This whole process took 37 years. It again took a catalyst to really boot me further down the road. I could no longer work and ended up moving back to my home province. That was the first time I heard the distain in my husbands voice; never once had I actually heard a loving tone in his voice. I was truly shocked! Yet my daughters related he has always spoke to me that way or interrupt me in the midst of a sentence to change a subject.
I screwed up the courage and walked out! I had to live on Welfare (humbling is such a poor adjective for this experience) but this also was a blessing. The first thing they did was send me to a self esteem workshop. Eight weeks of such hellish pain, followed by hugging myself so tightly and crying at the thought of how much I loved me!! I am beautiful and I am lovable- this was just too incredible.
At age 56 I went and got my grade 12, not because I needed it to work but because I needed to prove I was not stupid. I still have one goal to accomplish; I want to submitt some of my poems for publishing. This too I will accomplish.
So is it ever too late to start over? Not on your sweet bippy! It does not matter if you are 18 or 88 if you have a dream you must work towards that dream because to live your life with regrets and wishes unfulfilled means you have wasted the most precious commodity on earth- YOU !!
Margie
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