The fairytale ending 

The child in me has been waiting for an adult to come and save me. 

She has been waiting to be rescued for approximately 29 years. She wants someone to come and take the pain away. Someone to fix everything bad that has happened – or possibly magic it away forever. 

Matilda (film/book) got her happy ending with Miss Honey and I wanted mine. 

I would hope that adults, mainly teachers, would see that I was a good girl and would adopt me. Friend’s parents would joke that I was their adopted daughter – it was a joke to them about how regularly I spent time at their houses, but to me  it was the potential beginning of a fairytale ending. 

Enter T

So I find T one day many years later. At this stage I am an adult in age and in physicality but emotionally a child. Emotionally stunted at about 6 years old. Still craving love, affection, understanding, acceptance and warmth. Still so desperate for that bond. That unconditional love. 

I guess I picked a female T for this reason. It wouldn’t have been so easy to find my new mum in a man would it? 

I guess I felt similarities between T and my mum in that I saw them both as powerful, authorities and strong. I guess therefore potentially dangerous. 

I liked and respected T for the first two years, but now it is more than that in ways I am not sure I have the words to explain. 

T has showed me things that I had never seen. Patience, understanding and non-judgment but I think the thing that sticks out most for me is attunement. I don’t even think I knew what that word meant a while ago. 

I’ve written a lot about all of the ways T is amazing and how I love her – or what she gives me or represents. What I still childlishly fantasise her being one day – Miss Honey. 

But.. on the less lovely side of things. T’s attunement to me, her patience and everything else have suddenly become a beacon of light on the loss. The loss of my childhood, my innocence and my birth right to have been loved by my mother. 

All of a sudden I am feeling the stark contrast of what T offers me and what I have/had and it hurts. Like it hurts my entire being, my soul. Everything. 

As I write this I have this strange energy coursing through my body, like adrenaline. Maybe anger. It’s mixed with sadness and prickly tears. 

Everything that in(very cleverly) defended myself from knowing, seeing and feeling suddenly staring me in the face with a (not so) welcome home banner. 

The adult part of me knows this is necessary for my healing. That this “is the work” as T would say. I guess that is what enables me to stick it out and not run away. That and the fantasy of Miss Honey of course 🙂 but child me is in pain and shock. 

Adult me knows that I am an adult now and that I cannot now get all that I missed and long for. That it is too late. Adult me knows therapy will help me to accept this and move on. Adult me knows T isn’t going to become mum and make it all vanish – that she won’t wave her magic wand and I will be 6 again but her daughter and non of it would have happened. Adult me gets that in therapy T will help give me some of the things that I didn’t get that will help. Things like a kinder internalised voice, she had already done that to an extent and she is helping me not to feel so ashamed for having needs, to feel loveable. 

But child me… she hasn’t quite given up the hope of being rescued yet. 
I know the happy ending will still be far nicer than the story was but I have a way to go to be okay with this. Today I feel robbed and angry. Like I have a hole in my heart that is exposed to the elements. 

That poor little girl so desperate to be loved by a mummy that she didn’t get. It makes me sick. 

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23 thoughts on “The fairytale ending 

  1. I totally feel this with you. My inner child is crying out to be rescued at the moment. I am also looking at it as ‘the work’.
    I, at least, have some form of relationship with my mum despite it’s dysfunction. You probably feel like your heart is being ripped out way more intense than I do. Having to go through it sucks. I want to acknowledge it and bypass it but I don’t think it works like that!
    Sending love and inner strength xx

    Liked by 2 people

    1. I don’t think any of us get it better or worse than anyone else. We all have our own attachment injuries or trauma or abuse or whatever we are trying to heal from and i think it is all as complicated and complex as hell! Sending you love and understanding and strength too though thank you xx

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  2. it makes me sick too that you were starved of love did not get it you deserved to your mom was wrong! wrong on so many levels! like behindapaintedsmile I think I feel it too more with my dad, but my relationship with my mom is not what I want either, my whole family is just a dysfunctional mess what can I say. xx

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  3. I love that movie!
    I understand the pain of that little child inside of you. I have often felt it myself. However, unfortunately for me things didn’t work out and after two years my therapist and I parted way. This has made the child inside me feel double abandoned. In this sense, if possible, even if it’s not your mom, please know that having a therapist like yours it’s not easy to come by, so at least in part you are given a way to heal now that you are an adult.

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    1. Oh that’s awful, I won’t ask any personal questions but could you get another therapist and try and complete the journey? I feel for you because honestly I would cry if something went wrong between me and T – I often worry about that happening and pray it doesn’t.

      I do totally understand and appreciate that my T is wonderful and that I am indeed very lucky to have found her and I don’t for a second take that for granted – even is it sounded it a little x

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  4. You have every right to feel angry and robbed of something that every child deserved. It’s a very bitter pill to swallow isn’t it? And you know, that child doesn’t need to give up that hope. The adult will do the repair work which in turn will heal her little heart eventually because even though she won’t get her wish in the exact way she hoped for it, she will get and already has a mother figure in T and while it isn’t perfect, it will become enough. Sending hugs xx

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  5. This describes what I’m feeling too, I’m just feeling it in a different stage. I really appreciate you sharing this because I know now how up and down this journey will be. I’m learning the grieving process needs to happen, again and again, and I think the disappointment and anger part too. Our emotions ebb and flow. Healing ebbs and flows. I’m so sad with you. You deserved what you were denied. It doesn’t erase or replace your hole, but sometimes, when I do something for someone that was opposite of what I received, or an element I missed out on in my past, I feel the rough edges of that raw, rubbed hurt smooth out a little. It’s adult me trying to make a wrong right for little me. The act of providing what I was denied provides a small portion of healing. I’m thankful you have T. I’m so sorry you are hurting and grieving. Being in the elements is uncomfortable and hard. Keep walking towards the warmth of healing.

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    1. Hey, I know.. yeah the healing ebbs and flows and the pain does too. Thank God for that though as I don’t think I could handle it constantly like this – it would be far too painful. I am always glad of the rest in-between.

      I know what you mean about smoothing out the rough edges. T has said this to me before when I do nice things for my stepchildren but other times it makes me sad that I can do it for them despite not having had it myself hahahah dunno if that makes sense. T thinks that when I do these nice things it is the child in me doing what she would have liked to have had done to her.

      Thank you – your last sentence was beautiful, just like all of your writing and descriptions. I am here for you in your journey and walking with you xx

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