Discovering family...

Growing up in a true dysfunctional family can wreak havoc on your understanding of how a family system was designed to work.  My father's alcoholism was at the top of the list for methods of destroying my family.  All the attention and energy went into making sure that his needs were met.  I learned at a young age what I could do and say to keep him from blowing up in a fit of rage and how to escape his grasp and hide when he lost control.  Often my brother, sister and I sat huddled up in my sister's bathroom together, just hoping he did not make his way through her locked doors to our hiding place.  Other times I was able to hide underneath the dining room table in just the right place where I could see him but he couldn't see me.  When my mother would finally get some sense talked into her, she would pack up us kids and move us out.  Sometimes we moved out, and sometimes my father moved out.  I remember once when we moved into a little rent house and I had to share a room with my big sister.  While she hated every minute of it, I was the safest I had ever been.  Unfortunately, the moves were of little respite and were always short lived.  We always made our way back together, just the five of us living in our secret world of total dysfunction.  Amidst the secrecy and abuse, I had no way of knowing that my family of origin was not at all what God intended it to be.

Until I exposed the secret sin of sexual abuse that was allowed to exist within my family, I never knew how dysfunctional my family was.  It was made quite obvious very early in my healing journey that my family was not going to be a source of support for me.  When I changed the steps of the dance we were all accustomed to, they resisted.  They wanted me to keep this a secret and just get over it.  My mother's motto was and remains "just forgive and forget."  Along with the courage to finally tell my family the truth came the immense guilt that now I had destroyed them.  I once again believed a lie...that it was my fault that my family was falling apart.  What had I done?  Why were they not helping me?  I felt so betrayed, but really had I betrayed them?

It wasn't until I sought out the help and support that I so desperately needed that I learned that this a typical response from families involved in sexual abuse.  My family, like many other dysfunctional families, was not capable of handling the truth that for so long we tried to keep hidden.  They lacked the tools necessary to handle the devastation the abuse had caused.  They were unwilling to acknowledge the large elephant in the room.  Instead they chose to ignore it's ever present existence.  As one of my sweet friends always says, they chose to duck beneath the big elephant in the room and dodge it at every turn, just to avoid having to face the truth.  The truth was too painful...too uncomfortable...too scary.

Though the response from my family has only made my recovery all the more difficult, it did not make it impossible.  I am choosing to heal and to do whatever is necessary for me to get better, regardless of the choices my family makes.  I still love them and pray that they, too, will get help for themselves, but the first step is acknowledging the truth.  Speaking the truth is never dishonoring.  God is the author of truth, even when it is ugly or offensive.  The healing process begins with truth, no matter how devastating the consequences.  For me this was a heavy price to pay.  I have had to acknowledge the fantasy bond I had with my mother and realize that her love for me comes with conditions.  I have made the decision to cut off ties with my father at this time.  I know that exposing myself to his deep rooted sickness is not healthy for me, nor do I have any desire to have a relationship with a man who will take no responsibility for his actions.  I very rarely see or talk to my brother and his family anymore, as he has chosen to separate himself from the whole family in an attempt to avoid the pain.  I talk with my sister the most, though our relationship is strained at best.  I love her precious children like they are my own.  When I look into my niece's big, blue eyes I know without a shadow of a doubt that the consequences I am suffering are worth it.  I could not live with myself if she had to suffer the same fate as I did at the hands of my father...all because I was too afraid to face the truth.

The most beautiful part of this story is that God has blessed me with relationships that display His love and his purposes for what a family was designed to be.  He has given me a family that I cannot imagine living without.  We are not related by blood, but the ties go much deeper.  Just a few nights ago my dear friend who has become like a mother to me was praying and in her prayer she said these words to God about me..."help her to know that she is never unwanted here."  These simple words spoke volumes to my heart and I could not hold back the tears as I pondered the fact that I was never unwanted.  Her love for me is unconditional.  Now that is a true family...my family.  I pray that each of us would see that even beyond our earthly families we have a heavenly father whose love for us is unmatched and unfailing.  He is a father who rejoices in the truth and will never fail us.  He is our perfect family.